A walk through Flushing on a Sunday morning

Little known fact: The name Flushing is derived from the Dutch Vlissingen, a port in Holland. I have no idea how “Flushing” derives from “Vlissingen.”

If you know only one thing about Queens (besides the fact that it is a borough of Manhattan) you probably know about the big globe thing, the Unisphere, at the site of the World’s Fair that was featured in Men in Black. Although I spent much of my young life here as a kid, it never occurred to me until today that Queens was really the best possible place to have the World’s Fair because it is the most diverse county in the United States (if not the world).

While tourists to New York visit Chinatown in Manhattan to get the “Asian experience,” the real Chinatown (the one not for tourists) is actually not in Manhattan but rather in Flushing, Queens. The real difference is that in Chinatown, you’re one of a thousand different colors – there are much more tourists in Chinatown than Chinese inhabitants. If you happen to be a white girl in the heart of Flushing, however, you’re literally the only one.

[My first experience as a complete minority happened on a hot summer day while on a walk through Flushing Corona Park (where the Unisphere is), about a mile from Flushing’s Chinatown. The park was brimming with Latino families playing in or watching soccer games. I do not exaggerate when I tell you that I was the only non Latina].

The Q17 bus passed by the familiar dusty brick apartment buildings most common in Queens, arrived at the intersection of Kissena Blvd. and Main Street, and only 15 minutes from my apartment – here a whole new world appeared before me. The streets were packed…the cars were honking, the bright colors of Chinese and Korean shop signs stood out against the blue sky – the silver decorations for the new year celebration sparkled in the sun. The bus drove by blurs of red from outdoor shops selling lanterns. This was my first time venturing into the real Chinatown of New York. I wandered through the Asian markets and malls sipping a Passionfruit iced tea from a popular Chinese tea store, watched chefs chopping unfamiliar meat in windows, passed by street vendors standing behind mounds of Lo Mein and slabs of chicken. Today I was literally the only non-Asian in a community that was not too long ago predominantly Jewish. The only evidence of Main Street’s history, however, was an old church that was once a temple and kept the original Tiffany windows with Jewish stars. Amazingly, despite my background, I felt completely at home. I was born in the hospital just up the road.

I stopped into an art store in the Flushing mall and walked through the aisles of Chinese sculptures. A frightful white marble pot-like object with large three dimensional colored glass flowers that looked like sea urchins disturbed the sense of peace invoked by the beautiful Daoist style sculpture that stood adjacent to it. I was thoroughly disgusted until I came upon some terrifying dragons beautifully carved in intricate detail on large wooden chairs. I stepped outside and heard the loud beating of a drum. I crossed the street and followed the sound to a large crowd watching two white dragons go door to door from fruit stand to dumpling shop asking for treats for the New Year. Mothers watched with their young children and I caught a few older onlookers offering up small smiles as well - as if they had seen it a thousand times before but still appreciated the event.

I passed by the window of a hair and nail shop. Although the sign and list of services was of course, in Chinese, a small sign in the window said “Se Habla Espanol.”
Only in New York.

I walked up Sanford Avenue to get back on the Q17 and passed by some orange balloons going my way. They were headed for a stroll in the street until a large POP POP sound told me that they had been run over by a car. That’s what happens when you jaywalk in New York – event if you’re just a little orange balloon. I tried to take a picture of the remaining balloons, but they bashfully hid behind a van. When I turned around again, they had decided to play it safe and had made their way onto the sidewalk headed back towards Chinatown.