Armenian Fest

What: St. George's Armenian Festival
Where: umm... west?
How much: free!
How to get there: Grand bus #65

As my bus sped west on Grand Avenue, I started to get a little worried. I already live on the West side of the city, so going a half hour more in that direction took me into territory I've never before explored.
I disembarked the bus and walked a few blocks past a Home Depot before I started to hear the promising strains of music. The Armenian Festival was in full swing and it was packed! It was able to be so full because the entire festival was held in the church parking lot. Yes, this was definitely the smallest fest I have attended this year, but also one of the more informative and interesting.

I was joined by my one longtime friend of Armenian descent, Brian. As I scanned the crowd, I was able to see quite clearly the ethnic distinctions present in Brian's features. We made friends at our table and watched some of the fair goers perform traditional Armenian folk dances to the live music being performed. Think the Hora but a bit more complicated and you'll have a good idea of what they look like. If you're even more curious, check out descriptions and videos of the dances here.

After enjoying the entertainment and chatting with our new friends (who cautiously asked me, "Are YOU Armenian?") we wandered past a book tent. Featured books included "Frequently Asked Questions about the Armenian Church". Here's what I learned: Armenian culture seems to be heavily influenced by the genocide at the hands of the Ottoman Empire in 1915. Consequently, Armenians remain none too fond of Turks. Armenia only recently re-established its own independence from the Soviet Union in 1991. That is all.

When we finished perusing the books, carved wooden crosses, and Armenian jellies (I'm quite sad I forgot to buy a jar of apple/pear) we headed into the church basement for some Armenian food. Brian opted for the Shish Kabob and I went with Tabouleh. My pronunciation was gently corrected by the little old man behind the counter.

I forgot to take this picture until we were mostly done eating, but Brian informs me that the rice and salad included with his kabob were not strictly Armenian. It seems the fair food was mostly Mediterranean in nature and not necessarily straight Armenian. Whatever it was, mine was delicious, A++, would buy again.

We rushed upstairs so as not to miss the Armenian dance troupe that was taking the stage at 4. Our kind new friends had saved our seats despite the growing crowds. The Armenian Dance Company of Chicago is a group of high school and college students who give up their Friday nights to practice traditional Armenian dance. "Oh, how nice," their parents think as their upstanding sons and daughters go to church on Friday night rather than going out with their friends. Obviously these parents have completely forgotten being teenagers. Nothing is more seething with hormones than a good church-sponsored musical or dance troupe.

The girls and the boys each performed a slow dance and a fast dance. Then together they performed a fast dance and an encore. I have to admit that the slow dances were none to enthralling, but the lively fast dances were enthusiastic and performed with honest joy.

After watching the band and the dancers, eating food and visiting the one merch tent, we were pretty much out of things to do at the Armenian Festival. We briefly wandered over by the children's games but decided it would be too creepy to stand in line with the six year olds to
throw balls into the "Potty Toss" (complete with fake linoleum floor!). As you can see it didn't stop us from taking a picture.

Overall grade for the Armenian fest: A solid B. Its small size was more than made up for by the great food and entertainment. I'm lucky to have experienced it with a good friend I should make the effort to see more often.

In other news, Ollie is wearing a cone again, I got a new bike and it says "Caliente" on the side, and I registered for classes yesterday! Two more weeks of summer. (I know, you're all so sad for me).

There are lots of festivals this weekend, too many to list them all here. Click on the metromix Festival Guide link to see what's happening. Bonus is a lot of them are free. See you next week!

Retro on Roscoe

What: Retro on Roscoe
Where: Roscoe Village
How Much: $5
How to get there: Damen bus #50 to Roscoe
I am a little confused about what was "Retro" about this fest. Aside from a few vintage cars standing open on the street to be admired, I saw no hint of nostalgia. I very seriously considered wearing one of the dresses I picked up earlier this summer, but after checking Metromix's pictures of last year's events I decided to dress down. I also had a birthday party to go to straight afterward, so I didn't want to look more out of place in Wrigleyville than I already do.

What it lacked in Retro flair it made up for with size. Retro on Roscoe was second only to the Custer Street Fair. There were food vendors set up on either end, and unfortunately Bart and I decided to try the Pad Thai. Bad idea. I don't know if it was an overabundance of fish sauce or what, but something was not right about his pad thai. If you held your nose and pretended it was supposed to be something else, you might have been able to force it down. As it was, I pitched it and bought some pasta salad at Costello's instead.



I have noticed a trend at the festivals- everyone is drunk, no one is paying attention to anyone else, and most people are not even paying attention to themselves. For God's sake, people, look where you are going. I am not sure I am the right person to be attending these festivals, because more often than not Bart and I end up grumbling to each other half the night about how no one watches where there are going. Were it all adults, this might not be such a problem but people keep insisting on bringing their small children to these things! They could get trampled!

I suppose it doesn't help that lots of the fests have set-ups like this- designed to lure in the little ones. I knew those Carnies were up to no good.



In the "adult" entertainment realm, there was a wooden wave you could stand on and pay $10 to have some guy take your picture. I have seen "The Wave" at other fairs and I must say I just don't understand the appeal. Most often the people riding the wave are drunk ladies who are scantily clad to begin with, thinking they are provocatively displaying their hula abilities. Yup, nothin sexier than that.

Did I mention that the Italian fest was primarily white? Well, it was nothing compared to Retro on Roscoe. There was a complete lack of diversity. I am not sure what that says about white people and their choice of entertainment, but it was hard to miss.

Afterward, Matt and Kim turned 25! We had a great time celebrating them both. What awesome people.



In other news, I joined a Bikram (hot) yoga studio and it is kicking my ass. In my first class I thought I was going to faint or vomit or both. Hot yoga is a series of 26 poses performed over 90 minutes in a room that is 105 degrees Fahrenheit (some use 95 degrees) and 50% humidity. You literally pour sweat. People practice mostly naked and when you leave it looks like you just took a shower. It just doesn't smell as nice. Luckily the second class was better and after a month, I expect to be in a thoroughly zen mindset. I got a discount on my first month but after that's up I am seriously considering asking them if I can work around the studio in exchange for classes.

That's all for now! We meant to go to market days but we are just too tired. See you next week for the long- awaited Armenian Fest!

Taylor Street Festa Italiana

What: Taylor Street Festa Italiana
Where: Little Italy
How much: $8 suggested donation
How to get there: Damen bus #50

For the first time this summer, I did not pay the suggested donation. Upon parking the car, Bart and I checked our pockets, coming up with $8 total, only half of our suggested donation amount. Boldly, we approached the front station. "Um, we didn't know it was this much, we only have four dollars each..." I muttered. The attendant immediately said, "Oh that's ok, it's just a suggestion, anything you can give is appreciated." We gave her our half- fares and entered. And that's the end of me ever paying to get into the festivals. From now on, I'm just walking in.


The Taylor Street Festival was... Italian. Italian food, Italian people, Italian singing, Italian art, Italian memorabilia, little old Italian men. And Roman statues! I hear there was some entertainment with men dressed as Roman soldiers too, but somehow we missed it. Most of the food sounded delicious, however we were left cash-less. One of the most entertaining things I saw were the old ladies dancing to the band and later listening rapturously to Opera.

If you were so inclined, there were vendors selling shirts for everyone, such as the onesies proclaiming newborns "Italian Stallions" and the glittery camis for the "Italian Princess".

There was an unusually large police presence, although they didn't appear to be doing much. this gaggle of officers stood around talking for as long as I stood there to watch them. And the few black officers were the only people of color at the entire festival. Chicago is a very diverse city, but you wouldn't have known it from this fest. In all, a good time was had. After the fest we headed to Cleo's and had delicious Spinach and goat cheese pizza for dinner. So that's still Italian, right?
Stayed tuned for Retro on Roscoe!

Wicker Park Street Fest

What: Wicker Park Street Fest
Where: Wicker Park
How much: $5
How to get there: Bike :)

The first time I attended the Wicker Park Street Fest, it was 2002. I waited for four hours to be in the front row to see Phantom Planet. During their set, I hyperventilated, and smacked some little girl in the face with my wildly swinging ponytail. The lead guitarist cut his finger on his guitar string, bled on his pick, and threw it to me. My dad drilled a hole in it and I wore it around my neck for at least a year. Anytime you need to clone Alex from Phantom Planet, let me know.

This time, the atmosphere was very different. Wicker Park has grown up in the last eight years. This was apparent from the moment we entered the fest- young people were packed into the three blocks like sardines. I have never seen so many tattoos in my life. At one point I was standing next to an older couple and the man said, "I bet there is not a single woman here without a tattoo" and his wife replied, "Well, I'm here, remember?".

The bodies were packed slightly less densely around the food vendors, and Bart and I shared a Thai chicken wrap from Feast. Feast is a restaurant on Damen just north of the 6-way intersection at Damen, North, and Milwaukee. I've never been there to sit down but the wrap was delicious.

Speaking of delicious food (tangent alert), we tried Greek/Turkish restaurant Taxim on Milwaukee on Friday night. The food was delicious, our waiter was nice, and while we were eating al fresco, the Chicago Critical Mass rode by (some of them just in their skivvies). Excellent dinner entertainment. The hostess had to come out and yell, "Waiters, you have tables!".

Back to the street fest. The music was excellent, which is what I assume brought out such masses of twenty-somethings. Two stages of bands and one DJ stage kept everyone sufficiently entertained. The beer was relatively affordable, and there were some people walking around selling beer for cheap. If you want to bring your own beer to a streetfest, just tell the people working the gate that you live on that street (sometimes they ask for an address, so have one ready). This not only gets you into the festival for free, but you can bring your own drinks, because who are they to stop you from bringing your own beer home?

I saw two things at the Wicker Park Fest that I haven't seen elsewhere yet this summer; minigolf (see top picture) and the Lutheran Church. The latter had a booth set up for making bracelets and learning about the almighty. At the same time. There were also many booths that had been taken down by the time we made it there that clearly had been for children to make crafts. Unfortunately, I also saw a lot of families with small children. We're talking recently born, have no business at a loud drunken street fair children. Sigh.

All in all, certainly the most packed fair I've seen yet this summer, and also one of the more enjoyable. Nothing to say about the vendors except there were a few more bike-related ones than normal. Speaking of bikes, we recently moved to this neighborhood and I can ride my bike everywhere! I just can't carry it down the stairs, because it weighs about a hundred pounds. Time for a new bike.

In other news, today is Ollie's birthday. He is 5! What an old man. Happy bday, Obear. (you know, just in case he reads the blog)....

Ok! Check the metromix site for a list of next week's fests. I will be at Market Days on Friday night and Retro on Roscoe Saturday afternoon. Who's coming with me?

:(

Sorry guys, with the stress of moving and studying for this statistics final I didn't have a chance to make it to any festivals last weekend. My final is on Wednesday, and we are moving on Thursday, so after that I should have more time.

Next weekend there's the Lincoln Park Arts and Music Festival, Wicker Park Street Festival, Summer on Southport, Serbfest, Fiesta Del Sol, and the Chicago Luxury Ice Cream Social. I'll make it to what I can in between unpacking! See you there!

Chinatown Summer Fair

What: Chinatown Summer Fair
Where: Chinatown
How Much: Free!
How to get there: Red line to Cermak

Here's Nicole at the Chinatown Summer Fair! I lured her there with promises of a dragon parade (more about this later).

It was so refreshing to attend a fair that wasn't as cookie-cutter as the others I've been going to so far. More bazaar than street fest, you could buy pretty much anything you wanted. Sheets? Got 'em. Sweet visors with built in sunglasses and fans? Yup. Tiny red eared slider turtles climbing over one another in a desperate bid to escape? You betcha.


It is a miracle that I didn't come home with a turtle. I have a habit of impulsive pet buying. Like the tree frog I had to keep in my dorm room (along with the crickets it ate). Or the chinchilla I bought in a fog of grief after my hamster died. Or the dog I adopted without really knowing if I was allergic to it or not (thankfully that one turned out happily). I ended up buying a money tree instead.

The plants were one thing I haven't seen at a fair before. Lucky bamboo, money trees, something called a "mimosa" that moves when you touch it. And the bonsai. Oh, the bonsai. My attempts at Bonsai are far more ill fated than my impulsive pets. First, there was a Juniper bonsai named Quincey. He didn't survive freshman year. Then there was Richard, a much cheaper target bonsai who didn't survive winter break.
We even saw a carnivorous plant that looked like something from another planet.

Another novel item at the Chinatown summer fair was the extensive petting zoo. There were two ridiculously fluffy chickens, a duck, a goose, a mama potbelly pig and two little baby pigs (not as soft as they look, in case you were wondering). I am always faced with a moral dilemma about petting zoos. At the same time that I desperately want to pet the animals, I am also plagued with a sort of horror and disgust that they are made to stand in the heat for my enjoyment.

Walking around, I was struck by the number of people carrying umbrellas to ward off the sun. I jokingly asked Nicole why she didn't bring her umbrella. She said she actually had, because there was a chance of rain. Just then, thunder in the distance. The wind blew hard enough that I had to hold on to the tent next to me to keep it from blowing over. And then this happened.

The vendors were totally unprepared for such an event. Water decimated the flimsy tents set up over the random goods and soaked all of the cardboard boxes holding the extras. Nicole and I took refuge in a painting shop and watched the horror unfold. Luckily it was short lived and it was safe to venture out ten minutes later.

Throughout the fair, I lamented missing the "dragon parade" that was supposed to happen around noon. By the time we were ready to leave, around 2, I was sure it had happened on some other street. But as we approached the front gates, I heard the drums and saw the flash of dragon headpieces. We hadn't missed it after all! I eagerly lined up so as to have a front row seat. The dragons were ready and they came dancing towards me... and were instantly past. The huge, 10-person dragons I had imagined were actually about 4 feet long. But hey, the fair was free, so I am not complaining.


After the stunning parade, Nicole and I found an authentic restaurant at which to have lunch. While the menu boasted frog, rabbit, jellyfish, and hog's intestines, I stuck with sauteed veggies. And they were delicious.

Lots of festivals next week. Clark Street (I went last year, don't bother), Milwaukee Avenue Arts Fest, Backyard film and music festival, and taste of Lincoln Avenue. Don't forget about free Monday concerts at Millennium Park, Summerdance, or Movies in the Park either.

Ribfest in Uptown

What: Ribfest
Where: Uptown
How Much: $5
How to get there: Red line to Lawrence

I had no idea what I was in for when I set out for Ribfest in Uptown. The crowds were INSANE. Not being a consumer of pork products myself, I didn't anticipate the love of the masses for barbecue smothered flesh. The rib vendors were in hot competition and each was displaying their own trophies and intimidating signs. "I'm from Texas... what county are you from?"


After pushing our way through the lines for food, Bart and I perused the booths. I finally decided to take the plunge and plunked down the money for a henna tattoo. I'm contemplating eventually having a real tattoo on this arm (hi, mom!) so I wanted to see what it would look like to have something there for a bit. I chose a sweet phoenix and settled in. It only took 10-15 minutes to finish it, and lots of people crowded around while I was having it done. It took 30 minutes to dry and then I was supposed to leave the henna on for 6 hours. This meant leaving it on overnight. The instruction leaflet suggested wrapping it in plastic wrap, but I decided that wasn't going to be very comfortable and MacGyver'd up a sweet bandge made of Kotex pantyliners and bandaids. I really wish I had a picture. It didn't turn out nearly as dark as I would have liked it. I suppose I could go back and complain and ask them to do it again, but.... it's hot and I'm lazy.

I forgot to look before we left at who was playing that night, but it was Sister Hazel! And they played those two songs that everyone knows! You know, the ones that go... um... well, when they were actually playing the songs I knew all the words. And they sounded decent live. The crowd was so interesting, from the crazy lady with the coral lipstick and the horrendous blonde weave who searched though a bag for the flyer she wanted to give me for about 10 minutes before deciding she didn't have anymore to the crazy man giggling as he clutched three beers.
By 10 pm, the lines for food were starting to wane at every booth but "Texas Thunder". Demand for them stayed strong until the end of the night.
All in all, the Ribfest was a good time. I think it says a lot that even a non-pig eater such as myself had fun.
After the fest, we walked all the way home to Roger's Park and it was a beautiful walk. Interrupted only by a hot fudge sundae.