New Old England
Scene setting: Greyhound bus, where even the aroma of a stagnating toilet and the enthusiastic (read incessant) commentary of the bus driver are stomachable as I trundle through the very green beauty of Rhode Island and Connecticut en route to the Big Apple....
Although 26 years of life (and 3 specific years of anthropology) have been drumming into me how not to stereotype, I'd be lying to say I didn't hold certain images in mind when I thought of the states. I don't need to articulate the images many of us have of our American compadres. But I think this past week has been one of the many in which I will be proven shortsighted. New England is exactly where it has been right for me to start my journey from Old England. Wondering the streets of Boston or the beaches of Cape Cod or the woods of Waltham, there have been many moments when I wouldn't have known I was in America. Or anywhere in particular - they just feel like very familiar environments. The food is great (see future post committed to this topic alone; it would be a disservice to sloppily reference it otherwise), the people are Brits with an accent (read that as you wish), the weather darting from clammy checking-if-you've-sweat-patches to rain coat and scarf in a way only a seasoned Brit can handle. It's been a home away from home.
What did I do this week ? I had the good fortune of staying with perhaps the most knowledgeable people in the whole universe. No paving stone was without a historical anecdote. I can't recount any of them, but rest assured that for a fleeting moment in time I had a PhD in Massachusetts history. I did the usual - natural history museums, art galleries, cemeteries holding people I pretended to know.. Something I really enjoy about new cities is getting to know the differing neighbourhoods. Like many places, downtown is fine but not soul stirring. Southie was great - the location for Good Will Hunting and The Departed. North End took me through the American Revolution. I mentally bought several million dollars worth of property in Back Bay brownstones. I couldn't tell you too much about Chinatown as most of that was under a haze of Sam Adams... I also got to experience life in the beautiful suburbs and the normalcy of everyday family routine - BBQs in the back yard, changing the coffee filters, tuning into NBC, babysitting the neighbour's children. It was almost so comforting I could accidentally fall into a forever life here. But NY calls and on I venture...
End note: you'll be happy to know everything is "awesome" and I'm wishing everyone "has a great day now". It's only going to get worse.
Although 26 years of life (and 3 specific years of anthropology) have been drumming into me how not to stereotype, I'd be lying to say I didn't hold certain images in mind when I thought of the states. I don't need to articulate the images many of us have of our American compadres. But I think this past week has been one of the many in which I will be proven shortsighted. New England is exactly where it has been right for me to start my journey from Old England. Wondering the streets of Boston or the beaches of Cape Cod or the woods of Waltham, there have been many moments when I wouldn't have known I was in America. Or anywhere in particular - they just feel like very familiar environments. The food is great (see future post committed to this topic alone; it would be a disservice to sloppily reference it otherwise), the people are Brits with an accent (read that as you wish), the weather darting from clammy checking-if-you've-sweat-patches to rain coat and scarf in a way only a seasoned Brit can handle. It's been a home away from home.
What did I do this week ? I had the good fortune of staying with perhaps the most knowledgeable people in the whole universe. No paving stone was without a historical anecdote. I can't recount any of them, but rest assured that for a fleeting moment in time I had a PhD in Massachusetts history. I did the usual - natural history museums, art galleries, cemeteries holding people I pretended to know.. Something I really enjoy about new cities is getting to know the differing neighbourhoods. Like many places, downtown is fine but not soul stirring. Southie was great - the location for Good Will Hunting and The Departed. North End took me through the American Revolution. I mentally bought several million dollars worth of property in Back Bay brownstones. I couldn't tell you too much about Chinatown as most of that was under a haze of Sam Adams... I also got to experience life in the beautiful suburbs and the normalcy of everyday family routine - BBQs in the back yard, changing the coffee filters, tuning into NBC, babysitting the neighbour's children. It was almost so comforting I could accidentally fall into a forever life here. But NY calls and on I venture...
End note: you'll be happy to know everything is "awesome" and I'm wishing everyone "has a great day now". It's only going to get worse.
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