My Run in with the Law

I guess the emo post was good catharsis because I felt better immediately and had the courage to ask a few more people for interviews. One of them was a very neat guy: my age but with a plethera of stories and life experiences. We ended up talking on the back of his V-8 pick up (so very southern) outside a McDonald's until it was too late for me to drive to a new town. He advised me to places to sleep, warning "Oh by the way, the law here has nothin' to do 'round here, so ya might wake up with a tap at yer window." I nodded and smiled but thought, yeah right, I've done this lots of times with no problems.

Sure enough, at 7:30 in the morning, there were two knocks at my back window. I screamed and practically jumped through the roof which in turn startled the police officer into stepping back. Apparently, the site of a dead looking girl in the Baptist church parking lot scared the secretary as she came in to work for the day. After explaining and running my license, everything was cool and they went on their way. And what do you say to the middle aged lady who calls the cops on you? "Hi, I'm traveling across the U.S. doing a survey..." She begrudgingly filled one out for me. I was able to get more surveys from old men at McDonald's, young people at the post office, and the two guys who worked at a car repair shop. "Peanut," the main guy who did my oil change, did the best change I've ever had done for my car right there in McRae, Georgia. Plus even though they threatened to charge a Yankee extra, it was still cheaper than any place in WA.

Feeling much better that I did a good job, I set on my way to my aunt's place in North Carolina. I spent this morning cleaning out a chicken coop and swimming with my little cuz. Next week I'll head back west to Tennessee and then to Ohio then back to Tennessee again to experience some real Appalachian culture and hang out with the people of the town thanks to some wonderful missionaries willing to host me even though they have never met me.

Georgia Peach

Two good things about Georgia:

1. Their peaches. I got one at a roadside fruit vendor and it was quite delicious. At the perfect level of ripeness. No wonder why they are famous.

2. Being able to see the Atlantic Ocean. Despite having traveled to 5 continents and many states, provinces, and countries I have never seen the waters of the Atlantic. The only ocean left to see is the Indian!

Today has been an exhausting day. I just haven't slept well in a week and the idea of going up to more people and trying to get them to help me is emotionally taxing. I am not an extravert. I have 4 surveys so far and I think that is all I can do right now. Some are good days, some are bad. I think I'll just make up for it another day and throw in the towel. Unfortunately, it'll be another night in my car. Even the tent campsites around are 28 dollars a night!

Sorry ya'll--I hate being a quitter.

Florida Heat

Florida is a hobo's dream. It has anything a vagabond needs on a journey. At night, I can park my car relatively close to the beach in safe retirement communities without worry to eat my can of pork and beans or tortillas and peanut butter in peace before sleeping for the night. In the morning, I can throw on swimming shorts and a sportsbra and hit a beautiful white sand beach to do a morning run. This is even better during the off season because these beaches are practically abandoned so the wildlife enjoy the water with you. After a good run, I can take my shower caddy and use the rinse shower outside the bathrooms and just bathe in my running clothes (shampoo is practically laundry soap, right?). Then, I can eat breakfast or lunch at a picnic bench while I wait for the clothes and towel to dry.

It was during one of these routines that I met the Turkish students. A guy offered to press the shower flow button for me while I washed my hair and it went from there. Pretty soon, we were caravaning to Panama City Beach. In an instance of the blind leading the blind, it took extra long to find what we were looking for. Also along the way, we passed under a funnel cloud:

Slightly terrifying as it was RIGHT over my car and I could see it forming. All the Floridians around me seemed unfazed so I thought maybe I was being overly dramatic. Then when we got to Panama City Beach, a restaurant owner asked, "Did you see the funnel cloud we had here today??" Yes, I did see it. A great close up from right below!!

Unfortunately, I still had many hours to get to my next destination so the students and I parted ways at a live music bar on the beach (they stopped their rental car in front of a homeless man to ask where a good place to go was. He was quite helpful) and I tried to make it to Treasure Island.

Treasure Island is a resort town on an island outside of the Tampa Bay area. I visited probably 15 business to get 20 surveys filled. Because it's the off season, the workers were more willing to help me out. One, after filling out my survey, bought me a sea star (that's sitting in my car right now) as a good luck charm for my trip. Very sweet!

Now I'm north of Miami, staying with a friend of a friend. She has been wonderful to let me stay with her and it's been really fun hanging out and getting my butt kicked at Wii. Nothing like playing PS3 with a 17 year old boy to make you feel 1. old and 2. such a girl.

Now that Hurricane Irene and blown far enough north, it's safe for me to head in its direction. Next stop is Eastman, Georgia. Here's a map of the route I've taken so far:
View Happiness Ahead Project in a larger mapThe purple cameras are the places I've done interviews so far, the blue placemarks are the cities I have yet to do.

3 weeks down...who knows how many to go! Til next time!

Reform

I uploaded pictures to the post from New Orleans but this annoying updater would not listen to my html alignment adjustments.

Once I headed south, Mississippi turned out to be a completely different world. Within just hours of being on a side highway, I saw a woman towing a crate meant for 2-3 goats with 10-15 goats shoved in, a 7 year old boy driving a Ford pick-up, lots of old houses with porch swings, and a suspicious crowded gathering of angry looking white people at an unmarked business that had no windows and a heavy boarded up door. Ooh, boy, the deep south. However, once I actually started visiting around, the culture shock abated.

The next morning I went to mass in Mississippi then to do some interviews in Reform, Alabama. Finding people on a Sunday proved to be a difficult task. And although no one was right out angry or rude, everyone seemed suspicious of this stranger. I decided to eat lunch where people suggested: The Place. This was my first meal of fried catfish and hush puppies. DELICIOUS.

Dangerous stuff because I could have easily eaten the whole meal in one sitting but for financial reasons, I decided to save it.

I had all the interviews I thought I was going to get and headed further south. Before I left town, to my right, I saw a Catholic church. Mass started at 4 PM, I looked at the clock in my car: 3:56. Well, dang it, too much of a coincidence so I made a U-turn and headed in. This is by far the smallest Catholic church I have EVER seen. There were maybe 20 to 30 parishioners crammed in a tiny chapel. Unfazed, the priest bellowed out the liturgy in a voice that could have filled a cathedral. After the 35 minute service, he introduced me to the parish and they welcomed me with genuine enthusiasm. The Smiths, an active couple in the church, invited me to stay the night at their 1000 acre ranch outside town. How could I say no? I am just amazed by the wonderful and generous people that have come across my path. They had awesome stories to tell and wise words to share.

One of the most interesting things I found was when we were checking out a house they had just purchased. Doing the job I do, I visit LOTS of houses, ranging to 110 years old to only a few months. This was a pretty typical 1920's structure. In the back, though, behind the porch was a well.
"This was because the house was built before electricity and plumbing." She explained.
I was confused, "Wasn't this house built in the 1920's?"
"Yes, that was before the south was wired." I thought about the northwest, where I had never visited a house that had a well in the back, despite being in residences much older.

At the end of the civil war, the South was left destitute. Reconstruction put the nail in the coffin. It's all written plainly in text books, but it was incredible to see the other side of the story firsthand. Northerners will commonly have a stereotype of the ignorant, uneducated, Yankee-hating south. After spending time in small towns here, where I had to do verbal interviews with old men due to a high illiteracy rate, I completely understand that mentality. I talked with a couple from Hot Springs, AR. "Oh, ok, I was going to go there! Is that Hot Springs Village?" "No," They vehemently and quickly retorted, "That's where the Yankees live....no offense. They use all their North money and buy retirement homes there." In one of the counties I did interviews, there is a 10 percent illiteracy rate. 10 PERCENT. Among older African Americans, the percentage is considerably higher. Poverty is commonplace.

I knew America was going to be diverse, but I did not dream I would experience such a wide variety of cultures to this extent. It's easy to think, well, this is my country. I know my own homeland--after all, I'm American! If only I had enough time to tell the backgrounds of all the people I've interviewed or just chatted with along the way. I'm so grateful to have this opportunity to broaden my worldview in my own country.

Today will be a day of rest to check out the beaches in Florida and get some more miles under my belt. Life is rough. Til next time!

The Big Easy

New Orleans has never been on my list of must-visit cities (and if you know me at all, I have an extremely extensive list). When a dart landed on this town, I thought, well, this should be interesting. A young girl traveling alone out of a car to a city where many people warned me along the way "Don't stay there, it's a dangerous place."

And for a moment, when I got off the exit to stop by a Catholic church, I thought maybe they were right. I was surrounded by sketchy people. To the left, a drunk was being arrested and to the right, at the police station, an unguarded inmate in an orange jumper sat on the steps smoking a cigarette. Even the church was normally gated off by tall, metal spires. I caught the closing blessing of mass and headed to the graveyard behind the chapel. Obviously burying the dead underground in a bayou is not a great idea so all the graves of centuries past are in massive concrete tombs. There is something mystical and strangely peaceful about being just inches away from the ancestors of an old city.

When I was finished getting used to the extra heat, I decided to head to the French Quarter. This was by far the most open and easy-going city I've been to so far. Yesterday when I was in Newton, MS, a town of a population probably not much more than one or two thousand, I was kicked out of a Piggly Wiggly for disturbing the employees. Because in a town that size their work is just THAT crazy. I wasn't sure what to expect from Who Dat as this was the first place on my list with a population of more than 40,000. However, people were so laid back I was even able to stop people on the streets, all types of employees in stores, taxi drives, human statues, palm readers, everyone. I even did a verbal interview while a man walked around the French Quarter hat shopping. Despite the heat so overwhelming it was oppressive, the residents seemed genuinely content and relaxed.

Unfortunately even though I am driving straight towards Hurricane Irene's path, I decided it would probably be a bad idea to get a hurricane at Pat O'Brien's. I did, however, sip on a mint julep while listening to a live jazz band in a garden. The architecture is very reminiscent of Buenos Aires in its strong French influences. Compact, colorful, and old. Absolutely beautiful.

There's only a few cities I've ever been to that have made me want to stay and none of them have been major metros like New Orleans. However, this lively, chill, mixing pot of a city won my heart over within minutes of my arrival.

It's Gonna Work Out

After having such a wonderful experience in Joplin, the next day was not so exciting or wonderful. Just one bad situation after another. I finally pulled into Ozark, AR nervous but eager to get another city checked off the list. The first place I pulled into was a 66 gas station. I half expected to hear, "You ain't from round these parts." It was the constant you don't look like you belong here looks that made me shy away from asking too many people about my survey.
"I'm traveling doing a survey of communities and happiness across America and I randomly chose your city. Do you have a couple minutes to answer just a few questions? It would help me out a lot!"
"No."

That was the response I would get if I did manage to make eye contact with someone, or if someone would smile at me in response. I moved from place to place all with no luck. In the end, I sat eating really horrible, I mean awful, Mexican food place hoping I could ask people there. Instead, I ended up forking over 8 dollars for a vegetarian quesadilla (the cheapest real food on the menu)that tasted like cardboard. And still no luck. Ok, fine, I decided to sit in my car and try to think of where to go next. I called hostels in New Orleans to stay the next night and all the hostels without bug infestations were booked. So I knew I didn't want to go there yet but it was the next stop on my list.

The people in the car next to me had locked their keys in the car and since I was right there, I offered to take them to get a spare as they were really freaking out about it. "No, thanks." they responded bluntly to my offer. Wow--even people needing HELP wouldn't talk to me. I decided with frustration to head to Hope, Arkansas. Already was it getting dark. By 9 PM, the highway I was taking to get there turned windy, pitch black, and cut off all cell reception. Bad idea. I turned around deciding to get a motel room and rest up for the next.

Bad idea again. It was haunted. I won't get into too much for sounding like a crazy person but it was terrifying. I've experience two different haunted places before but nothing with this overpowering evil.

Now it was 1 AM, I was exhausted, and still had no direction. I was too tired to be chosey about my parking lot so I chose Second Baptist Church (hehe) in Conway. The next morning, I sat down to drink coffee at Starbucks and everything opened up from there. The Starbucks was filled with lovely people who were all willing to help me fill out surveys and just be friendly and kind. I had such a good time there!! One of the employees offered me a place to stay with her. At first I wasn't going to take her up on the offer because I wanted to be on the road. The more I thought about it, though, the more I thought it would be a good idea and I'm glad I did. Nicole is a beautiful, generous person who did not have much to give but was willing to share so much. It's incredible how when you feel like you have no direction to go (mine was more literal), and everything goes wrong and you start to despair. Then, everything goes right all at once. Suddenly all those puzzle pieces come together and you start to feel kinda silly for going nuts over something that was working out all along. It was wonderful to be mutually inspiring to one another.

Now, I'm in Columbus, Mississippi heading east to do another set of interviews in Reform, Alabama. Again, nervous but eager to get another city checked off my list. Here's to meeting good people willing to help me.

Hope in Rubble

On May 22nd, 2011, Joplin, MO was hit by a massive EF-5 tornado. With winds surpassing 250 mph and the twister reaching one mile long, this destructive force of nature wiped out half the city of Joplin within a very short time. Now 3 months later, the city is still in need of a lot of help. Although the majority of clean up has been done, the task ahead to rebuild seems a little daunting.

(The back of what's left of Joplin High School)

I was at the Americorps office at a little after 7 AM, gross, and quickly was paired up with a volunteer Lutheran church group from Dubuque, Iowa. Sometimes it seems like the media portrays Christians and just a bunch of hypocritical and judgmental bible-thumpers and it's easy to start believing this stereotype. However, all the volunteers and volunteer groups outside of Americorps and the Red Cross were all Protestants or Catholics, whether going solo or in a small group. I honestly was surprised by this. Without knowing who I was or anything about my history, this group of short term 'missionaries' took me under their wing with the hospitality of the Good Samaritan. They gave me a place to stay, giving up their own bed, bought me dinner, and sent me away with little care package items.

The girls of the group decided to spend the second half of the day out of the sun doing data entry. The whole morning we were lifting cinder blocks, chimney bricks, dry wall, 2x6s--whatever was left of a demolished house. The heat index was over 100 and we were all covered from head to toe in dirt and sweat. I decided to finish the manual labor with the men and I'm sure glad I did. The original owner of the house had come by during our lunch to pick up a piece of pipe: a souvenir of the work he had spent in putting the house together. Now he was standing over a barren lot with only a few bits and pieces of insulation and porcelain. I can't imagine the grief. At 76 years old, he isn't the healthiest men, he explained, so that's why he had been unable to do the clean up himself. He teared up when he pointed out where they put the Christmas tree during the holidays. He talked about how his kids and his grandkids and great grandchildren had been raised in this house of love and how how broken he was that it was all gone.

However, he didn't break down until he talked about how *grateful* he was. "I'm just gonna have cry, I'm sorry. God's love..." He stopped to wipe away his tears, "I'm just so lucky. God is so GOOD to me. This is just a house. But he changed me. My heart. God is good." More tears followed.

A man who had lost the house he had spent decades in all in the matter of a few minutes, could not contain the tears because of the hope he found in God.

I'm not retelling this story to try to preach and demand conversion to whatever branch of Protestant Christianity this man was a member of. I even debating retelling this story due to that reason exactly. But this man's joy, despite obvious pain, was too incredible not to share. An evangelical Christian in Joplin was the first person to ask me why I had religion in my survey of happiness. It seemed like he wanted to add in why you should be Christian in one of his sermons. I said honestly: It doesn't matter what religion you are. As long as you are faithful to that religion, you will love longer and happier. Why?

Hope changes everything. Therefore, live in hope!