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WHEN I TELL people I am from East Oakland two things come to their minds; the Oakland Raiders and the ghetto. Yes, the Raiders are awesome (so are the A's) and there are some parts of East Oakland where I would not be caught dead after dark alone. It is not all like that however. My neighborhood is a prime example. At a quick glance it looks like it is in the ghetto (it's more on the edge). There are no sidewalks, every other house has a couch on the porch, a lot of people park their good "rides" on their lawn and tennis shoes hang from power lines. I've actually seen someone shot, and there is the constant howl of whistle tips.

There are many different types of people in my neighborhood: Asians, African Americans, Latinos and gays. That is what raises Oakland above many other cities, the diversity.

Every once in a while during the winter my neighborhood smells toxic. That usually means one thing, it's a Tongan Holiday and we'll be having roasted pig for lunch and dinner. A couple blocks north of my house, a plume of smoke is rising from the back yard of my Tongan neighbors. I knock on their door and my good friend Fred answers. Fred went to school with me from first grade until I switched schools in seventh. We go through the house into the back yard. Fred and his brothers have dug up the whole area into one huge pit. In the pit there is tons of wood and anything else that can burn. That is the reason for the horrendous smell. They never have enough wood to burn so things like cardboard, roof tiles and even old bed sheets are thrown in to get the fire hot enough. Lying across the pit are four 20-foot metal poles with four full grown pigs on each. I feel bad for the pigs but right before we eat there is always a Tongan prayer that expresses their respect for the animals they consume. By midday every kid has caught whiff of the shindig and ends up at Fred's for some of the best pork barbecue in Oakland.

# posted by Medical Information : 4:17 AM