The 23rd Annual Laurel Street Fair & World Music Festival
MacArthur Blvd at 35th Avenue
Oakland
Aug. 10, 2024
Every August, eight blocks of Oakland’s Laurel District becomes the locus of eyes, ears, noses, mouths, and wandering feet for the annual Laurel Street Fair & World Music Festival. People’s senses are stimulated by the celebratory energy outdoor summertime fiestas give. Street Fairs make folks happy and loose. When the weather’s good the joie de vivre possesses an even merrier vibe. And the weather wasn’t only sunny on for this 23rd edition of the festivities, it was hot: my partner and I were ready for a thirst quenching beverage before we even passed under the Laurel Gateway Arch at MacArthur Boulevard and 35th Avenue.
The long array of booths offered a variety of options. But beer would make us feel bloaty and even thirstier; horchata might be a bit on the creamy side for the weather; and soda’s too sugary sweet.
Then we spotted a booth with the perfect potable, Pitayas Locas, serving up every kind of agua fresca in the fruit rainbow — guava, coconut, peach, watermelon, cucumber, jamaica (hibiscus flower), mango, strawberry, prickly pear, pitaya (dragon fruit), and what seemed like a hundred other flavors. Plus a plethora of fresh sliced fruit cups rimmed and drizzled like micheladas; big bags of duros ready to be dressed to order; and other sweet-and-savory confections designed for the spice lover’s palate.
My partner got the passionfruit (too sweet for me). I opted for the pineapple lemonade which came with nice little wedges of fresh pineapple, their bits of pulp augmenting the agua fresca’s taste and texture. We’d ordered the “small” size, but even those cups were huge — enough to slake our parched throats and keep us sipping for the rest of the afternoon as we wandered the festival.
Now we needed to eat. I was enamored by the delicious-looking weiners at Uncle Mike’s Giant Bad A$$ Sausages (pictured at top), but my partner wanted a gyro. She’d been denied one at the Oakland Greek Festival in May— so she ordered from the Halal Bites of Chicago food truck. The big pita was stuffed with perfectly grilled chicken and dressed with tasty house sauce and a salad. Delish.
While we ate under the shade of the table’s wide umbrella, we listened to the Cuban hiphop and salsa tunes of Dos Four. The crowds soon began moving their bodies on the large dance floor in front of the stage. At one point frontman Leyder Chapman introduced his daughter, Amara, who sang a lively and very cute song about eating her vegetables and fruits. We sang that song to one another for the rest of the day (“…I eat my vegetables, I eat my fruit…”)
A little farther up the teeming boulevard I noticed people going in and out of the Last Ones storefront. Those doors aren’t often open, so of course we had to go inside. I reviewed of the collective’s mural on Maybelle Avenue last December and was pleased to see one of the co-founders there, a great guy I’d dubbed “Sage” out of respect for his wish for anonymity. Although he’d not allowed me to use his name or image during our interview last year, he let me take a photo of him this time, his face partially obscured by his hands. It was good to see “Sage” again, and he was in just as jolly a spirit as anyone else at the street fair.
By the time we got home — our neighborhood, the Dimond District, is adjacent to the Laurel District — we were flagged. But the good kind of fatigue; rather like the way one feels as a kid after a long day of fun play.
And the refrain from that song kept running through our heads and into the next day: “I eat my vegetables, I eat my fruit…” An excellent ear-worm!
