I spend my days at the hospital in Little Mogadishu. All week I have seen military helicopters buzzing around. I came home early to avoid the protests. Cops are everywhere.
Most of the shops in the area at that time looked like time got stuck in the 1960s and never left the hippie era.
And the flats were occupied by either college students (like myself), welfare section 8 types (who were, as often as not, (American) Indians), and Hmong.