Roadside Tamales

Welcome to the city. It's written all over the place around here. Not in those words, of course; 'Bienvenidos' is not in the graffiti. The welcome is in the art, the crowded streets, and the outstretched hands that only want some of your change. You weren't going to save it anyway, right?

What a beautiful city! When I thought of graffitti at home I thought of a tagged overpass and an occasional trian car from the big cities. I thought of an under appreciated and misunderstood art form. Nobody mentioned to me the art in the streets when I said I was coming to hollywood. But who would recognize a Banksy in another city without being plugged into the artist community? Expression is everywhere, the messages as unique as their medium.

The people here too are a wonder to me. Their sheer number is astounding; this neighborhood never sleeps and in every building around us there are multiple families. Appartment style, of course, but there are so many! The neighborhood never sleeps and then there's the tamale man.

Our first morning here at seven in the morning someone in the alley started yelling. I had no idea what was up at first and ran to the window to see what was going on. And then i understood him: "Tamales asados!"

I've been told that all the venders have their own special cry and that on Saturdays there are many more of them that come through. It's crazy to think of staying afloat in this economy selling tamales or working as an ice cream man walking up and down the streets or selling vegetables at the vegetable stands in the neighborhood. They must have second jobs as well.