The Travellin' Blues

What do I think of computers? Really. On one hand, it is my one link to humanity. On the other, it sucks the life out of me and fills my mind with complete drivel. I have watched at least 14 movies in the last week and a half, mostly lame chick flix because I am afraid to watch something too scary or depressing. But cheesy movies are depressing in themselves. Did I really just watch 126 minutes watching that? Ugh!

What I want to do is take a trip. I spent the better half of the last two days planning my next trip to all the places I'll go when this pregnancy is over and we are all healthy and happy. Patagonia, the Shetland Islands, Cape Breton, Sitka, AK, Peru. And the hikes I want to do! Maybe all this dreaming is inspired by the book I am reading: There's No Toilet Paper ... on the Road Less Traveled. The cover proudly claims it's "the best of travel humor and misadventure". It makes me think of the culture shock John and I have had. And, oddly enough, most of the funny things happened in the US rather than abroad.

It probably started when I first met John. John was invited to a wedding of a high school friend in SD and he invited me as his date. I dressed up in heals and a trim, fitted little black dress that showed my knees and had a slit up the back. It was sleeveless and very chic. But I was introduced to all of John's friends with shocked stares. All the guys were wearing jeans and ropers. And the women were wearing jumpers. But a few years later I married John anyway .... and there were jeans and jumpers at my own wedding.

Then we traveled down south. John and I stopped at a gas station on a back road. It was miles from anywhere and we were starving - but luckily there was a Waffle House across the street. The sign was half lit, and there were two guys sitting out front in overalls with a REALLY nice hound laying at their feet. It was our only option for miles around, but when I went to pay for my gas I merely asked the attendant if the restaurant served anything besides waffles. I was met with an icy glare and a stream of tobacco juice into a soda can .... ten seconds of silence .... I feel strange .... twenty seconds of silence ..... I start to squirm ... forty seconds .... What did I say? .... more tobacco juice ... then finally ..... "Yous ain't from around heh', are ya mam?" It turned out, I had a juicy burger and some sweet potato fries for supper that night.

Then there was the time we were about 10 miles into Wyoming, just leaving South Dakota for Devil's Tower. They were blasting the road out ahead and we were stopped for half an hour waiting for a pilot car to lead us through the construction. A very lean man, probably in his thirties, but who looked about fifty, was holding the stop sign. Wearing a yellow reflective vest with no shirt underneath, he finally came to talk to us. He smiled, showing all three teeth through his scruffy beard, and proceeded to give a slow but steady 25 minute talk, allowing us to get very few words in edgewise. "Got a f----- smoke? 'Scuze me mam. I didn't realize there was a lady in the car. See yous all from SD. That's good. Ain't never been there myself, but hear its nice." I stifle a smirk knowing we are only a few minutes from the border! Really? "Too many f------- foreigners, 'scuze me mam, comin' in here and sh---- up the place, 'scuze me mam. Where are you headed? Devil's tower, I suppose. Been there once. D---- sister got married at the top. We had to f ----- rope up, and shinny to the d----- top, 'scuze me mam, for that there ceremony. Never did understand it. Sure you don't have an f------ smoke? 'Scuze me mam. S-----. I could use a d---- smoke, 'scuze me mam. Well, sure glad you ain't no stupid foreigner. They don't know the ass of the cow from the front. Their always lookin' at a d--- cow and asking 'Are them bison?'" Here he stopped to spit in the dirt. "Sh--, 'scuze me mam, I jus' look and them and say 'No, they ain't'". And so his ramble went on for a half hour. Along came the pilot car and we waved a hearty good-bye and laughed for a hours afterward.

Then there was the West TX hole-in-the-wall gas station a few mi. from the Mexican border where we stopped to use bathroom. I was suddenly and obviously the only white person in the room. It smelled horrible. Everyone stopped talking. I smiled and tried to look nonchalant, but was stared at by at least 10 Latino men. I quickly went to the bathroom and locked the door. I prayed that John would come in after pumping the gas. I again noted the stench. I quickly used the nasty bathroom. What was that smell? There was a knock on the door. I froze. Silence. "Kathleen?" Phew, it was John. I went out and realized the smell was from the very large, very real tiger that was in a chain link cage in the middle of the gas station. A hand painted sign on plywood read "Picture with Tony - $10".

And so I let my mind take me off of bed rest for a time. I'd like to just go into town and get some ice cream. But the sun seems a little more cheerful from the sofa as I read and dream of all the funny and a little unnerving things that may happen on our next trip. And I wonder - what culture shock you have experienced? (Laura, you better not say that it is coming to my house!)