Monday, June 25, 2018 8:31 AM

Right before my stop, the local bus makes a detour that I don't expect, into the neighborhood just east of mine. It feels like a different world. My neighborhood has relatively straight streets with large houses and greenery everywhere. Here, dusty roads barely wide enough for the bus twist and loop, packed like intestines into a space that seems too small to hold them. Small houses are crammed next to and behind one another. Worn metal awnings stretch above their doorways, shading the concrete slabs that serve as porches. Looking more closely, though, it's not quite as desolate as it first seemed. The endless houses are punctuated by occasional stores, parks, and community centers. Bright banners and bulletin boards announce and celebrate events. Still, it feels too cramped for me, in its own pocket universe connected by only a few roads and infrequent buses to mine. I almost moved into that neighborhood but I got lucky, finding a much larger apartment with close to the same rent as the ones I'd looked at there. The bus eventually comes back out of the neighborhood at the same point that it went in. I'm glad that I got a better sense of the place, but I'm equally glad that I didn't move there.