{Chinatown} Ugh.

I finally realized how disgusting Chinatown is.

The moment I walked out of the D train I smelled a strong fishy odor that I was so familiar with when I lived in China or went to Chinese markets. Why? Well, because Grand street was filled with markets for seafood. And if you thought the aisles of the seafood market were gross, then you would see that the street in Chinatown was hundred times dirtier than the aisles. But they smelled just the same. Even the sunshine, which usually evokes positive feelings, was painfully bright and blinding. Then it was the roads: slushy, grayish, dirty, filled with puddles that could fake the road. The roads in Fort Lee are all dried up with snow piled on the side, but the roads in Chinatown (and apparently its surroundings such as SoHo) were still covered with a layer of snow that was half-melted.

This place is so disgusting I don't know how people can stand living here.

After work I walked down to Pell St. to pick up my contact lenses. There were some issues with the insurance that was beyond me so I called up my mother for more info and so that she could talk to the lady. The sales lady did not want to take over the phone at first and when she finally did she sighed and got a piece of tissue to wipe the screen of my cellphone. And then when she was talking to my mom, she flipped her eyes and gave a dirty look blatantly in front of me as if she didn't even consider hiding her impatience and disdain in front of the daughter of the person she was talking to. Her attitude was absolutely horrible and she spoke in such a rude manner that one would never see in a Korean or Japanese optical store--or any store. I'm not even going to try to imagine what she commented after I left the store.


The intersection between Mott St. and Pell St.--the narrowness and the sharp turn and the somewhat claustrophobic feel--kept bringing me back to an image I had long, long time. A movie? Or maybe, a dream? I remembered seeing that corner as the site of Chinatown gang violence. When I was standing at the corner, I kept having the feeling that a bunch of gang members were about to suddenly appear, running from the corner. It was 7 P.M., there was barely anyone around that area. It was pretty creepy. All kinds of hair salons were still up and busy. But the streets were quiet and dimly lighted. Together with the weird layout of that small area, I felt more like I was on an abandoned movie set--of the 1970s or so--than in the center of Chinatown. At that point, I think I was feeling the story of Chinatown. This is kind of hard to describe: feeling the story. But I felt like I could sense the struggles, successes, ups, and downs behind those shady doors of small businesses. I'm pretty certain I was feeling the magic of Chinatown.