Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Chinatown Counterfeiting



Last Thursday, the New York Police Department arrested 21 people for selling counterfeit goods in Chinatown. The counterfeit purses were crammed into 6 vans that were being used as temporary storefronts. The knockoffs cost around $25-$50 each, thousands of dollars less than their originals. This is not a rare event since everyone knows that Chinatown is the place to go if you want to get a fake LV, Burberry, Guchi, etc.

Last year Mayor Bloomberg raided counterfeit shops shutting down more than 30 stores on Canal St. between Centre and Baxter, many of these stores remain shut today. This sent a great blow to the businesses around Chinatown especially since it is still staggering from 911. Yet this did not end the counterfeiting business, much of it has just been pushed further underground. Instead of actual storefronts, there are people waiting outside of subway stations or hiding in vans. The sales people walk around whispering frantically “Bag, bags, Guchi? Rolex?” If you are interested they’ll take you to their secret hiding places. It can be anything from utility closets within the subway station, or secret walls in the back of a store that pushes open to reveal another room. If the bag that you want doesn’t sport the correct logo, no problem, the storeowner will happily swap it to any logo you choose.

Counterfeiting has always been a thorn to Chinatown; despite Bloomberg’s efforts it still very much exists especially in an economy like ours today it is almost understandable why people will resort to buying fake goods. Companies have less money to hire counterfeiting consultants to help stop the production of them and the government has more important issues to worry about. The people have no money to spend and are especially in need of comforts that buying things can bring.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

The Tribute WTC Center

Last Thursday, a warm day not too different from that of 911, I made the trip to the Tribute WTC Center to make the story of 911 my own. I was 14 years old and lived across the world in 2001, the attack made an impact but it felt far from real. Listening to the people at the Tribute Center was like watching a movie playing inside of my head. The shock and grief – genuine emotions that I felt finally made it real to me.

I have seen pictures and video captions of the building before and after 911, but listening to people describe the Twin-Towers made me realize it’s magnitude. Each floor of the buildings was one acre in size,; the WTC were described as “a city within a city.” Not only was the loss of the people unbearable, but also of this community; the Twin Towers were not just massive office buildings, there was a culture that existed within it.

Today we are used to watching people die in movies, hearing news of wars and terrorist attacks daily, in a way we have lost the capacity to feel for things. For me, to make it real, I must feel empathy for someone and their story. Lee Ielpi, a former fireman, lost his fireman son to the terrorist attack. On the day of the attack, Lee received a phone call from his son Jonathan saying, “Dad, we’re going to the World Trade Center,” - that was the last he heard from him. Jonthan Ielpi and more than 200 units of firemen went out that day, 343 of them died. Three months after 911, Jonathan’s body was found. When Lee realized his body was intact, he said he felt “lucky”. Only less than 200 full bodies out of the near 3000 that died were found. His version of “lucky” made me realize how extraordinarily lucky most of us are without even realizing it.

On September 11, 2001, al-Qaeda hijackers drove two airplanes into the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in downtown Manhattan. The terrorist attack murdered 2974 people, becoming one of the biggest attacks on American soil. Everything was pulverized when the two buildings fell. In my imagination I had thought of it as a huge mess full of bent desks, broken windows and bodies. None of these things existed, one of the biggest pieces of glass found was smaller than my palm. All that was left was parts, a ten story high pile of compacted steel, and dust.

The Tribute WTC Visitor Center is located on 120 Liberty Street, next to Ground Zero. It opens at 10am or noon and closes at 6; there is a $10 admission fee. The tribute center offers a gallery, a walking tour, and a self-guided audio tour. It was started when Lee Ielpi and Jennifer Adams realized the need of a place for people to understand 911. If you were too young or far away at the time, the tribute center is a good place to get to know about September 11. The tear inducing quotes and artifacts are a little hard to bear but necessary. Although well made, the audio tour is not as worth taking. Listening through earphones while trying to figure out when to press play made it too impersonal.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Downtown - My Manhatten


Reading Hamill’s Downtown – My Manhattan is like listening to your Irish grandfather telling you a bedside story. It is full of details, colors, experiences, sometimes you can’t get enough, other times you become restless of his nostalgia.

Hamill, a Brooklyn born New Yorker, writes his book from his point of view as the son of an immigrant who called downtown Manhattan home for the majority of his life. The characters and stories are not just from Hamill’s time, his rich knowledge of the history of the city and the people of the city makes this book more than just his memoir. Each street has a character, a group of people, a story behind it. To Hamill, the Bowling Green is not just a tiny park in downtown Manhatten, it is the oldest park, it is the remains of the Dutch town, it is the home of Willem Verhulst, the first governor. Although his abundance of knowledge seems overbearing at times, it illustrates how much the city is constantly changing. Being a New Yorker means having a “fatalistic acceptance of the permanent presence of loss,” and it seems that there is not much to do but become nostalgic.

Downtown- My Manhatten takes you back to the first day you came to the city, when you were awed by the buildings, the lights, or as Hamill described it “Oz”. The book makes you remember why you were so amazed by this city, so full of history yet so cutting edge.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Chinatown Walking Tour

There is no better time to experience Chinatown than during Lunar New Years. The aromas of fish, food and firework fumes, the dashing colors of store signs, all seem magnified in light of the festivities. Even the usual wry smiles of the fishmongers were turned into full-blown grins. But to walk through the claustrophobic streets with a group of over-enthusiastic tourists? I’ll be the first to admit I barely lasted 10 minutes.

The New Years Walking Tour took place on the last three Saturday’s of January. Although the dates change each year depending on the lunar calendar. It is sponsored by the inconspicuous Chinatown museum, the Museum of Chinese in America. The tour walks you through the Chinatown neighborhoods starting from the Museum. The purpose of the tour is to educate tourists about traditions of Chinese New Years and how immigrants reproduce them here in New York.

The sheer amount of people in Chinatown in the week leading up to Chinese New Year is overwhelming. It seemed like the whole city decided to drop by and absorb the festivities and “fu qi” or good luck. The tour guide was a middle aged man with many humorous anecdotes about the Chinese, he started by explaining what Lunar New Years is and why the dates change every year. When we started walking, I realized that attempting to hear over the squabbling people in my group while trying to absorb everything that was going on, was going to be a lost cause. So I branched off to explore the streets that the tour guide had pointed out as the most festive.

I caught quite the eyeful that day; my experience with Chinese New Years has always been a week of festivities, games, food and of course, family. I don’t think anything would make up for the lack of that most important element, but being in Chinatown made it quite hard to stay down about missing out at home. Many of the streets were covered in a thick layer of shredded confetti, and there were hundreds of stalls selling flowers and firecrackers. Chinese New Years in New York is as if everything has been crammed into the tiny streets and exploded into a huge celebration.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

The Bowery Mission


Alexander Romano – A handsome 40 year old man with compassionate eyes that tells a story of sadness and hope.

Steve Zakvzewski – Your classmate’s preoccupied, businessman dad always dressed in a nice tucked-in shirt with a brown belt.

KiKi Adebola – Tall African man, with a deep accented voice that accentuates his genuine humor and optimism.

Rich – The quirky guy with flowers on his on his bunk ready to hand it out to the pretty girl that walks by.

Tim – The 18 year Mid-Western kid who looks too young to be anywhere but home.

Each of these men had a story of their own, of days drowned by alcohol, of living and hustling on the streets, of coke filled years. But today, they woke up at 5:30 am, they attend bible classes, counseling sessions, they tended to the house they live in together as a brotherhood. Today they are joined together by the The Bowery Mission.

The Bowery Mission was founded in 1879 in the days when the Bowery had no hint of glamour, where the rent was far from today’s SoHo prices, where most of the “winos” lived on the free streets. Today, The Bowery Mission remains grounded on the old building on 227 Bowery. Like the men living in the house, the building has seen its worst days and has stayed behind to help.
The Bowery Mission provides a mid-way house for the homeless as a place to quit their various addictions and to bring their life back on track. A legacy exists at the Bowery: when a man is saved, he stays to save another by passing on experience and love. “I went from the garbage can to Madison Avenue,” said James Macklin, the Director of Outreach, “My heart is wrapped up in helping people.”

Most of the men not only find a new track in life, they also find religion. “I came to America for the American Dream, I’ve got it, but now I also have the Spiritual Dream,” said KiKi Adebola, who now works as a counselor at The Bowery Mission. Through religion they learn to shift their energies from addictions to something better. Some who are not religious can not understand why religion is enforced and why the men never fail to mention their spiritual growth. But if through religion they gain hope, reason and it keeps them on the right track, then how could it be bad?

I expected to find people in rags, with dirty nails and teeth, speaking in intelligible accents without much content, but I found the exact opposite. I found men with humor and substance, clean and sobered; they had the vibe of young men starting life afresh. They were full of stories and experiences that most of us think we know by watching movies, while they know what it’s really like to be a “hustler in the hood.” Most importantly they were full of lessons, lessons learned the hard way. “If you fall, get back up. Don’t stay,” said Alexander Romano.