sound washes over you, the steady
thrum of human activity, people
talking in a dozen different
languages, chatting, haggling,
arguing. There’s music playing
constantly. You’ve got traditional
South African music coming from
one corner, someone blasting Dolly
Parton from the next corner, and
somebody driving past pumping the
Notorious B.I.G.
The hood was a complete
sensory overload for me, but within
the chaos there was order, a system,
a social hierarchy based on where
you lived. First Avenue was not cool
at all because it was right next to