Life in a gentrifying 'hood has its ups and downs, most of which I love. Since I moved to DC over three years ago many new restaurants and shops have opened. Some have been convenient; for example the new Target and an additional grocery store. Some have filled a void, like the two new coffee shops with free wi-fi. Others have increased our options for entertaining and general merriment, like the specialty beer and wine store, the English pub, and the theater. Others have just been silly, like the opening of a posh "micro-eatery" serving small plates across from a funeral home and a house prone to drug-dealing. At the community meeting where the micro-eatery owners introduced the concept to us, I joked to my friend that we should open a your-mama's-kitchen "macro-eatery" across the street serving all you can eat portions.
The changes in my 'hood have included an expansion of culinary options. Since I live in the area of DC with the highest Latino population, taquerias, burrito places, empanada joints, and Mexican restaurants abound. I am proud to say our culinary tastes have now expanded to include not one, not two, not three, but FOUR pizza places, three of which serve pizza by the slice. We have burger joints. We have all-American restaurants, Thai, Vietnamese, and a wine bar. Most of these are small businesses locally owned and operated. We now have a few chains, though, namely Panda Express and Pot Belly. It is altogether a good mix.
Until Chipotle announced it is moving in. Chipotle?! That is like opening a Panda Express in the heart of San Francisco's Chinatown. Or a Fazoli's in New York's Little Italy. I mean, really. Did it have to come to this?
And now, Burrito Express right around the corner from me is closing. Have I ever been there? No. Do I even like burritos? Not really. But I still can't help thinking the two are linked, that with Chipotle comes the death of the small businesses and locally-owned restaurants, the increase in rent, the continued migration of minorities elsewhere, and... well. I will go eat a burrito from Burrito Express now as a small act of defiance toward Chipotle. Before they close their doors for good.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The DC Bubble
I've just left my “DC bubble” for the first time in six weeks. DC is urban, multicultural, and very liberal, representing its own microcosm of American culture – hence the “DC bubble.” Within the ten by ten square miles that make up our nation’s capital you can assume several things including: people are liberal, fairly well educated, probably do not have kids and/or have prioritized their career over their kids, and your city government is going to be dysfunctional.* An avid traveler for work and pleasure, I seem to have an excuse to leave the “DC bubble” about once a month. These moments outside DC are a good reminder of the America beyond the beltway.
Today, my travels were taking me to Tucson. I had a layover in Dallas and as I exited the plane amid a sea of cowboy hats and boots I recognized I was outside the “DC bubble.” Looking for lunch, I walked by a restaurant called "Dickey's BBQ Pit" wondering who would want to eat there before remembering my dad and sister would probably both like to eat there. Ah, Texas. And then, Tucson.
When I landed in Tucson, I was reminded again of the stark beauty of the Western landscape. I was also reminded that, outside DC, there are families with children. Kids in DC, for me, seem to be contained to the suburbs. Enjoying a nice meal at a great restaurant with a view, I was surprised to see a family with three little girls at a table nearby. Each little girl took their turn crying throughout the course of the meal. Near the end of the meal a gentleman from a nearby table approached the family.
“Oh boy,” I thought. “He is going to say something about their kids crying.” But no! To my surprise he complimented them on their lovely family. As I reflected on that moment, and the difference between my expectations and what had happened, I first realized that in the “DC bubble” my default assumption is people will behave rudely. And secondly, I realized that it’s good to step outside the “DC bubble” now and again. Here's to a week in Tucson!
*This is more specifically the “DC transplant bubble” as opposed to the “DC native bubble.”
Today, my travels were taking me to Tucson. I had a layover in Dallas and as I exited the plane amid a sea of cowboy hats and boots I recognized I was outside the “DC bubble.” Looking for lunch, I walked by a restaurant called "Dickey's BBQ Pit" wondering who would want to eat there before remembering my dad and sister would probably both like to eat there. Ah, Texas. And then, Tucson.
When I landed in Tucson, I was reminded again of the stark beauty of the Western landscape. I was also reminded that, outside DC, there are families with children. Kids in DC, for me, seem to be contained to the suburbs. Enjoying a nice meal at a great restaurant with a view, I was surprised to see a family with three little girls at a table nearby. Each little girl took their turn crying throughout the course of the meal. Near the end of the meal a gentleman from a nearby table approached the family.
“Oh boy,” I thought. “He is going to say something about their kids crying.” But no! To my surprise he complimented them on their lovely family. As I reflected on that moment, and the difference between my expectations and what had happened, I first realized that in the “DC bubble” my default assumption is people will behave rudely. And secondly, I realized that it’s good to step outside the “DC bubble” now and again. Here's to a week in Tucson!
*This is more specifically the “DC transplant bubble” as opposed to the “DC native bubble.”
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
The Nomination: It's Official
My big Peace Corps interview was this morning! At 8 am. I am not a morning person. 8 am?! I did get there on time, two minutes early to be precise. But since I was only two minutes early I had to forgo coffee.
The interview went well. Surprisingly, at the end of the interview the recruiter nominated me to be a Community Development volunteer in Francophone Africa. I had assumed I would sit through a few more weeks or even a month or two of bureaucracy before the nomination. So, I was excited to be nominated, especially to the program and region I want to go to.
Then the recruiter gave me a choice within the Community Development program. I could either volunteer to work with municipal governments or with businesses. "I have to pick one, right now? I can't choose both?" I asked. No, I could not. I had to choose one. On the spot, right then and there, with nary a sentence description about either program.
Policy wonk Jay Girl said "Governments! Do it." Future Jay Girl, who earns an MBA, said "Businesses! This is a great learning opportunity!" Political science major Jay Girl, who aspires to work for the United Nations or the State Department, changing the world through sound policy fought back, pointing out this would be a great opportunity to work with international governments. Economics minor Jay Girl who believes in the free market and changes the world through creative capitalism and economic development made a second counter argument.
The recruiter seemed to sense this inner monologue was going on, so she recommended we go take care of my fingerprints. I tried asking her what program she felt I was better qualified for. She dodged the question in part, but first threw out that "You seem rather structured. Maybe the government option?" "Structured?!" I thought, offended. I was wearing a suit but this was a job interview, after all. And I wore a bright shirt under my suit with a pretty, beaded African necklace to hint at the unstructured side of my personality. But I could not be distracted by that; I had this decision to make. Right now.
In the end, I went with working with municipal governments. The bona fide city girl in me reasoned that if I was working with a government, whether it be city, provincial or national, the work would probably occur in a more urban environment. I really would like to be in a city but I am trying to maintain flexibility per the Peace Corps guidelines. So, that is what we went with though there is a 40% chance it will all change.
And when I arrived home that night to my tidy apartment I thought "Maybe I am structured."
The interview went well. Surprisingly, at the end of the interview the recruiter nominated me to be a Community Development volunteer in Francophone Africa. I had assumed I would sit through a few more weeks or even a month or two of bureaucracy before the nomination. So, I was excited to be nominated, especially to the program and region I want to go to.
Then the recruiter gave me a choice within the Community Development program. I could either volunteer to work with municipal governments or with businesses. "I have to pick one, right now? I can't choose both?" I asked. No, I could not. I had to choose one. On the spot, right then and there, with nary a sentence description about either program.
Policy wonk Jay Girl said "Governments! Do it." Future Jay Girl, who earns an MBA, said "Businesses! This is a great learning opportunity!" Political science major Jay Girl, who aspires to work for the United Nations or the State Department, changing the world through sound policy fought back, pointing out this would be a great opportunity to work with international governments. Economics minor Jay Girl who believes in the free market and changes the world through creative capitalism and economic development made a second counter argument.
The recruiter seemed to sense this inner monologue was going on, so she recommended we go take care of my fingerprints. I tried asking her what program she felt I was better qualified for. She dodged the question in part, but first threw out that "You seem rather structured. Maybe the government option?" "Structured?!" I thought, offended. I was wearing a suit but this was a job interview, after all. And I wore a bright shirt under my suit with a pretty, beaded African necklace to hint at the unstructured side of my personality. But I could not be distracted by that; I had this decision to make. Right now.
In the end, I went with working with municipal governments. The bona fide city girl in me reasoned that if I was working with a government, whether it be city, provincial or national, the work would probably occur in a more urban environment. I really would like to be in a city but I am trying to maintain flexibility per the Peace Corps guidelines. So, that is what we went with though there is a 40% chance it will all change.
And when I arrived home that night to my tidy apartment I thought "Maybe I am structured."
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Rainy Autumn Days
I had the coziest most perfect autumn Saturday last week. My friend and I wandered to U Street for dinner at a wine bar. We talked and enjoyed each other's company over wine, cheese and small plates. Sitting at the window at the wine bar we watched the world go by amidst the autumn drizzle. There is something I just love about rainy fall days, wet leaves on the pavement, wearing my perfect fall trench coat and enjoying a glass of wine with a friend.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
It's a Wonderful World
Juxtaposed with my perfect rainy, autumn evening was a recent perfect Saturday morning. If I had been back in my hometown it would have been perfect, PERFECT weater for a football game. Alas, I was in DC so I went to the farmer's market where the vegetables were glorious and spendid. The market was filled with cute families, snuggly babies, and friendly dogs. And to complete the "It's a Wonderful World" feeling of the morning, when I walked by my local Baptist church there was a pretty wedding going on.
Bona Fide City Girl
Every once in a while living in the city you get the question "Why do you live in DC?" After all, there are plenty of bright, shining suburban communities surrounding DC. They would be more convenient to live in and cheaper, the argument is. You could drive to the grocery store. You could have a yard, a dog, laundry in your apartment, more space, a latte at Starbucks... The question is generally delivered in a tone of voice that implies the asker of the question thinks you are a little crazy. It's as if they are asking you "Why did you visit Canada for vacation in the middle of winter?"
Well, askers of this question, those who live in the suburban forests surrounding the city, here is my reply:
I live in the city, D.C. proper, because our nation's capital is one of the greatest cities on the Eastern Seaboard. I live in D.C. because that way, I can say I live two miles due north of the White House. I live in D.C. because if the Prez and First Lady happen to be out and about, I may run into them. I live in D.C. because I delight in seeing motorcades when I walk home from work. I live in D.C. because if I want to see the Hope Diamond at the Smithsonian, I can. I live in D.C. because if I want Chinese at 1 a.m. I can order it. I live in D.C. because the 'burbs are not! cheaper, especially when you consider time spent commuting and the difference in lifestyle. I live in D.C. because I can walk anywhere and everywhere in half an hour, whether it is to the Farmer's Market (see, the country comes to me), a bar, a coffee shop, a metro stop, a bookstore, a great restaurant, one of the dozens of great museums, theater, shopping... and the list goes on. I live in D.C. because it is a beautiful city and if I need green space, I go to a park which I do not have to maintain myself.
And on a more serious note, I live in D.C., I live in cities because I love the mix of people and cultures. Just in my tiny neighborhood I can get: Chinese, Indian, Korean, Thai, Vietnamese, Mexican, Ghanaian, Italian, English, French, Moroccan, Japanese, Belgian, El Salvadoran, Brazilian, Peruvian, Argentinean, and of course American food. My neighborhood is nearly a third, a third, a third white, Hispanic and black, with a small Asian population mixed in. My neighbors are young and old, black and white, purple and green, gay and straight, married and single. This mix of cultures and peoples just feels right to me. And that is why I live in D.C.
What's more, I have always loved living in the city. Since I moved away from my Midwestern hometown to go to college, I have lived in dense, urban areas, the only exception being the summer I spent out West. And to those who, as a follow up to asking me "Why do you live in D.C.?" tell me that when I have kids, I'll flee to the 'burbs if I don't before then, I have a few parting thoughts. While I am not going to promise I will never leave the city, any city, I will say that if I have to go someone is going to have to drag me out, kicking and screaming.
Well, askers of this question, those who live in the suburban forests surrounding the city, here is my reply:
I live in the city, D.C. proper, because our nation's capital is one of the greatest cities on the Eastern Seaboard. I live in D.C. because that way, I can say I live two miles due north of the White House. I live in D.C. because if the Prez and First Lady happen to be out and about, I may run into them. I live in D.C. because I delight in seeing motorcades when I walk home from work. I live in D.C. because if I want to see the Hope Diamond at the Smithsonian, I can. I live in D.C. because if I want Chinese at 1 a.m. I can order it. I live in D.C. because the 'burbs are not! cheaper, especially when you consider time spent commuting and the difference in lifestyle. I live in D.C. because I can walk anywhere and everywhere in half an hour, whether it is to the Farmer's Market (see, the country comes to me), a bar, a coffee shop, a metro stop, a bookstore, a great restaurant, one of the dozens of great museums, theater, shopping... and the list goes on. I live in D.C. because it is a beautiful city and if I need green space, I go to a park which I do not have to maintain myself.
And on a more serious note, I live in D.C., I live in cities because I love the mix of people and cultures. Just in my tiny neighborhood I can get: Chinese, Indian, Korean, Thai, Vietnamese, Mexican, Ghanaian, Italian, English, French, Moroccan, Japanese, Belgian, El Salvadoran, Brazilian, Peruvian, Argentinean, and of course American food. My neighborhood is nearly a third, a third, a third white, Hispanic and black, with a small Asian population mixed in. My neighbors are young and old, black and white, purple and green, gay and straight, married and single. This mix of cultures and peoples just feels right to me. And that is why I live in D.C.
What's more, I have always loved living in the city. Since I moved away from my Midwestern hometown to go to college, I have lived in dense, urban areas, the only exception being the summer I spent out West. And to those who, as a follow up to asking me "Why do you live in D.C.?" tell me that when I have kids, I'll flee to the 'burbs if I don't before then, I have a few parting thoughts. While I am not going to promise I will never leave the city, any city, I will say that if I have to go someone is going to have to drag me out, kicking and screaming.
Irony Alert
This week I have been suffering through a cold. The Peace Corps interview was looming on Friday, so I went into high alert to combat it. After all, I didn't want to show up with a runny nose coughing on the recruiter (who, incidentally, shares my name). Why didn't I just reschedule the interview? Having waited three weeks for this date, Sept. 18, I was too excited to reschedule.
Despite my natural inclinations, I took it easy. I made myself soup brimming with herbs and garlic, ate lots of Vitamin C, and got plenty of sleep. Friday morning I woke up ecstatic for the interview, despite a sniffly nose and the remnants of my cough. September 18, I kept thinking, is a big day. It is the beginning of me executing this life goal. It is a step toward my future. It is my opportunity to show the Peace Corps I am going to be a kick-a** volunteer. It is... (phone rings)
"Hello?" I say. "Hi, it's ________ from the Peace Corps. Your interview is cancelled. Your recruiter is sick."
Despite my natural inclinations, I took it easy. I made myself soup brimming with herbs and garlic, ate lots of Vitamin C, and got plenty of sleep. Friday morning I woke up ecstatic for the interview, despite a sniffly nose and the remnants of my cough. September 18, I kept thinking, is a big day. It is the beginning of me executing this life goal. It is a step toward my future. It is my opportunity to show the Peace Corps I am going to be a kick-a** volunteer. It is... (phone rings)
"Hello?" I say. "Hi, it's ________ from the Peace Corps. Your interview is cancelled. Your recruiter is sick."
