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January 20, 2006
"This is Hope, she's from the South. She's wicked into God." -Scott
Jason Harrod lived in Boston when he wrote Carolina. As I hear him croon about long leaf pine I long to go home to the south. That is where he is now not with Harrod and Funck anymore but in the blessed Southland. I never expected to miss the vistas. A few times I have looked to the sky and seen the blue Appalachian Mountains formed from the blistery winter clouds. As it has been a warm and rainy January and at times the humidity has tricked my skin into believing that I had made it back home. My being longs hear old men who know the dates of hunting season by heart. My being longs for the Atlantic Ocean near Hunting Island and the Savannah River.
As I sit tonight trying again to finish my Peace Corps application I wonder why I want to go anywhere but South. I want to see the skeleton cathedral, the Great Barrier Reef, and spider monkeys. I want to know that I will not be stuck sitting in a job that makes me as unhappy as the people I serve pancakes to every mourning. Maybe I have seen life far to idealistically but I never knew just how dissatisfying the general public sees daily life. Conflict theory in class is so different from the dull drone of masses.
I have to write about why the Peace Corps and cross-cultural experiences. I cannot think of a single reason why I want to join the Peace Corps that is not completely selfish. Does that mean I will suck at the job? As far as cross-cultural experiences are concerned I think that on a whole it is going to be a lot more like moving to Boston after college then being in India.
I could go back to school.
I could go and do the next thing.
I am stuck in the North and I miss more than the warmth. Mostly I am just stuck.
blah blah | By razorback | 09:10 PM
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Comments
I miss the Midwest, and the Southwest. The rolling farm land and the people were true all the way to the dirt at least it seem so to me.
I miss the Great Plains of the North the view of the fields covered in snow or flowers, or wheat would take your breath away.
I miss the Northeast, the pace and the places the constant change that always remains the same
I miss the Western shores the view of the ocean and the broken landscapes.
But Most of all I would miss the South, it is sweet in history, customs and quircks.
Posted by: MOM at January 27, 2006 03:13 AM