by ja132921
Dear ReaderEssay#3 I made it ENG3680
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G7HObAEr-jM
Dear Reader,
My first proposal for this essay had failed. After countless attempts and insistence to my subject Nancy, she said NO for my initial idea. After that simple word “No”, I panicked because I thought it was the end of my project. I relaxed and I recalled my professor advice to put myself in the place, so, I did and I discovered an indescribable feelings and I started writing about what I feel on that moment. Then I come up with a new idea where I could use my initial photographs, my creativity and all my thoughts.
I spent more than four weeks doing it. I went to Roosevelt Ave and Warren St, almost the entire four weeks. The entire Ecuadorian street vendors now knows me. They greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and they asked me how my project was.
My purpose with this hybrid essay is to pursue you to come, eat and chat with my community that is located under the 7-train line.
I think this final project has helping me to discovered that I’m kind of creative. Also because of this project I re-discovered my identity and I have more Ecuadorian friends.
This final project was the most difficult one and a lot of time consuming, however, I enjoyed doing it.
Thank Professor Smith for this helpful class.
I hope you guys enjoy my project!
Best,
Jessica Ajoy
A Little Ecuador in a Big City
I made it. I’m in the North. I left my country, Ecuador, a decade ago. At first, I was a plant with roots that I tried planting in New York. I was trying to be someone that I wasn’t. I was trying to lose my identity to feel like a bigger part of the United States. Those efforts were in vain. My identity was like a shadow that followed me every step that I made. The more I tried walking away, the closer it got. So, I gave up. I reconciled my origins, my stories and myself. This harmony led me to my inner rebirth and I realized that I am a Latino immigrant in America. This taught me to understand, embrace and appreciate my race and cultural values.
Since then, my pride in my Ecuadorian roots strengthened and grew on an ongoing basis. Now, I’m championing my roots, my language and my values. Far from my native city, I found a place here in New York where I can feel like I am in Ecuador again. This place that contains my culture is located in Queens.
I have to take the 7 train to get to my “Little Ecuador”. I get off at the Junction Boulevard stop. Under the 7 train, a block from the station is Roosevelt Avenue and Warren Street, one of the busiest sections of Queens. It is best known among the Ecuadorian population here as “Guayaquil” because of similarities with my home Ecuadorian city of the same name. Here on these two blocks you can find almost everything you could buy in Ecuador, like CDs of a famous Ecuadorian singer, t-shirts of the most popular soccer teams in Ecuador and traditional food from Ecuador’s coastal and mountain regions.
Did I say food?
Food builds my identity. It is a powerful tool that reminds me of my connections and relationships with my community. This block is characterized by the presence of street vendors from Ecuador’s different regions. It is a typical gathering spot among Ecuadorians. You can see your people and speak your language. Here is my “Little Ecuador” in the big city.
Here at the corner is Nancy, a small woman from Cuenca, Ecuador, that covers her head with a light blue hat, and wears an apron. She sells fritada, which is a typical dish from the mountain regions of Ecuador. She’s been in the business for more than 20 years. She prepares her dishes by putting a handful of corn, pork and mote on a foil container, along with a measure of seasoned onion sauce, a side of blood sausage and a torta de papa (aka llapingacho), before carefully handing it over to eager customers.
Nancy is surrounded on all sides by other vendors who, through cuisine, are bringing Ecuadorian customers a piece of home.
Next to Nancy’s truck is Lourdes, another street vendor from Cuenca. She’s been in the business for five years and sells the same fritada as Nancy. She says that it is not a competition and that God “gives bread to everyone”.
A few steps from Lourdes’ truck is Ivan, another food vendor. Ivan is from Guayaquil, the city where I grew up. His lunch on this day was fish encebollado. The smell wafts to my nose and automatically brings me back to my childhood.
“Dame uno y con yapa!” I said.
He prepares my plate as I requested with yapa. In English, yapa means “extra” or more accurately “Pile it on!” I observe him filling the plastic container with the fish stew and my mouth waters. I feel at home in the big city.
Next to Ivan is Jose, also from Guayaquil. He describes his menu boisterously and surveys the scene surrounding his food cart. Speaking in loud Spanish he says, “Here I see my people enjoying their meals. These flavors remind them of home. People come here from out-of-state just to feel like they are at home.”
I’m at home here. The traditions I grew up with are in my heart. I am what I am and I’m proud of it. I speak English with a foreign accent, Spanish with an Ecuadorian accent and I have an Ecuadorian last name.
Whether you are an immigrant or not and no matter where you are, sharing your roots enriches your life and that of others. If you ever want to come to my country, hop on the 7 train to Junction Boulevard, and visit my “Little Ecuador”.