Beautiful Day In The NeighborHood

Leave my apartment, take the elevator, exit my building, and go on a random stroll in the Bronx. Those sequences of events, especially the random stroll, did not resonate with me well. I prefer knowing where I am headed, but imitating a digital flaneur requires ease and openness, not responsibility and rigidity. Take a deep breath, look up at the sky, and walk. Walk and Explore.

Strolling near the train station, I spot a path which I have always wanted to walk on in order to find out where it led one to.  Yet, at those times fear and skepticism overwhelmed me. Not this time. Curiosity and intent won this round. I pace myself down the steps.

At the end of the path stood a giant tunnel, a cave almost, with the year “1910” etched above it.

Before entering the tunnel, I notice steps leading to a locked gate. Walking up the steps, I observe the inside through the bars, discerning the several stalls and broken Snapple bottles and soda cans. My discernment led me to believe that this place might have been a public bathroom, similar to a porta-potty. Yet, the locked gate suggested that it might be more than that. Oh well, time to check out the tunnel/cave.

With a big gulp, I tippy-toed into the tunnel and was immediately surrounded by numerous amount of graffiti on the walls. Artwork consisting of vibrant profanity and peculiar images conveyed the idea of an Egyptian Cave.  Out of all of those images, two intrigued the most.

The face of a ghost created using a purple substance with the words “HAHA” sprayed on the mouth of the caricature. In fact, it may not even be a ghost. It could be a ghost, an ogre (Shrek?), a mockery of someone’s face.  Deciphering that piece was difficult among the other puzzling and indecipherable pieces of the cavern. Was it hieroglyphics? No, can’t call it that. More like Bronx slag only the thugs can translate with ease. 

The other image proved much more decipherable or at least to me it did. Four gargantuan baby blue bubble letters crushed together. “GIRL”.  It seemed to be done in a way that suggested patience, imagination, and pure talent in doing graffiti. Seeing that mesmerized me, I look at that for a minute or two, unlike the seconds I spent on the other ones, apart from the ghost-like face. Nonetheless, I walked to the end of the tunnel, and to my disappointment the other side of the tunnel led me to another side of my apartment building. Damn. Need to walk even more aimlessly.  

Strolling on East 208^th, a tall stocky building caught my attention. “Young Israel of Mosholu Parkway”. Nothing spectacular or jaw-dropping about it apart from two closed giant orange doors that conveyed the idea of seclusion. The idea that perhaps this place is meant for certain people, people that can comprehend and grasp the meaning and history of it. Yet, I realized after passing it that perhaps all places in the Bronx hold history and possess some known or unknown significance to the community. Every sidewalk consisting of gravel, dog shit, and piled garbage on the sides had a building that is integral to the Bronx, especially in Mosholu Parkway.

Lastly, my mindless but committed walking led to a park. Oval Park. I saw some young men playing an intense game. The weather seemed comfortable, so seeing that was not too odd, yet there were several patches of snow on the field. That did not seem to stop those guys from belligerent tackling each other onto the ground.

  I continued wandering until my stomach growled profusely, halting me from exploring and causing me to head back home, as I had no money to go and explore some shops. Yet, walking aimlessly, but cleverly in the Bronx is excellent. It was fun. Maybe I should do this again. Late at night. Wait, no, better yet, in the morning.