Life in the Ironbound was everything I expected it to be and more – for better and worse. From the first moment I stepped foot into my new apartment, I savored the aroma of fresh bread and BBQ chicken in the air, the building’s Spanish-style façade with an azulejo tile of Saint Joseph fixed into it, and the sound of music playing from cars and open windows. I didn’t have to walk far to find coffee shops offering reasonably priced café con leche, empanadas, galão, pão de queijo, and pasteis de natas, which patrons would sip and munch while seated outside, casually chatting and smoking cigarettes with other locals.

Yet life in the neighborhood wasn’t as glamorous as I had thought it would be.