Wednesday, October 12, 2022 — 7
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
S T A T E M E N T
CHEN LYU
Statement Contributor
Ethnic businesses transformed Ann Arbor strip malls into cultural meccas
Rediscovering Ann Arbor
HALEY JOHNSON
Statement Correspondent
(ABOVE) Aladdin’s Market sits on a corner of the Packard/Platt mall.
KEITH MELONG/Daily
RILEY NIEBOER/Daily
(ABOVE) The Songbird Cafe at the Plymouth Road Mall.
(ABOVE) The Golam Meat Market nestled in the Packard/Platt strip mall.
KEITH MELONG/Daily
(ABOVE) Runners and dog walkers pass on a border-to-border trail segment along the Huron River Sunday, October 9.
(ABOVE) Patrons eat and relax at the Big City Small World Bakery at
the corner of Miller Avenue and Spring Street.
JEREMY WEINE/Daily
JEREMY WEINE/Daily
I fell back in love with Ann
Arbor, unintentionally, on a run.
I was training for an upcoming
half-marathon, and I ventured
farther and farther away from
campus to get in my miles, seeing
my endurance improve gradually.
As the seconds on my stopwatch
clicked upward, the familiar sights
of the Diag, Nichols Arboretum and
Kerrytown slowly morphed into
quiet residential streets and shaded
trails along the banks of the Huron
River.
I never expected Ann Arbor, or
rather, the 3,000-some acres that
make up the University campus, to
feel dull. My mother and sister are
alumnae; growing up, they’d tell
me how they missed the campus’s
indescribable energy. I was entering
my senior year of high school, and
despite having told everyone I
wanted to go to Michigan for years,
I had never been to campus. I lived
five hours north in a quiet tourist
town on the shore of Lake Michigan
and thought every day about how
excited I was to leave. Ann Arbor
was the antithesis of my hometown:
It was young, vibrant and alive.
But at some point after I had
matriculated, the magic began to
fade. I can’t exactly pinpoint when,
but I think it happened while I
was living in the Bay Area over the
summer for an internship. Coming
to California, I felt my whole world
open up again. Everything about
Ann Arbor that invigorated me —
the natural beauty, the liveliness,
the local charm — was amplified
by a thousand in San Francisco.
Returning to Michigan in some
ways felt regressive, like there
wasn’t anything new waiting for
me here. I was entering my senior
year and resigned myself to biding
my time until I could move on to the
next thing.
***
The University’s Central Campus
is only 85 acres, but it casts an
outsized shadow on the rest of the
town. Residents of Ann Arbor have
long complained about the “town-
gown” divide, and the University’s
blatant disregard for the city’s
political
authority.
Students
who grew up in Ann Arbor have
described the University as being
a completely different side of the
city, with its own distinct culture
and feel. Despite this separation,
students still manage to encroach
on townie life. It only occasionally
bubbles to the surface in public
ways, like at city council meetings,
but if you look closely, you’ll see
plenty of complaints and jokes about
students on social media.
The
town-gown
relationship
isn’t completely adversarial. The
University does work with the
city; both have a vested interest in
maintaining Ann Arbor’s status as
one of the best college towns in the
country and one of the best places to
live. Still, these goals seem at odds.
College students are, by nature,
transient. A good place to live for
four years in your 20s is different
from a good place to put down
roots and raise a family. I always
understood why Ann Arbor was a
great college town, that was obvious
enough. But I sometimes wondered
what made this city different from
the other upscale, mid-sized cities
across the country.
***
I started running farther and
farther away from campus out of
necessity. I had to increase the
length of my long run each week.
Eight miles became 10 and then 12.
I slowly edged deeper and deeper
into the neighborhoods surrounding
campus, like Bach, Water Hill and
Barton Pond, before I found myself
in wholly unfamiliar territory. I
like to think that, even before I
dove into marathon training, I got
off campus more than the average
student, albeit mostly because I
had a car. I was a regular at a bagel
place down on Washtenaw Avenue,
often ventured out to the city’s parks
and trails and would occasionally
drive to Ypsilanti so I could go out
for dinner without seeing everyone
I knew. This certainly wasn’t all
there was to Ann Arbor and its
surrounding areas, but I thought I
had seen a fair amount.
Now, I’m convinced the best way
to discover Ann Arbor is on foot.
My main running route circled
through Kerrytown before getting
on the border-to-border trail, a
35-mile pathway that connects one
end of Washtenaw County to the
another. I’d make a loop around
Gallup Park and continue on the
trail before turning around near
Washtenaw Community College.
Other times I’d head through the
Old West Side neighborhood or east
on Geddes Avenue, far past the Arb
or frat row.
On these runs, I began to see
Ann Arbor with fresh eyes again.
Intuitively, I knew there was more to
campus; I wasn’t so self-absorbed as
to think that people didn’t actually
live in town. For the most part,
however, my existence in Ann Arbor
has been constricted to the one-mile
radius around wherever I was living
at the time. I’d drive to Meijer and
Trader Joe’s and Briarwood every
now and then like most students do,
but I never took the scenic route or
made any detours.
Running allowed a certain level
of serendipity that driving didn’t. I
was free to jog down any side street
that caught my eye or circle around
the block to catch a second look at
one of the gorgeous old homes in the
Old West Side. I could stop to pet a
dog or read a sign tacked to a street
post or get out my phone to figure
out where on earth I was. I had lived
in Ann Arbor for 3 years, but every
run taught me something new about
this place.
Despite
my
commitment
to
exploring beyond the cushy areas of
campus, many of my favorite places
to run were in the Old West Side
and Burns Park, two of the most
affluent neighborhoods in the area.
While most students don’t regularly
venture out to these areas, they were
still within walking (or in my case,
running) distance to campus.
If you don’t look closely, campus
can
feel
homogenous,
only
displaying the particular kind of
lifestyle maintained by wealthy
students: M Den merchandise,
SoulCycle
classes,
Aventura
tapas and riverside dinners at the
Gandy Dancer. I wondered if I had
inadvertently replicated the same
phenomenon during my training —
was I focusing on the shiny, wealthy
surface of the city and missing a
much realer and more nuanced
picture of what Ann Arbor was like?
When I eventually returned to
my apartment in Kerrytown at
the end of each run, I updated my
mental map of the city. I began
to see how my small corner of
campus was connected to the rest of
Washtenaw County through trails
and elementary schools and yard
signs and fliers and all sorts of subtle
markers.
***
Recent U-M alum Justin Yuan
moved to Pittsfield Township,
located south of Ann Arbor in
Washtenaw County, during his
third year at U-M and has continued
living there post-graduation.
“It’s honestly super nice,” Yuan
said of Pittsfield township. “It’s
a new area, there’s a lot of stuff
nearby, and I can spend more time
in Ypsilanti, which is just beautiful.
It’s less crowded but there’s still tons
of people and it’s less expensive.”
Yuan admitted that he’d come to
appreciate
Ann
Arbor proper and
the
downtown
area more since
moving
farther
away.
But
it’s
not
so
easy
to
disentangle
my
idyllic vision of
Ann Arbor from its wealth. Many of
the features that make the city such
a great place to live are supported
by its affluent taxpayer base, like
its well-kept parks and accessible
public transportation. It’s the hidden
subtext to every Ann Arbor ranks
among best places to live headline.
The award-winning public schools,
fantastic library system, gorgeous
parks and beautiful neighborhoods
can be yours, but only if you can
afford it.
When it comes to building
community and organizing for a
better Ann Arbor, the city’s ultra-
affluence can be a challenge.
“A lot of organizing is seeing the
invisible people,” said Yuan. “And
not invisible by their own design, but
just by the reality of how people are
forced to live, especially in a more
expensive area, like in Ann Arbor.”
Yuan, who now works full-time
as an organizer with the Huron
Valley Workers Organizing and
Research Center, cited how many
low-wage workers are pushed out of
Ann Arbor by high rent prices. This
geographic dispersion, combined
with long commutes on top of work,
can make it difficult for residents
to see their common struggles or
organize.
Building real community and
making Ann Arbor a great place
to live for everyone — not just for
wealthy
townies
and
students
— takes work. Recognizing that
there are communities beyond the
University and that Ann Arbor is
home to diverse people, many of
whom are invisible to us, is the first
step.
On a romantic level, I do think
there is something special about
Ann Arbor. It’s some combination of
Midwestern friendliness, thriving
cultural institutions, walkability
and beautiful scenery. Ann Arbor
will never be able to compete with a
major city, but it doesn’t need to.
There’s so much more waiting to
be discovered if you’re just willing to
step off campus.
Statement Correspondent Haley
Johnson can be reached at haleyej@
umich.edu.
In late August, I learned that
an old friend with whom I had
lost contact was coming to visit
the University of Michigan. When
thinking of a place to meet, a
common friend and I blurted out
the same answer simultaneously:
“the Northside Plymouth Road
Mall!” The area, which houses a
host of Chinese businesses, from
grocery stores and restaurants
to entertainment, has long been
colloquially referred to as “A2
Chinatown”
among
some
of
my
Chinese
classmates.
For
me, meeting there is not just an
excursion, but a homecoming.
As
an
international
student, I am
intrinsically
fascinated
by
ethnic
businesses
that provide
a
window
for
cultural
exchange.
I was even
more excited when I learned
that these businesses have been
integrated into their neighborhoods,
creating a pocket of quaintness
unlike other suburban strip malls
that are dominated by national
chains.
Think
the
Lululemon,
Madewell, Anthropologie combo
nestled in Arbor Hills Shopping
Center.
In an effort to uncover the
business and community stories,
I set out to interview some of the
business owners and neighbors who
generously invited me into their
time machines.
Packard/Platt:
The
second
generations who carry on the
family heritages
In a small section at Packard/
Platt intersection, there is a strip
mall
hosting
Korean,
Indian,
Middle Eastern and East European
grocery
stores,
tightly
packed
within a line-up of other ethnic
businesses — a place that was once
dubbed “The United Nations at the
intersection of Packard Street and
Platt Road.”
When I first entered the Korean
Grocery Galleria Market on a
Saturday afternoon, Jason Bang,
the manager, had already been
standing behind the counter for
six hours. For years, Jason and his
mom have been the fixture of this
mid-sized market and assume the
full responsibility of stocking the
market, organizing the carts and
greeting the customers.
However, long hours didn’t wear
down Bang’s energy; he engaged
with each customer checking out,
conversing about topics ranging
from recipe recommendation to
politics.
“I do enjoy working — every day
is a different challenge,” Bang said.
“Every day you get to meet different
people who are either a very
interesting person or kind of weird.”
Bang’s past work experience
doesn’t always feature this rigid
schedule. When his father, Hyun
Bang, was first
operating this
store,
Jason
was working
in
South
Korea. Gradually, he found himself
straddled between two countries,
helping out the family business here
while maintaining freelance jobs in
South Korea. Jason ended up taking
over the store. He was transparent
in expressing what needs to change,
namely more active food culture
education here in Ann Arbor.
“There are social media feeds
and YouTube videos that tell us
different interesting things that
people can try,” Jason said. “But one
thing that is continuously recurring
is that there isn’t enough education
... I always tried to introduce a little
history behind things and explain
why certain recipes might work
better with these things.”
In Jason’s store, there are
popular Korean items like kimchi
and bulgogi as well as new items
announced through the store’s
social media feeds. The store also
features a significant selection
of Japanese cooking ingredients
and snacks, like mochi and Yakult.
Jason attributed this to the strong
crossover between the two cuisine
cultures.
“There are many popular Korean
snacks that have their Japanese
counterparts, and vice versa,” Jason
said. “Cooking-wise there’s a lot of
overlap between Korea and Japan.
Even in Ann Arbor, some successful
Japanese
restaurants
are
also
managed by Koreans.”
Across the street sits a family-
owned Mexican eatery, TMAZ
Taqueria. Similar to restaurants
found in southwest Detroit, TMAZ
takes the name from the owners’
city
of
origin,
bringing
their
hometown culture to Ann Arbor.
Kevin
Hervert-Trinidad,
who took over the restaurant’s
operations
(together
with
his
brother Josue Hervert-Trinidad)
from his parents so that they
could focus on their new Westside
branch. Kevin explained how his
hometown culture guided TMAZ’s
restaurant practices in order to
distinguish themselves from fast-
food chains downtown.
“We are from the Temascalcingo
region of Mexico, so we abbreviate
it to TMAZ,” Kevin said. “Our food
is different because it’s mainly just
from our local area.”
Kevin acknowledged how this
strip at Packard and Platt attracted
a portfolio of diverse immigrant-
owned businesses over time. The
caring nature of the late owner of
the property became an anchor
for immigrant businesses strained
by financial challenges and fast-
growing rent elsewhere.
“We were first introduced here
by an associate we were working
with at Taco King, and we later
sold it because at that time the
rent was super high,” Kevin said.
“The owners of this strip were
phenomenal people who would take
care of us, and the rent was nice.”
Multiple residents have pointed
me to the connection between
neighborhood
demographics
and
business
profiles.
The
high concentration of housing
voucher programs has introduced
socioeconomic diversity to the area.
The diversity of the businesses
in turn provides ethnic minority
groups a sense of connection and
belonging.
Speaking
about
Aladdin’s
Market, a Middle Eastern grocery
store, long-term resident Mojdeh
Meghnot,
who
is
of
Persian
heritage, is full of gratitude. It is
here that she found a community of
Iranian regulars and a caring store
owner who is willing to go out of his
way to help people.
“I go there often to buy Persian
herbs and cookies and things like
that, and also I really really like
their Bulgarian cheese,” Meghnot
said. “(The owner) has pretty much
any kind of flavor I need, and every
time I ask him for a new product
that he doesn’t have in the store, he
tries to get it for me … He treats us
like family.”
Plymouth Road Mall: The
Asian
culture
melting
pot
created by U-M graduates
At Plymouth Mall, a two-story
strip that stands at the northeast
corner of Plymouth Road, six
Chinese businesses, two Indian
and one Korean bakery pack
the perimeter. The mall carries
deep ties with the University as
well. Many founders or owners
of these businesses — including
Way 1 Chinese Market, Curry
Up, Songbird Cafe and Midnight
Karaoke — had either worked or
studied at the University before
owning their businesses.
Jenny
Song,
the
owner
of
Songbird Cafe, is a “super townie.”
She grew up in a Korean immigrant
family on the Northside of Ann
Arbor,
attended
Huron
High
School and moved on to study at
the University. The experiential
knowledge made Song believe this
area on the Northside was ripe for a
community cafe.
“We are a locally-owned business
that has a focus on community,”
Song said. “When you walk in,
you can tell from your seating or
dining experience that it’s not too
formal. I just knew that this type of
environment would do really well
on the Northside, because before
we started, which was 11 years ago,
there were mostly big chains and
corporate types of food service.”
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