Spurred on by a City Paper posting, a friend suggested on Sunday that we head over to the Easter Parade on Pennsylvania Avenue. According to the article, the parade was on a hiatus for over 20 years, and has been resurrected by the churches of the neighborhood as “[a]n opportunity for people who are leaving church to extend their Sunday finery by taking part in a tradition.”

And what a joyous tradition! The enthusiastic drumming of an all-woman Brazilian percussion group, Batala, lured us over to an elementary school playground where they warmed up and set the tone for the parade. The Baltimore Arrabers were well represented with their horses and buggies, and I felt a special kinship with the lone rider who had on the same cowboy hat as me. Several cheerleading troops and dance squads kept spirits high. And a slow rolling display of beautifully kept cars made me eye up a ride other than my Honda Accord for the first time in years.

It reminded me of so much that I love about Baltimore. The joy of life. The mix of traditions. Rhythmic, from-the-gut music. Vibrant crowds. Dance. Neighborhood pride. The elders and the young tussling in the same circles. A constant re-invention of the city in ways that brings out our own best strengths. Seeing people you know every where you go.

It was a beautiful Sunday, and I was so glad that my friend had pulled me out to a parade. Not having heard about it, I would have missed it otherwise.

Also, having just spent time in Toronto, the idea of ‘city’ is very much on my mind. I’ve been on heightened Baltimore-awareness-mode the past week. (Which is always one of my favorite parts about traveling: the perspective it gives you on your arrival home, seeing your everyday life as something that could be just as magical as the place you just left).

Here’s what I love about Baltimore — it’s American in all the best and worst ways possible, but it’s alive and fighting and struggling, and the stakes are high. People from so many diverse fields are attracted to this city because of the fight and the vibrancy, and the life-or-death stakes.

Hopkins; Baltimore Club; dealing drugs: political scrappiness; old-school corruption; hard hitting football players; television shows about The War On Drugs; “a long-time powerhouse in the world of college chess”; Wham City; men selling fruit and vegetables out of a horse-drawn buggy because it’s tradition and, hey, why not?!, let’s slow down to horse-and-buggy-speed every so often; Wye Oak; Healthcare For The Homeless; 2640 Space; still-standing warehouses and factories to remind us of the not-too-distant past when everything from complex machines (my newly acquired upright piano) to the clothes you wore (and they probably fit better) were made within 20 miles of where you slept; friends, friends, and always a new friend to be made around the corner; violence, threats of violence and allegations of violence hovering in the air; a history-making, visionary symphony orchestra director; good water; fox, cardinals, and squirrels all seen a few blocks from my row-house; John Waters; Billie Holiday; Tupac . . .

Risk. Passion. Uncertainty. Heart. Challenge. Baltimore has it.

And on a beautiful Sunday afternoon at the beginning of April, Baltimore was just boiled down to a fun neighborhood parade, laughing with a friend, and soaking the perfect feeling of the air into my skin (knowing that the humidity is coming, so I better enjoy every semi-non-sticky day while I have it!).

This entry was posted on Thursday, April 8th, 2010 at 2:10 am and is filed under Posts.