Today I went back to the area that I called home for five years. I moved across the city to be there. Local shops still line the streets but something has changed, and all day I’ve been stuck wondering, is it the town or is it me. No doubt both have changed, but I am wondering how much of my love for that town was built on the misjudgment that the sense of community was felt universally throughout the streets.
Is it the fact that the old market in the center has been torn and replaced with an empty parking lot despite the fact that the roads are so small that cars barely pass through? Is it the fact that aside from three spots, I have nowhere in particular to go? Is it the that I essentially need to spend money in order to sit down anywhere, that I feel a kind of pressure to consume?
The first shop I went to was warm and welcoming, which is why I went there first. It’s a blend of Filipino and Japanese food, run by two local women and one of their Filipino husbands. We have lots to talk about. Our politics and ideas about the world are not very different, the only difference is that they are all ten years older than me and have children. I was introduced to the new member of the team who is also community oriented and wants to show me around another part of town which has many people who are into the idea of sustainability. We all talked for about four hours and the food was as incredible as I remember.
After that...I wasn’t really sure where to go. There are a bunch of bars and cafes I used to frequent. Half of them are gone and the other half....well....
I went into one place because I saw someone I knew. It was nice talking to him, a used clothing seller and enthusiast. The experience of being back there made me realize that it was just a place to hang out and meet people, which in itself is nice, but is nowhere near as fulfilling as meeting people who have a shared sense of purpose and worldview, which I have since discovered.
The next place was even worse. When I told the owner of the third shop that I was spending the last two years working part time and writing, he basically teased me for being a lazy bum who doesn’t know how to work. It didn’t hurt but it sure didn’t make me feel at home. I think he regretted saying it because he could see how I didn’t really know where to take the conversation from there. A joke is a joke, sure, but I have passion for what I do and a joke was all he could respond with. The awkward thing about it is that he owns a bar, he is like me, not good at wearing a suit and having a boss, but perhaps to fit in with all his customers, who are working full time for companies, he feels he has to belittle anyone above 30 who calls themselves an artist and isn’t famous. Once again, didn’t take it to heart, just didn’t have much to say after that.
I ate at a place I used to go to a lot, all the staff was new, I never knew the owner there either so there was no one to reminisce with, lots of shops are probably like that.
I’m stuck here wondering, was community and a shared sense of purpose essentially just an important thing to the friends I made in the first shop, or have many of these old neighbors given up on all that, as people in their late twenties and early thirties often do? The shops all just look like businesses to me now. The place that was the first place I called home no longer felt like home. At least I still have a few friend here and there and a doorway into new possibilities. It’s funny though, I don’t think I’ll be spending very much time at that little village that used to feel like paradise.