sometimes, corona is just like any other neighborhood in new york.

people fill the sidewalks - many of them not speaking english.
there's a mcdonalds, a dunkin donuts, a walgreens. a post office. a library.
there are lots and lots of kids.
and a subway line runs through it.

once in a while, though, this neighborhood becomes instantly foreign.

take, for example, yesterday. i was standing in dunkin donuts getting morning coffee (we've been getting up earlier - i find coffee helps with that) and a guy came in to talk to the workers. they all began chatting in a language that wasn't english, spanish, or french and then the guy pulled a package out of his pocket and handed it to one of the girls who took it and thanked him, obviously aware of what it was.

inside? a chicken foot.