Chicago Outdoors

The city hasn’t changed much since the last visit. Only the traveller has. The lake front remains in its deceptive calmness, with boats and geese competing for space and attention. On one street corner is a lone saxophonist playing for change. On the other side of the street is a group of barely clad black dancers showing off to impressive hip-hop beats. They have an audience. A few feet away is a gay advocacy group holding up cards and urging pedestrians to get on the move to legalize same-sex marriage in Illinois as it is being done everywhere else. (After all, Chicago used to be the third biggest city in the US and thus the next biggest place to gather for such protests).

The other differences are conditional: a summer heat, a working fountain which – according to a guide – was said to have also been donated to America by France (just like the Statue of Liberty). The truth is less direct, of course. Wikipedia says the fountain was only designed by a Frenchman. The Bean of Chicago (actually called “Cloud Gate”) remained where it had always been, eluding contact on the first visit, and still impressive on contact. It’s made of stainless steel although everything else suggests otherwise. But of course, glass does not curve like that and would not have survived so much touch, knock and human contact, so there.

The Abraham Lincoln statue still sits in Grant’s Park, and the Ulyses Grant’s statue still stands at Lincoln Park. Chicago’s park humour. There are a few more: a homeless guy with a sign that says “Why lie. I (just) need a drink.”

 

Homeliness and the Deck

Driving in a dry warm weather through a whiff of air that smells like harmattan and its burnt grass flavour, he heads to school. This is the standard. There are other freedoms along the way: a chance to walk a quiet neighbourhood at night with a coon cat on a leash with a few random stares by those who had never seen anyone of that height and/or complexion in that side of town in a long time, and greeting nods from those who had, or who know him as the new stranger in the big house. An always wonderful evening meal with an amazing family, and after-conversations ranging from events, to issues, to life, and to time.

On the last day of December, 1983 – you were too small to remember – we were stuck at the border point between Benin and Nigeria trying to get back into the country after having traversed the West African coastline visiting very nice places. The Benin border patrols had cleared us but the Nigerian folks won’t let us in. They said there had been a change of government… And the Beninoise then refused to let us back in their country as soon as we got back there… Has anything changed now?

Sitting on the wooden deck out in the warm evening breeze, he looks down into the woods where trees of varying heights and shades go on and on onto a house farther down where no one had ever been. Some people used to live there. On the closer trees are bird feeders filled with sunflower seeds. Father showed him how to add more to it whenever it finished. The squirrels spend much of their times there. Chipmunks also come whenever the sound of hawks are not close by. With little pouches under their necks, they look almost as their exaggerated depictions in those animated movies. A robin came in once along with a little one. Hummingbirds offer a most surprising sight, wheezing in and out of sight like extra large honeybees. The cardinals are the most beautiful, with red crested heads and feathers and a certain grace, all giving the evening a flavour of more than just their sounds.

Whenever the amazing tune of life gets stuck in the mucky throat of over-excitement or even oversimplification, the deck offers comfort, along with the other perks of homeliness. Then everything is all right again.