As I leave the office where I work on May first close to the crossing of Broadway and Houston, on the west side of Broadway, I cross the street toward my subway stop at Lafayette. As the door pulls slowly to close behind me, I encounter a scattered and slow stream of people, mostly Hispanics – I actually don’t specifically remember seeing any one of another ethnic signature – marches in the direction of City Hall. As I obliquely cross over I form part of this mass demonstration, swelling its ranks to a factor x plus one.

“U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!”

The success of America’s immigration policy is that many if not most immigrants feel an intimate devotion to the country, even if they remain in their heart nationals of their country of birth. How often did I not listen, admittedly with a certain aloofness and appal, to the immigrant, be it Chinese, Georgian, Russian, Indian, Algerian, Muslim, Jew, Christian or Atheist, expressing their gratitude for the chances and opportunity to build a free and better life here in America. How sharp is the contrast of the Dutch Moroccan who feels only bitterness toward his life in the Netherlands (without expressing any desire to emigrate permanently!).

I turn the corner at the Adidas store, pass the fruit cart on which the Bangladeshi seller continuously rearranges his fruits from early day till evening, and already smell the rancid odour of the three African homeless men who build their shelter between the railing and bushes. I descend hurrying homeward. Continue reading →

My first weeks in the academic quarter of Manhattan, Morningside Heights, just under Harlem, are an enlightment compared to last year in Brooklyn Heights. Surely, the vibrant energy of Harlem street life breathing down upon it, attributes for a great deal of its more lively heartbeat. But the esthetics of the Columbia campus area contribute their own value and atmosphere, especially here in the border region at 122nd Street. The subway number one sees the day of light, racing with the loudest rattling of old and rusty, cast iron rails and construction, and while Broadway runs down, the rattling shoots straight up to the station at 125th, about 20 meters high.

At Amsterdam Avenue begin the projects, brown stone apartment highrises, mostly occupied by African-Americans, while the Hispanics live further up in Manhattanville, Hamilton Heights and Washington Heights. Continue reading →