My Window on the World:A Surrealistic Credo

~all ; a sickening smell of frying grease SOOI1 mixes in. A small, obviously unattended, two-year-old clad in a dirty diaper and buried in blackl_1esscrawls down the hallway. He has found that the roaches are hl~ only playmates. For company he may pull up and look out t~1ewmdow to see the neighbors walking, standing, and sitting outside, no matter what the hour of the day or night. There are so many people that to look out onto the street they seem to have no identity; they just seem to exist. Never so many people, never so much filth can be captured anywhere else as in this God-forsaken, inescapable blot. Here the horrid ugliness of reality arises and surrounds and suffocates us on all sides. This is el barrio de Nueva York