Portuñol in Bridgeport

Another day where I had to spend an inordinate time in Chicago for a couple of meetings in the afternoon. An outing was in order – an outing as it seems that “wander” has been usurped by other flâneuses. This time was more decisive, due to the curiosity that stemmed from the last outing, I was thinking Pilsen but it ended up Bridgeport thinking Irish rather than Latino.

On the el platform awaiting the orange line train a woman obviously thinking that being brown I speak Spanish asks me directions. Wonder what country she thought I was from.

It was Joãozão all the way. Now that extended cold periods are behind us – maybe – it is the best annotating camera, and dread the day that it does finally be beyond repair as it seems to meld decent negative with something that while portable places me beyond the tourist when I run into people.

What was I thinking? I was thinking that Halsted Street would be a commercially driven as 26th street was. I was thinking taverns, individual shops, neighbourhoods. What I found was a street with empty buildings, chains and mini malls.

At a field house where I stop to use the facilities a man sees Joãozão and makes a snapping gesture with his hand as he laughs. Outside there is someone practising his bocce on a rock strewn pitted pitch. Some Asians are playing basketball.

The plan was Halsted to 39th then over to Racine back up to 35th or 31st over to Morgan up to 18th then west to the pink line station at Ashland. Hyperactively taking in Bridgeport and Pilsen in one blow.

Only a few things worth looking at in Halsted Street – Miracle Pharmacy, a couple of façades - I turned away from things and went into an urban formalism hinting that the walk was going to be a bust. 39th wasn’t much better here it was the purely formal.

Gave the Stockyards and Back of the Yards a pass as that would take me further from an el platform thinking next time.

Headed back north along Racine which seemed a bit better. There were things were being left. There was a bit of individuality in the housing, what shops I found were more local.

I also found that once foreign phobic Bridgeport with its Irish cops chasing everyone out of the neighbour was now more Asian and Latino than European – well except for the McMansions that were being built along the western edge.

I was trying to find other commercial streets in the area and looking for the mini gallery district that was supposedly growing, and due to this I was now zig-zagging north and south west to east.
Heading north In Morgan, I run into a man with a mean looking dog. I begin to cross the street when he says in two tongues nice. I head back we chat, he in Spanish me in Portunhol and feel that I must make a snap of him.

No.

Ok and I walk away.

He calls me back to ask what for. State that I try to photograph everyone who talks to me as a record, don’t really know why.

He relents and then asks if I can photograph his alley as he has to go to court to get the garbage picked up. I apologise for the anachronistic photographer that I am and state that Joãozão isn’t digital he should go to CVS and buy a one time use camera for his snaps.

He mentions gangs in the neighbourhood and how it has changed in the 17 years he has lived there.

I continue north passing the one sign of gentrification of the day – a café – in 31st Street.

People drawing with chalk on the pavement preparing for a birthday, some nice lawn ornaments but for the most part the walk is a bust. The area too regulated, too regular.

The save came from two encounters. One from buddy in Archer Avenue who thinking I am lost asks what address I am looking for when I was actually looking at the signage on a building that he happens to live in. He goes on a tirade about the city – live there all his life – how Daley is becoming more and more of a loon, signage tax, 10 ¾% sales tax etc. told me the history of the adjacent blocks.

Heading down Archer toward the el, stop to make a snap of a building’s grating abutting the Stevenson Expresway. Buddy’s opposite comes out. Betting that the area will pick up now that the orange line is there, he bought the building and watched his investment pile in the dough. He felt sorry for the long time residents but hey…

He thought that I was working for google streetlevel – had to tell him that they tend to drive rather than walk. During the talk he seemed to always worry about having to talk to tenants he saw leaving.

We parted Tried to do something with the Chicago River there. An attempt to document a hot dog stand before piling onto the train.