Lifetecture

I’ve been hearing the sounds of a street festival drifting up to my apartment on the 11th floor – through the thermopane windows – for the past couple of nights; so yesterday evening Bo and I went down to see what was going on at street level. We found Mexico in Chicago, right on Allport St, outside St. Procopius Catholic church who were having a block party to benefit their school. We arrived around sunset and the sounds of a mariachi band were loud enough to reverberate around Pilsen. There were lots of people watching and a lone couple dancing away in the middle of the street. Papel Picado banners fluttered above and festive lights were slowly starting to come on.

The smell of food was amazing and once we figured out the ticket system we decided to sample the fare. I bought enough for posole, which I love, and while Bo queued for her tacos I sat on the curb eating and looking around. It was like being in another country. There was no English to be heard, except over the loudspeaker when the Bingo caller translated the numbers emerging from a plastic tub. Everywhere people revelled in the sights, sounds and smells, sitting at round tables or right on the street; queuing for tasty treats or aqua fresca drinks.

The posole was like Mexican chicken soup – exactly what I needed to recover from the party I threw on Saturday night. Hot, spicy and deliciously nourishing, it tasted all the better outside on the street. Neighborhood festivals are a way for residents to take back the streets and it made me painfully aware of the loss of public space at the expense of the convenience of cars. Many Americans don’t seem to get the benefits of organization for the common good. There is a lot of fear of systems reflective of more socialist constructs, common in the society where I grew up. I wonder if pedestrian streets will become more of an option now that people are realizing the actual cost of gas? After living here for almost fifteen years, I realize that while everyone is aggressively searching for individual “freedom,” society as a whole suffers.

I know from my research on local Catholic churches that St. Procopius was originally founded by the Benedictines to service the first Bohemian residents of Pilsen. Trace signs are still visible on the architecture which reads Skola – Czech for School. According to the Sanbourn Fire Insurance map from 1912, there used to be a Benedictine Press on the street, but it’s difficult to figure out if that building is still there vol-8-sheet-38-st-procopius. The lights of the church came through the stained glass so we went to see if it was open. There is an ongoing effort to restore the structure and interior of the church, which is now under the care of the Jesuit order. The newly painted space looks great, with intricate gold patterns spiraling around the altar and apse. Gladioli were everywhere and apart from two or three older women at the front, we were alone to say a prayer. It was a relief have some quiet in this sacred space while the party still raged in the outdoor room of the street outside.