On E. 17th, right off of Church Ave, it’s trash day. What does the smell of someone’s trash tell you about them? How long it’s been sitting in the sun. How much the refuse is organic enough to rot. If any empty beer cans decided to further ferment. The trash along the way was largely underwhelming. I didn’t plug my nose, or speed walk past. It smelled like the plastic bag it was encased in, and maybe some kitchen scraps. Cherry blossom trees at the beginning of the block dropped their petals and the slight fragrance competed with the garbage. I wasn’t about to learn that much about the residents from smell alone, unless I wanted to also pick through the contents.
The residents walked up and down the street, or in the case of a block back, a ten year old boy, rode his bike up and down the sidewalk. Young families walked together, pushing strollers, speaking Spanish.
At Marlborough and Church, there is the Temple Beth Emeth. Here the area is transitioning over to more of a residential feel, nearly suburban. The traffic subsides and a calmer quiet takes over. The stately temple feels like a transition. It’s odd contrast to the boarded up DNA testing.
Outside of the Temple, a older Black woman, dressed as though she was heading to church, hands me this pamphlet. Her accent sounds like is derived from a Caribbean French, possibly like she is Haitian. Despite this, the pamphlet is in Spanish. I wonder which population she is hoping to target, handing out spanish-language pamphlets about Jesus in front of a Jewish Temple.
A little further down, outside a house on Rugby, there is a mailbox looking structure calling itself a “LittleFreeLibrary,” with each of the books inside having yellowed pages and spines that make a cracking sound when you open it. They smell like aged paper, like the reference section of the library. I looked through but nothing caught my eye.
You are now fully surrounded by large houses, green lawns, and the noise of birds chirping. A large section along Church Ave is mostly single-family residential houses (as seen in blue above). Certain parts of this area is also called Prospect Park South, due to it’s proximity to Prospect Park, but it still a falls within Flatbush’s boundaries.
The vast majority of the houses have large gardens of fragrant flowers that look well taken care of. The grass is green and the neighborhood smells like someone just cut their lawn. There are also more cherry blossom trees, which add a sweet fragrance.
It is jarring to all of a sudden be on a tree lined street. There is a light breeze that doesn’t even raise goosebumps. So many of these large houses have spacious front porches. They are well maintained, the paint on them smooth, the brick and stone uniform and not weathered. The grass is plush, with no places where it is sparse. The sidewalk is uncracked. The street is recently paved.
Throughout the neighborhood, the people walking along or lounging on their property are the most diverse collection I have seen in all of Flatbush. In the busier section of Church, even in those residential apartments where it was trash day, it was predominantly people of color, mostly black or latino, and of no either no clear religious affiliation, or Christian. Over here, all races are represented, including more middle eastern, asian, or white passersby in addition to the others. There were Muslims in full religious garbs, and Jewish boys wearing yamakas in addition to the others. And each group seemed to have claim to the area as much of the next, sleeping on lounge chairs and strolling freely.
Two small girls grab flowers off a tree and call to their mothers and probable aunt in Spanish.
A little off of Church, on Albemarle, between Rugby and Argyle, the Albanian American Islamic center melds into the line of the rest of the houses, with a set of children’s purple flip flops discarded on the lawn outside.
The only house that doesn’t fit, as I come to realize how incredibly uniform this neighborhood was able to be even with diverse architecture, is this house that is badly in need of a paint job. The white paint chipping away would have to be sanded down, along all those details and crevices, first before the place could be painted. Outside, a fluff of a cat lounges on the porch, right in front of a faded sign that says, “Beware of dog.”
Whether it’s the perfect upkeep of the house, or the abundant foliage, something screams affluent about this area. There are dog walkers aplenty. Some young 20-somethings jog along. You would not find these things in the poorer neighborhood. These are 2 million dollar homes.
I wonder, do people pay for quiet? For hearing the birds chirping? For crickets being the loudest sound at night. Is this sensory reduction available to everyone, but only as long as they have the paycheck to support living here?
A public safety patrol car makes it’s way slowly down the street.
On Westminster Rd, going back from Albemarle to Church, this is the most poignant picture of the difference between neighborhoods, not even blocks apart. Immediately I hear a faint siren in the distance. The buildings transition from the large bright houses to the sandstone apartment building with a deli built in the corner. It is clear that there are very different lives being led not even five minutes apart.
Further down Church, right before E. 10th street, is Am Thai. It’s a mid priced Thai food restaurant which long ago become my favorite. I recommend the Pad Thai with Chicken, or the Panang Curry with extra rice. Recently, they were offering a special watermelon drink, made out of a hollowed watermelon. I will tell you right now that it is only cheap vodka and watermelon and not worth it. It’s also $12. I couldn’t bring myself to continue drinking it, if only for the buzz. The Thai Iced Tea is to die for though. It’s a small restaurant, on the more intimate side, but well decorated and my go to spot for Thai food.
