Brooklyn, Schnooklyn
We arrived in Brooklyn and took in the beautiful sights of a slightly narrower Manhattan. I think my companions blended in very well:
We picked a direction and began walking. Each block was virtually identical: video game store, restaurant, barbers, hardware store. At one point we saw a fire engine backing into a station marked 'Ladder 14'. I told Ayub and Lorenzo that, as they were covering this area, they should go over and introduce themselves to the grizzled, white-haired fireman who looked like he'd seen more deaths than Pol Pot. After all the experience Ayub has had covering a warzone, I could not believe that he seemed terrified of doing this. So I put on my best clueless Brit accent and introduced myself to 'Mike McGuire', who had a perfect thick Brooklyn accent. He told us where the control office was, pointed out a few things, was generally helpful. By the way, we've been told time and time again not to do any 'Bogarting', ie what everyone dreams of doing as a reporter in New York. So it's always best to grovel and be polite - if you sidle up to a cop and say 'hey tootsie, spill the beans or I'm gonna ravish your wife', consider the city closed.
Further into Sunset Park, the influx of Chinese became rather apparent. A kindly old lady told us that the Chinese came to the area 'ten families at a time', even living in the basement of houses, which once upon a time was not actually allowed. She was also upset that her neighbour John cluttered up his yard, especially as he was 'one of them...you know, gays' and lived with a 'friend'. There was a great market, however:
It was now time to go to Borough Park. It's utterly amazing how, in the space of one street, you can go from all-Chinese to all-Hassidim. Women began to wear strange dark robes and tough little hats, while children stared sulkily from their sidelocks (well, maybe not, but the alliteration sounds really good). I picked a random guy to introduce myself to, a guy in his 50s/60s who was sitting on the steps of his house. 'Ernest' turned out to be originally from Romania, a self-described 'Liberal Jew' who did not have many kind words to say about his Hassidic neighbours. By this point we were very hungry, so I said my goodbyes and did not even bother visiting Bushwick. My future lies with my people, Tevye!
So now I'm just trawling through websites trying to find a suit and a kippah. Irritatingly, I can only find bizarre novelty ones with sequins on them, or custom-made leather ones that only Peter Stringfellow would wear. But it's good that I've finally got a neighbourhood. And I've almost finished my dissertation, so I'll be able to concentrate my studies on street reporting and the Pentateuch.
PS Joe, please check your email again, I need some tips on how to style my sideburns