Chicago Dispatch: The difference between walking in Chicago and Bangalore

In the neighborhood that my parents currently live in and the one that I grew up in, it is ridiculously easy to find things. By things I mean bread. For instance, there is a bakery, a tailor, a fruit and vegetable market, a newspaper and cigarette store and a restaurant all within walking distance i.e. under 2 miles. So a lot more than bread. 

As a child, I learned in school that this was a luxury, not promised to all. Most of my classmates had never ventured out of their homes, alone and on foot. Usually, they were chaperoned and/or in cars or motorbikes. As a result, both my brother and I have found that we are braver than our contemporaries. Because we not only beat all the kids on the block when it came to crossing a street alone way but also in conducting monetary transactions unsupervised. It was a cool achievement to unlock at age twelve. Unsurprisingly we both now study in cities far away from our parents. Until I moved to Chicago, the impact of this kind of freedom was unknown to me. When I moved here I found myself to be more inclined to go out exploring on my own. Just like in my childhood, I spend evenings walking around my neighborhood, in and out of various stores. Unfortunately, my current neighborhood in Chicago has not been blessed with conveniences like the one where my parents live. I have to walk a greater distance to get all of the things I could with a shorter walk when I lived with my parents. For example, there are no bakeries baking fresh bread and sponge cakes on a daily basis. Neither is there an old lady selling fresh fruits and vegetables of the season on the pavement. There is also no sign of a tailor, so now most of my clothes come from a store and run the risk of matching someone else’s. There is sadly no man selling hot salted peanuts or sliced guavas that I can eat while I walk. All of this left behind in the neighborhood that my parents currently live in. 

Instead in my neighborhood there is a Jewel-Osco that sells cut up strawberries and kiwis that look deceivingly sweet. There is a 24 hours CVS where I can take passport pictures, buy medication AND the occasional bag of chips. There is bar I can get a drink at or two until 4 am. There is a suspect massage parlor where I would never get a massage from and neither should you do  if you're a daredevil you should give it a spin. 

Instead in my neighborhood what I do have is better roads and an actual pavement. The streets are cleaner. In my new neighborhood, I am less likely to step on poop, fall into a ditch, be run over by a speeding motorist, get verbally abused by a raging car driver. The risks are considerably lower. In my current neighborhood, there is an order to things. There is silence and respect for space. 

Walking here is more an exercise in solitude. It is less about navigating crowded spaces and an eventful evening of socializing. 

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The Chicago Dispatch is a weekly status update that includes survival hacks, tips, cons and pros of a decision that Ivashkov chose to make during, before or after her commute. This post intends to help you understand or in a parallel world live through a decision that ,having seen the consequences, you can avoid making in your own life, unless you're a rebel. Then good for you man! 

Over and out