First Impressions

I know these feelings. These faint stirrings of wonder and awe and unfamiliarity. Although I disembarked from the Fruitvale BART station only minutes ago, I find my thoughts jumping back much further in time, to when I was 13, and crossing the border at Mexicali for the first time.

Now, to say that Fruitvale feels the same as Mexicali does both places a disservice, but it’s hard not to have a similar sense of out-of-placeness in both of them. Fruitvale is only 4 stops from my neighborhood BART station (19th St. Oakland), but it is a different world in so many  ways.

A sweet sugary odor (both brown and white I think) wafts from the El Sol Bakery to my left, across E 12th Avenue from the Fruitvale Village mini-mall. According to the banner hanging above it’s door El Sol is “Just Opened”. I can also smell fresh cinnamon and hot dough from a churro vendor’s cart that’s tucked into a corner of El Sol’s patio.

Many signs are in Spanish—proclaiming everything from low rates on calling cards to Central and South America, to the best selection of dresses and accessories for your quinceañera  or wedding. One doesn’t need to stand in one place too long on a sunny day before an ice cream cart vendor passes by, his imminent arrival teased by his ever jingling bell.

I reach E 14th Avenue, the famous (infamous?) International Boulevard, and take a left, walking towards downtown Oakland. A young girl, probably in her early 20’s, is manning a cart selling plastic quart containers filled with sliced fruits and melons. She liberally sprinkles unprocessed cane sugar, cinnamon, and cayenne pepper on each container as they’re purchased, stabbing a long wooden skewer in as a finishing touch. She shyly declines to be interviewed, but I linger long enough to watch her make a few sales before continuing.
 

When asked what people liked most about Fruitvale many people responded that they liked how close everything they needed was. “Everything’s close, like the liquor store” says Wilburt Stanley, a 17 year-old high school student. He laughs at his joke, and it’s obvious he doesn’t mean it and is just trying to be funny. Wilburt’s friend Javier, who’s 16, laughs too. Both Wilburt and Javier have just left their classes at Arise High School for the day, and have been called over by Donald, a security guard for the Fruitvale Village, just to speak with me. Donald used to live in Fruitvale, but moved a year and a half ago. He suggests that the pair of high schoolers can be more helpful than he can.

Asked about safety concerns both boys laugh off the question at first. “There’s a security guard right here!” says Wilburt.

“This here’s my buddy!” says Javier.

After the laughter both boys do acknowledge that crime is an issue in the neighborhood, but say that it’s not a problem during the day. Some days they get out of classes early, at 1pm, and Javier says that when they do “you don’t see [the thieves],” and that they only come out in the evening, after about 5pm.

Maria M., 34, who sells bacon-wrapped hot dogs and sausages from a cart near the corner of E 14th and Fruitvale Avenue, says that she doesn’t leave the house at night. She loves the neighborhood for the large Latino population, and all four of her daughters go to school nearby, but she says that she doesn’t let them walk home or take public transportation. Instead, her husband, who works in Berkeley, returns from work to pick them up and take them home. She says that while E 14th is bustling with people at 9-10am, it is practically deserted at 7pm when all but the bars shut down.

Almost everyone I spoke with cited concerns about safety, and the need for more police patrols. Many also volunteered the fact that they would be willing to pay more taxes if it meant more and more frequent police patrols.

Julius Kabera, a 42 year-old Kenyan who moved to Fruitvale 5 years ago said that if the police department can’t afford to hire more officers it should just buy more cars instead. He says that he used to see only one police officer in a car, but now every car has two officers. He feels that they could cover the neighborhood much more comprehensively if they weren’t doubled up all the time.

Three people I spoke with either recently had friends assaulted (for money), or were the victims of a crime themselves. Julius thinks that most robbers around the Fruitvale Village area target Hispanics returning from work, who carry cash and who are more often than not reluctant to involve the police. He thinks this is either because of fear based on their immigration status or the ever-present language barrier that exists between many in the Hispanic community and the police.

More posts coming soon!