“Come on, give me a better one, that one doesn’t look fresh!”

“Lady, this is one of the best ones we got, take it or leave it!”

The lady stands her ground, pulling the granny cart besides her. She doesn’t care that she’s blocking the sidewalk. She wants her fish. “I said, that one doesn’t look fresh! Give me the one next to it. Let me see it.” The butcher sighs and shows her another fish. “Thanks, I’ll have that one.” She pays, puts it in her cart, and resumes her journey down Mott Street.

This street in Chinatown is known for their fresh markets, especially for seafood. It’s also known for it’s aggressive vibes. It ain’t no Citarella, but some of their products are just as fresh. It’s popular not just among the Asian community, but its customer base as also been expanding due to gentrification in the Lower East Side. Almost all day it would be impossible to walk from one end of the block to the other, for half the sidewalk is taken up by the stands and people shopping there.

A butcher is taking a break on a doorstep next to his shop, smoking a cigarette. His black rubber boots glisten in contrast with his work whites. A regular customer walks by and greets him. “Hey! How you been? What you got today, give me the freshest selection!” He flicks the cigarette onto the street.

“You already know everything we have is the best, come take a look!” He maneuvers through the crowd in front and disappears into the back of the shop.

Everyone is moving. Everyone is haggling. And for those who aren’t part of this scene, they’re just trying to walk from Hester St to Grand. Some are tourists, who grimace at the smell and wetness of the air. They’re bumping into locals and their granny carts. As they further down the block, you see their legs moving faster as if they need to escape this smelly fish hole.

Regardless, everyone is moving.