Do you ever dream of visiting India? Basking in the aromatics of saffron, gazing upon the majestic Taj Mahal, and absorbing the cacophony of languages and street vendors, but lack the rupees to do so? How about Pakistan? Sip bountiful quantities of chai, feast on succulent stewed goat, and uncover the friendliness and generosity of those branded members of the so-called “axis of evil” but a decade ago? Fear not. You don’t need to overcome endless bureaucracy for a visa or panic over yet another overblown travel advisory warning; all that’s necessary comes via the 49B bus or a car. Welcome to Devon Avenue.
The name “Devon” brings to mind perhaps a drab, listless street ransacked of activity save the occasional bar or restaurant. The reality couldn’t be further from that baseless observation. 11 miles (18 kilometers) from the Loop in the neighborhood of Rogers Park calls this shock to the senses home. The street is just a small sample of the 82 languages spoken in said neighborhood. Polyglots and linguists rejoice. Anyone expecting the pleasantries of yet another Starbucks, Gino’s, or Portillo’s will be sorely disappointed.
We start the journey on the Far East side, dropping by Devon Market. If you’re in the mood for some ex-Soviet bloc libations, you’ve come to the right place, comrade. Beer, wine, and a plum brandy called a derivation of Slivovitz reign supreme. Every spirit is equally tasty, but some are tastier than the others. Nearby, Little Lagos Market and La Unica Food Mart offer your choice of Nigerian and Colombian options, without the need to be stuck in bumper-to-bumper driving or deal with para-military groups. Order all the goat, egusi, and arepas desired and avoid any of the corruption or oil wealth.
Moving on, get back in the car or the 49B bus, and drive 1-2 miles and prepare your native-english tongue to be of the minority. One such stop is Ghareeb Nawaz, or helper of the poor, in Urdu. Inside, it resembles a cafeteria, with substantial portions of Biryani, Aloo Masala, and Daal heaped onto platters and churned out quicker than Devon Hester returning a punt. However, this establishment is frequented by a diverse group of families, imams, immigrants, and foodies alike. A mix of astronomically low prices given the quantity and a sense of community gives Ghareeb a welcoming air. This is sensed especially when sharing a table with an elderly Pakistani, a Chechen family, and yours truly. It was quite the blend of cultures, languages, rice, spices, and sounds from the kitchen. Here, you’ll hear Urdu, Hindi, and other regional Indian languages.
Our next stop is to disembark from the selected mode of transit and switch to a trusty compatriot – your own two feet. Here, act like the early settlers, and head West. We’re not on the Magnificent Mile anymore. Devon is home to numerous grocery stores, bakeries, local markets, cell phone shops, and travel agencies with a twist. It would be a more herculean task to list each business than getting India and Pakistan to come to terms over Kashmir. Leave all pre-conceptions and empty stomachs at the door and enter a world that would not look out of place on the streets of Lahore, minus the traffic. It’s a naan question.
When you’ve grown disillusioned with trying to decipher the various names written in Hindi, Urdu, and Arabic, head on over to Argo Georgian Bakery. Named after the Argonauts, who searched for the Golden Fleece in Colchis, thought today to be Northwest Georgia, Argo provides a difference sense arousal. Russian, Georgian, and Ukrainian are all present here. Order the Khachapuri, a flaky cheese pastry, and absorb the memorabilia and display from a country many may not know existed, let alone able to find on a map. There is also a small grocery available, so you can purchase adjika, a red pepper condiment from the Caucasus, to make your dishes just like your babushka did. Just don’t attempt to dance Lezginka. This establishment adds Russian and Georgian to the mix, diversion from the Latin alphabet and increasing our language total. Na zdrovye.
Continue wandering the streets and one will see more Salwars than sweatshirts, headscarves than Hollister, perhaps an abaya, and traditional wedding gowns that put the tuxedo to shame in glamour. Devon is a complete parallel to the masses inhabiting the Loop and nearby areas. Be prepared for spice, heat, unpronounceable dishes, befuddlement with every script, and a sensual feast that stretches the length of Asia. You’ll ask, is that Arabic? Hindi? Urdu? Bengali? What on earth is garam masala? Why is this tea pink? And why am I so enthralled with the surroundings?
To the very West, a small Middle Eastern section holds court. The phenomenal Taza Bakery sits atop the throne and instead of patronage, provides fresh zaatar, shawarma, baklava, and falafel. Enjoy Iraqi pop as well as the employees pumping out fresh bread and yelling amongst themselves in their Mesopotamian Arabic dialect. It’s as if the boisterous Italian family restaurant was shipped off to the Islamic world. Continue to not understand anything said or written in the languages above and enjoy. Order a tea and enjoy the locations, inshallah.
Make no mistake, Devon is a surreal locale. Encompassing bits of South Asia, Eurasia, the Middle East, and Africa, this long strip of road is home to a cultural experience not easily replicated in the Windy City. In addition to its numerous cuisines and languages, the people-watching opportunities are top-notch. In an ever-globalizing world, it becomes more important than ever to understand our international brethren. Regardless of one’s nationality, we’re all inhabitants of the globe and should strive to understand each other’s cultures, sensitivities, and palates. As a result, Devon is an excellent place to witness a blending of cultures and histories to create a whirlwind of diversity. Wake up and smell the cumin, stroll the streets and meet its inhabitants. Just don’t expect to find frappachinos, deep dish, and Italian beef.
Dispatches by Alec 