QUE VIVA LA PULGA
By Carlos Velázquez
At 44 years old, I am now an old San Jonero. I know, 44 isn’t that old, but it’s enough years to realize I’m not young. Running after and keeping up with a 3-year-old baby shark doesn’t make it easier.
The moments when I feel most aware of my age, however, are when I talk about the San José of my youth. “I remember when that place was a….” or “there used to be a Chicano mural there.” I recall fondly when Music in the Park was free. I’m still in awe of the sight of over 100,000 marchers along E. Santa Clara Street one May Day. And of course, like many of my generation of San Joneros, I remember vividly my visits to La Pulga.
My family's visits to the Berryessa Flea Market, also known as La Pulga, were a Sunday holiday. They offered a break from what could have been a full day of yard work under the hot sun—a rare day off for my parents. A trip to La Pulga was not brief; we were there for the experience.
As we maneuvered through the crowds like a maze, I remember the rancheras blasting from each stall and the cucumber and watermelon spears sprinkled with lemon, salt, and chile. My pops would stop the roaming carts for a frothy, cold beer that I’m sure felt incredibly refreshing on a hot day, providing a chance to forget the pressures of raising a family of seven on a tailor’s salary. If I were a good Carlitos, I would be sporting a new digital LCD watch, adorned with a He-Man, Transformer, or Voltron design.
These memories are etched into my heart and soul from 35 to 40 years ago. At that time, I lost so much: those watches, my pops, and one day, without action and advocacy, La Pulga.
A recent city study confirmed La Pulga’s status as the largest, densest cluster of independent, small, and micro-businesses in the South Bay, boasting over 450 independent small businesses. It provides over 1,000 jobs for a largely immigrant community and has financed homes and college educations. In true Silicon Valley fashion, it has become an incubator for entrepreneurs, serving as the launching point for Shoe Palace, Calderon’s Tires, and even the iconic Eastside Stories oldies compilations.
Despite its iconic status, La Pulga faces the threat of closure, as housing and commercial spaces are planned for the site. An exact closure date remains uncertain, but a struggling post-pandemic commercial real estate market may extend the timeline. A relocation of the market is still a possibility. While this may sound promising, an unclear future has taken its toll on La Pulga’s business community. How can they plan for the future with their livelihoods at stake?
As I grow older, I see that things never stay the same. For us San Joneros, we notice the impact of high housing costs and extreme economic disparities on our city, leading to the displacement of generations of loved ones. We lament the loss of a San José past. But the soul of the city lives on; this is still a Chicano town, but also a Vietnamese town, a town of immigrants, a working-class city, and an unpretentious city.
I’ve also grown to learn the importance of being present. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. I still take my mom and family to the Pulga. I love watching my Tiburon run around and having him dig through boxes for toy gems. I can greet Jimmy at Time Warp. I can stretch my dollar by purchasing used items and local produce. The adjoining Garden at the Flea also provides event space for a new generation of curators.
As long as La Pulga is still here, I will fight for it and enjoy it. I invite you to do the same.
Que viva La Pulga, the soul of San José!
