There’s a little run-down blue house a couple blocks away that has been continuously occupied for the last five years by a rotating group of newly-arrived Laotians. (At least, I believe them to be Laotians, based on a conversation I once overheard as I walked by.) I can always spot the new arrivals because they sit outside on the curb in the morning, drinking tea out of a bowl and smoking some strange brand of cigarette. After a few weeks, they figure out that this is not the custom in Eureka and they drink their tea inside.
This very un-fancy house has the ugliest sort of landscaping–just a bunch of rocks and a few weeds that have been allowed to grow into actual plants. So imagine my delight when I walked by the other day and saw an assortment of mustard greens and other such brassica sprouting up between the terrible rocks. Since I took this picture, beans have started climbing that pole.
Front yard vegetable gardening. A proud immigrant tradition that the rest of us are just catching on to. Well done, Laotians.