The buildings and apartment houses that edge along the water belong to New York. So does the dirt. But there is more space here, room to breathe. The self-consciousness of Manhattan doesn't exist in Brighton Beach. Jammed up against the ocean, there's no place to rush to.
Slowness is a luxury.
I walk down to a string of restaurants and cafes that line the boardwalk. All the signs are in Russian. The outdoor tables are crowded with people eating and drinking. A number of the tables make it look like lunch has already lasted a couple of hours. I choose a table at Hirsche's Knishes.