This is L.A.

After an uneventful flight we arrived at L.A.X. Theres something about Los Angeles, perhaps its the dryness, the light pastel colours of the buildings, or the effect the smog has on the light, but everything looks washed out and old.

Our next plane was leaving from Longbeach airport, and was due to take us to New York, and the best way to Longbeach was by train. At the train station, I see a bunch of young guys and girls, dressed in kind of homie regalia hanging out under this huge overpass, with massive concrete pillars supporting it. A car pulls up, and then doubles back. A couple of the guys from the group of people hanging out then walked over to the car, and started talking excitedly to the guys in the car, one of the young homies pointed a finger at the car, and as he raised his voice, I realised that he was pointing it as if it was a gun, then one of the girls screamed "he's got a gun!" - suddenly both the young guys ran for the pillars, an Asian dude in the car behind does a quick U-turn, and screeches off. I see this arm lolling out the first cars window with a big silver pistol, kind of aiming casually in their direction, and then the arm hangs limp down by the door, as much to say "ahh, I can't be fucked" and the car drives off. A few people chat excitedly as the trian pulls up and everyone gets on board. "Compton" a voice called out over the intercom, "Next stop, Compton". I studiously avoid making eye contact with anyone.
An old guy gets on the train - "watches, you want some watches, they nice watches..". A couple of youths laugh, one of them humours him "yeah maybe later, you come back and see me". The youths get into a conversation, like they were in a movie

A: I bet that she disses you

B: How much?

A: I bet choo fai dallas

B: but waht do you consider a diss?

A: I don't know man, if she bring you down or sompin

B: So if she say "you aint on my level"

A: Yeah

B: What if she say "you aint on my level", and I bring the shit up, I say "but I wanna be on your level, are you feeling me?"

We get off the train. Another old guy forages through a rubbish bin for recyclable bottles and puts them in a big plastic bag. He's not wearing a uniform, so I figure its a freelance thing.

We talk to this Guatemalan girl, an older guy joins in the conversation. "Cuba? Oh, you goin to Cuba? Well, we can't go there you see. This is a free country, we should be able to go anywhere we want. Anyone should be able to go anywhere they want." He's fervent, and he's local, so I dare not disagree. "People come here to make more money, and I don't blame them." He starts to talk to the Guatemalan girl about what kind of visa she is on. "Well, you could get married" the guy says, "that would get you residency. One day, I'm going to marry a foreign girl, so that she can get residency." He pulls out a bunch of rings to show us. "I sell these, you know, to make a little money. I don't need it, you understand. I'm at a stage where I don't need to work, I worked all my life." He asks the girl which ring she likes. He tells her she can keep it. "Now you're married" he jokes.

The city may look faded to me, but the people don't. When you live in a place where you might get shot, and where you have to hustle a little, that gives you a kind of charge.