Watery Maze of Death

So I decided on my way north to Scranton, PA, I would go creepy stalk the Amish as I've had a strange obsession with them as long as I can remember. I had two choices:

a. Proceed quickly north to avoid possible closed roads and flood damage.
or
b. Ignore warnings and move into the side roads in hope of spotting the Amish in their own turf.

The correct answer was a.
I chose b.

I stopped at a town right next to the river and watched the water overtake a park. Deciding maybe it was a good idea to move more inland and uphill, I turned northeast on side roads. It would have been so much better if all the roads would have just been dead ends due to flooding, but I was driving around AS the river and creek water was rapidly rising, spilling over banks and overwhelming the sewer systems. It was sort of like a nightmare because I would start driving down a side road, really not knowing where I was or where I was going, then the water would start spilling out from the right, covering the road.

I would make a U turn and try another. After 5 hours of repeating this process and continuing to watch the roads wash out before my eyes and in a couple of instances trapping me between flooded roads, I decided to stay in the ghetto town of Lebanon. This was the town I least wanted to be in, but the 7 exits out were all flooded and closed. So I stayed at a Quality Inn parking lot to see if it would be any better the next morning.

Today was the first day I washed my hair in a Dunkin Donuts bathroom. I thought I had no shame before but the disgusted look on the old couple's faces when they saw me emerge from the ladies' room with a towel around my hair and a shower caddy in my hands, I realized I think I have hit an all time low. Worse than the make-shift showers in my bikini outside rest stop bathrooms or brushing my teeth from a public fountain. I probably shouldn't be putting this in writing either.

So, all in all I'm ok. I'm heading towards more flood damage in New York but the waters have begun to recede.

Oh yeah, and after all that effort, I never saw one Amish person.

Goodbye, Dixieland

Keepin' it classy, Tennesee:

The overwhelming heat of the south broke in the matter of a few minutes while I was in Cincinnati. My friend commented, "Oh, there's no way it can rain *that* long." It hasn't stopped raining since Sunday (and it's now Thursday). Silly Phil. I've learned better than to make statements like that. However, the rain and cool weather is a much welcomed change from the stifling heat that kept me from good sleep. Last night I passed out at a rest stop for 10 hours straight.

I've been pondering my experiences in Appalachia since I left yesterday. I drove for 12 hours thinking about what to write and how to describe the people I met along the way. The best I can come up with is I just didn't have enough time. Two days getting inside information from people that have lived in Appalachia for fifteen years and 3 hours with some locals is not nearly enough time to get a real feel for the area and the culture. I really regret having had to leave so early.

How did I meet the people that I stayed with? Well, by knocking on their front door and introducing myself! Rather, they were family friends with a girl that I had met and stayed at her house in Arkansas. She told me about what they did and I was fascinated and immediately trusted them. After all, they were missionaries in the deaf community in east Africa. As my boyfriend put it, you can't get any more noble than working in deaf orphanages in third world countries. Even so, when I arrived shortly before dark, miles from the nearest sizable town and up a windy mountain road in the pouring rain, I did wonder....what was I thinking?? My view from the car: My aunt warned: Banjos: ok. Toothless men: Ok. Banjos and toothless men= RUN AWAY. The couple, however, ended up (of course) being incredibly kind, fun, and full of knowledge. We spent hours discussing cultures and poverty and all that deep stuff we boring people talk about. Yes, I even think I said, "Well, I was listening to NPR and..." Gross. I promised myself I would never do that.

The lady of the house and I drove to a small event called Girl Talk which is sort of like an all-girl youth group meeting. A lot of girls who come from hard life backgrounds will have a very tough attitude and wonder, "What do YOU want?" But these high school aged girls were extremely open and friendly and welcoming. I genuinely had a good time chatting with them and listening to their stories. At the end of the night, we gave the girls a ride home and I realized what kind of lives they had to go back to. The first girl lived miles from the last street light to a trailer out in the middle of nowhere. We did this drive in the dark...believe me I was praying the car worked fine and no creepy strangers walked out in the middle of the road. Although the next girl was shy and quiet, she really perked up when she talked about wanting to be a vet and how she liked math. I tried my best to let her know that it was an excellent idea and she seemed to think, hey, cool, someone else thinks it's a good idea. Yet sure enough, we dropped her off back to a trailer filled with drugs, an angry father, and a boyfriend 9 YEARS her senior. In a culture where you don't rise above your peers or your family as it's seen as prideful, I seriously hope she'll graduate from high school. If the young poor in communities that don't value rising above the flock don't succeed, can you really blame them? Again, how LUCKY I was to be born in the family I was with the money and education to at least have a springboard to go where I want.

Does everyone in Appalachia do meth, live in a trailer, and hope for a welfare check? Absolutely not. One thing I found really neat about the culture is those who work hard and teach their children to earn an honest living are content with less. A 1000 sq ft house is a blessing and why would a person need more?

Yesterday I drove through the rest of Tennessee and Virginia admiring the beauty of the Appalachians, the rolling hills, and the deciduous trees beginning their fall cycle. Last night was at a rest stop because I thought the idea of staying overnight in a place called Gore would be a little unsafe.

Gore, VA is an unincorporated town in northwest Virginia, just minutes from West Virginia. This is by far the smallest town I have been to yet. Because of this, I was worried on how the residents would respond to me. It turns out, they were the most open and friendly so far! There was no awkward stage where I tried to get to know a local to get an in with the other townspeople. Everyone greeted me with a smile and was eager to help out a stranger. One man even paid for my coffee and muffin, then bought me lunch (which I used for lunch AND dinner). I guess this amazes me so much because I was figuring they would be just like Ozark, AR and I would be basically kicked out of town. I don't know why I keep on making assumptions cause I'm never right.

Speaking of assumptions, I am heading to the North now. I loved the South. Everyone I know makes fun of them but boy, they opened their arms wide and were very kind to me.

North, your move.

The Last of the Real White Americans

The first stop I made in Tennessee I saw more muddy Fords and Chevy trucks, giant belt buckles and heard more "Boy, you'd better git" than I have heard this whole trip combined. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit. Even so, it's pretty impressive to experience intense culture shock at a gas station off I-40 even though I have already been in the South for three weeks now. Woodbury, TN, about an hour southeast of Nashville, was just the same. I parked at a gas station to attempt to interview customers. The old Ford F150 parked next to me had the doors unlocked and the keys in the ignition. It turned out, that was one of the employees cars: he wasn't just going in and out. How incredible would it to live in a place where you can do that without worry!
Getting people to fill out my survey in a town that doesn't really care too much about tourists or research was a little difficult but I kept at it and finally got the surveys I needed. The last store open at 8 PM was McDonald's so I ended my day there. As Friday night got later, more and more couples shuffled in wearing pajamas. In fact, I think you were the minority of you wore jeans. I tried not to judge and all I'll say is I made a valiant effort. One of the minorities dressed nicely helped me out by filling out surveys. They struck up a conversation and we had a nice chat until, on their way out, they said "Oh no, I forgot to put my level of happiness!"
"That's ok, don't worry about it."
"Well, my happiness is a 10. I'm the one who put real American on the race!" They waved goodbye and I tried to gather my thoughts because it came so out of nowhere. Good thing though because if I hadn't been taken so far aback, I probably would have jumped them. Sure enough, on the demographics section where you *circle* a race in a list of options, in clear print, he had written,

"White--the last of the REAL Americans"

Well, lucky me. If I got nothing else from this trip, at least I got to interview the LAST OF THE REAL AMERICANS. Good grief.

A night out in Nashville was in store after a long day of work and I hit the bars to listen to some good American music. There were a lot of frat boys in Walmart cowboy hats but also many genuine country folk. I walked from bar to bar listening to anything from country covers, to fiddle and banjo, to even an amazing performance of yodeling. Especially the band that had the yodeler was just incredible.

After Nashville, I spent the weekend with a friend I had met studying in Japan 5 years ago. He treated me out to a fun weekend and a MUCH needed break. We even got to see a great firework show. Now, I'm on my way back to Tennessee to spend time in Appalachian culture. I'm a pretty nervous, which is normal, but hopefully I'll be able to understand more people and broaden my world view.

Dit Dots and Ding Bats

So I am feeling pretty ignorant and dumb for assuming that North Carolina was in the north. Silly me. I was a little surprised when two girls asked me,
"What's the difference between a dit dot and a ding bat?"
"A what a whata?" I asked in reply.
"A dit dot is a Yankee who vacations often in the south. A ding bat is a Yankee who stays." The other girl let out a big laugh and added, "Oh yeah, that's the same joke as the difference between a Yankee and a damn Yankee." Oh. That's when I figured out that the Mason-Dixon line was not, in fact, between the Carolinas yet rather above Virgina (although there is some controversy over whether or not northern Virginia is a part of the Southern club). Another couple I met along the way sighed and lamented their friend needed a little "Reconstruction" to clean up her attitude.

The houses lined in "Remember 9-11" and Confederate flags are never in nice neighborhoods here. The stars and bars decorate rotting trailer eaves and hang proudly on the bag of rusted out Ford F150s. They sway in the wind on flagpoles in front of overgrown, weedy lawns. Poverty causes so many problems and frustration and hatred. It is passing through these southern villages that I think of Edward Norton starring in American History X. In many ways this is a gruesome, yet important film giving accurate viewpoints of frustration over poverty on both poor white and African American backgrounds. I am incredibly grateful for this experience to not only travel around the country, but to meet and talk to the people who live in each area. I had the idea that small towns would basically be the same. However, each city and village I have been to has been completely unique from the other.

A part of my surveying led me right next door to my aunt and her family. I spent every day going out to interview people but also got to spend some good time with a family I had not much interaction with before Facebook. We had an excellent time together and--I even killed my first animal with my own hands. Then we ate the poor bunny for dinner. It is not a pretty sight watching an animal die. The rabbit, after I broke her neck, twitched unnaturally on the ground while I silently prayed she would die quickly and that she felt no pain. (warning: picture of meat at bottom of entry)

The next day, I headed on my way to Rock Hill, South Carolina for yet another day of interviews...while fighting a migraine. A few hours into my search, I drove by an old Presbyterian church with an elderly couple hanging a sign out front. I felt I should stop and so I did. We clicked instantly and they tracked me down interviewing others to invite me to spend the night. Even though I was hoping to be on the road that night, I decided this was a cool opportunity so I did. We spent hours chatting, laughing, sharing stories, and discussing problems in society. They even packed me a lunch with delicious southern food for my long day of driving.

My next stop was Tennessee--the most redneck state I have been to yet. I'll explain in the next entry. It's been pretty impossible to update with no outlets or internet access. I will update more regularly as I think I will have more internet access soon.