Riding my bike through my Brooklyn neighborhood, Williamsburg, is like taking a short jaunt across the world. To the north is a Polish section, followed by Italian, Puerto Rican, and Hasidic blocks. Peppered throughout are plenty of yuppies with baby strollers and hipsters in Ray-Bans and skinny jeans. I live in the Italian section, which I love, because that means there's lots of delicious sausages, gelato, and crusty bread available. Also there are cute old ladies in housedresses that chill in folding chairs on the sidewalk, along with their grumpy white-haired men with walkers. Every summer the Italian church throws a street fair. The air fills with the scent of fried food and throngs of people clog the streets, clutching neon pina colada containers. That part I could do without, but the statue is pretty cool. To close the festival, a group of guys carry this 20-foot high statue through the streets—a tradition that dates back to 1887.
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