Until August of 2004, I have lived in the Deep South my entire life. I was born in Macon, MS, a town comprised of about 2,500 people, I went to high school in Columbus,MS, a city of about 35,000, and I went to college in Huntsville, AL, a city of about 158,000.
I was not accustomed to living in big cities, with big traffic and high crime, but also with museums, free libraries, good restaurants and a diverse populace that I could experience for the first time.
But, I've always known that I would not spend my life in the South. I love the South, don't get me wrong. The food is sublime, places like New Orleans and Beale Street in Memphis are unparalleled in their charm, and the people can envelop you like a warm embrace, such is their hospitality.
But, there is also the racism, the ignorance of things not understood, the sub-standard education, the poverty and the small-town mentality (even in a big town) that people think affords them the right to judge everyone else, and those are the parts of the South I was happy to leave.
So, I got a job with Grassroots Campaigns Inc. to help elect John Kerry, and I was placed in Philadelphia, PA, where I knew no one except for my soon-to-be co-workers, and that was only via phone, and I began the business of packing my entire life into my car, leaving a job that I had been with for almost four years and leaving behind my family and all the friends that had been my constant source of support.
It was hard. I was so freaked out by the speed with which I had to accomplish so much, I didn't have much time to get truly upset, for which I am thankful.
Flash forward to my mother and I driving 20 hours to Philadelphia, with my car packed to the brim with everything that I now own. I had to get rid of countless clothes and shoes, my fairly new DVD player and my own personal bowling ball and shoes (which really hurt), but I rationalized that I couldn't have all of my stuff weighing me down should I have to move again in a hurry because of the election.
So, I found an apartment relatively quickly and set about the actual business of getting myself in and out of the city for work.
This is where the real fun begins. Philadelphia traffic is insane. Anyone who's driven here knows that, but imagine if you have never driven in real traffic in your life and suddenly you are it for getting yourself anywhere. Wow.
My favorite experience in traffic would have to be the cab driver that I accidentally cut off in a roundabout when I realized I needed to be in a different lane. He motioned for me to roll my window down, and like a total dumbass, I did. I said, "Yes?" He yelled, "Go back to fucking Mississippi! You cut me off!" I was horrified that not only did he impugn my driving skills, but my state as well, and my clever, shocked response was, "That was mean!" That Gaither wit triumphs again.
My first three weeks of work, I got lost every other day. I ended up in Chinatown a lot, which is a cool area, but when I'm late for work, and all the shop signs are in Chinese, it does not bode well for how my day will go.
I spent about five weeks feeling completely out of my depth all the time. I never knew where I was going or really how I would get there. Parking was a nightmare, I had my car towed once, and I've received about seven tickets.
But eventually, I began to find my way and recognize familiar areas, I started to feel like the city wasn't out to crush me, and I noticed myself feeling a kinship with Philadelphia.
It was around that time I decided to stay here and see what I could do after the election, because as much as I miss people back in the South, I knew that my sense of accomplishment was not yet satisfied.
I will end this by saying, I am still massively homesick. The snow and freezing ass temperatures have not helped this feeling much at all. I wish I could hop in my car and drive to Bourbon Street or to the Gulf of Mexico just to watch the sunset and walk down one of the piers on Orange Beach.
But I have met people here who make it easier and easier to brave the cold in the air and the feelings I sometimes have that make it seem as though I am in a holding pattern and way out of my league, and they make me laugh and get me drunk, and there's not a thing wrong with that.
In addition, I have a support system of family and amazing friends that peel me off the ceiling when I'm freaking out as well.
I don't know what I would do without any of you. Thank you.
No comments:
Post a Comment