On my Monday morning flight from Recife to Miami a few weeks back, the flight attendant offered me the Sunday New York Times. I was distracted from the fact that 40,000 miles below I was leaving behind my Brazilian sister, passionate colleagues, capoeira in Olinda, the endless (and relentless) sunshine of Brazil’s nordeste, açai na tigela berry banana sorbet goodness, runs at the Jaqueria Park, and all that I had come to love about the gritty city of Recife. The tangy smell, dry feel, and shadowy imprint that the real paper left in my hands, coupled with a weak shot of diner quality coffee with cream, my family awaiting at the airport, and the inauguration just around the corner left an anxious buzz in my stomach which lasted the duration of the six hour flight.
Two weeks later I am spending my first substantial amount of time in front of the internet at the local coffee shop here in Lubbock, Texas. So when friends have asked how am I adjusting, well… I feel as if I’ve moved from one foreign country to another, and so the adventure continues.
During our drive down to Lubbock, my best friend and I met some lovely people. We did the trip in just two days, stopping at two Sonic burgers and a Holiday Inn Express, passing endless strip malls and long stretches of flat nothingness in what could have been anywhere USA. Folks that we met along the way have been curious about our journey. Preconceptions that I held – thinking that people may be hostile to the progressive bumper stickers on my car or our clearly non-Southern-non-drawl – have been disproved. The South is a mixed bag: driving through Oklahoma, the only state in the union in which all of its counties went red for McCain, we met some Oklahomans for Obama: we also passed a fair share of neon glow-in-the-dark crosses and Jesus Loves You! Love the Lord! billboards.
Outside of the politico-religious confusion, like Brazil, folks here seem to take you for who you are. The good energy that we espoused was met by an equally pure, non-judgmental stance. At least at the gas stations and fast food joints off the interstate.
So, in searching for a common ground between the energy of Brazil, the warmth of Midwesterners, and the intellect of Boston, in just two days and with the impeccable help of an iPhone I’ve already located Lubbock Yoga for some peace-of-mind, the Amigos grocery store for fresh corn & wheat tortillas, the J&B coffee shop for free wireless, and a local ‘Obama Economic Recovery meeting’ for a dose of sanity. On top of it, and unlike Brazil, strangers say ‘howdy’ when they hop out of their pickups and ‘bless you!’ when you sneeze. Because Lubbock is a college town, I’m having lunch today in the Language department with the Portuguese Club, and have met a PhD student who is from none other then Recife, Brazil. And, because it’s Texas (albeit the flat, cold plains of northwestern Texas), I’ve spoken more Spanish in the last two days then I have over the last two years.
My only real complaint thus far – upon visiting the New York Times website eagerly searching the 79415 zipcode for home delivery, my response was a strikingly disappointing “Home delivery is not currently available in your area.” I could mail order the paper, which would arrive 2 DAYS behind the production schedule. So for a real paper feel it’ll be the local Lubbock Avalanche Journal, and the New York Times Online.
Stay tuned from more MamaShayna’s Musings from Lubbock, Texas & it’s surroundings. Next up- a Lubbock photo blog.
Bela said,
February 14, 2009 @ 1:25 pm
I love how after having lived in lots of different places, every trip becomes a cultural experience, even to a different region of the US or revisiting one’s hometown. Like Lubbock, São José has limited cultural options compared to, say, São Paulo or San Francisco, but I’m learning the rewards of being patient with a place to find its hidden jewels (including yoga, belly dance classes and a 24-hour coffee shop), and appreciating simple joys like just sitting around chatting with friends.