Paseo Boricua is the name for Chicago’s Puerto Rican corridor, also known (to gringas like me) as Division Street. Last weekend, it was the entry point for the Fiesta Puertorriquenas at Humboldt Park.
Mi hermano and I walked around the park, aka la fiesta, and watched the parade. (Editor’s note: I take no responsibility for any terrible Spanish used within this blog post.) There were drag queens and chants in Spanish and politicians and low-riders and motorcycles. Another high point? We ate meat on a stick.
Then we ate coco frio. For those of you who don’t hablo Espanol that means, “cold coconut.” It was a cup full of delicious coconut ice cream (sorbet?).
Then we met up with my buddy Jane and her man, Dylan. Jane is great because she uses the word “shitbag” a lot, and it sounds just right coming from her mouth. And I’ve known her since third grade! Isn’t that nuts? She’s also great because she knows about rat roulette.
What, you ask, is rat roulette? Well…
It’s a little carnival game in which you place your bets (one quarter, please) on a specific color. Then the carnie in charge spins a big game wheel, and places the rat down. Whatever color hole the rat crawls into is the winner. Then you get a prize. Jane wanted to pet the rat, and they let her have a minute to enjoy some quality rodent time.
And Dylan won the right color! He selected the best prize there, “Captain Puerto Rico.”