Millie from 83 Wyckoff dances in celebration of Puerto Rico Day. — Photos by Jeremy Sapienza

Over the two years and change I’ve lived here, I have come to realize that warnings to stay in or get out of town on Puerto Rico Day are at best overreactions to a little extra noise; at worse, a terrible way to deny oneself a great time. The Post, AP, NYT — of course tying in the Sotomayor nomination — and others reported on the festivities over in yonder little island of Manhattan. I rather think those of us who stuck around and put on our own party here in Bushwick had a better and definitely more hassle-free time.

We lent our barbecue to the good folks at 83 Wyckoff at the corner of Suydam before heading to the supermarket late yesterday morning. By the time we came back, Italian sausage in hand, a crowd had exploded across the entire block and beyond, dancing and singing along to salsa and merengue standards about Santería, slavery, and summer in New York. Interspersed were early-’80s freestyle and Marc Anthony (or Hector Lavoe) ballads.

 
More Puerto Rico Day 2009 pics from Wyckoff Avenue.

Starving, plates of macaroni salad, hotdogs, grilled chicken, and arroz con gandules were shoved into our hands. “I treat you like my son, you gotta eat,” said Alex Mendez, a resident of the building and self-appointed grill master. Co-griller and wife Lisa blushed when BushwickBK’s Luis Velázquez, decked out in his “Made in Puerto Rico” t-shirt, told her the rice was the best he’d ever had.

For hours, cars draped in massive flags, both official and rebellious, drove by honking and drew roars of “weeeeepaaaaa!” and “Que viva Puerto Rico!” from the crowd. Apparently it got to be all too much for the 83rd — the cops shut down Wyckoff, Irving, and Knickerbocker (possibly more) to all but local traffic. No matter: the party continued, we gorged ourselves on watermelon and beer in styrofoam cups, and entertained ourselves by hooting and hollering at the occasional passing police van. Fort Greene’s 88th Precinct seems to have been called in to help.

Millie, a resident of 83 Wyckoff, balked when asked to dance. “I’m a fake Puerto Rican, I don’t know how to dance.” She then proceeded to dance more than anyone else throughout the day. Millie grew up in Williamsburg and has lived in Bushwick since 2000. “You live on Central, is that area getting better?” she asked. “When I was a kid on the South Side it was BAD. Really bad, not like you see now.”

Later on, the charming Maritza Dávila of Ridgewood-Bushwick Senior Citizen’s Council and BK Dem. Boss Vito Lopez‘s wings came through, schmoozing and buttering up the crowds — certainly the gregarious resident of Wyckoff Avenue will have more draw for these partiers than the prim and middle-class (and Dominican) Diana Reyna, with or without dirty tricks. After she took a look at Norte Maar’s “Draw” exhibition in the storefront of 83 Wyckoff, we told Ms. Dávila of a speeding problem on our block of Central Avenue and she commiserated appropriately before saying “I gotta get on the Council to get you that stop sign.” Noted.

Our Aaron Short asked Norman Jabaut, a nurse at Wyckoff Heights’ emergency room, if there had been any PR Day-related injuries. “Not so far,” replied Jabaut.

As the sun began to set and the unseasonably chilly air caused us goosebumps, we bade our hosts farewell and walked back home via María Hernández Park to soak in the activity. All of Bushwick was nearly a car-free zone for a few hours down to Wilson Avenue, where a crush of cars honked and cruised by police barricades. On Troutman Street near Central, speakers the size of a car blasted the block’s revelers with (pretty terrible) reggaeton.

Earlier, Maritza Dávila said, smartly, that the communities of new and older residents are “integrating.” I don’t know if that’s necessarily true, but for at least one day, curious and distant stares between different communities gave way to salsa shuffles between neighbors.

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