I just got home from Grand Junction, Colorado. I am really tired. I noticed Rachel left me a note to myself…heh. Actually, I am bit depressed. I am staring blankly at my screen, dried eyes, Kasey Chambers’ voice echoing in my ears.
I’ve only been home two hours, and it seems like the cares of life are yet upon me once again. This weekend, I was wrapped up in the beauty that the Trinity exemplifies for us: community, sacrifice, and service. It was a time of rediscovery for me. Tim put it this way, “I haven’t seen you have that much fun since I’ve met you.”
I went down with Tim to visit the Boda and Ferguson families that went to church with Tim in New Hampshire. It was the first time that I was really able to be myself in the last six months, without being criticized for it.
Since I’ve been living in the Inland Northwest, my personality has been stifled a lot. I had thought that I had just changed. My trip to Colorado taught me that I hadn’t. For the first time in six months, I was totally me, and I didn’t worry about what people thought.
At one point, I was even dancing in Pastor Ferguson’s house (making up dances to psalms). And instead of getting weird looks, I saw Mrs. Ferguson join in. I felt really at home.
With those funny Yankee accents, I felt like I was living at home with my parents again. The trip made me think a lot about who I really am. The answer, much to my best friends’ chagrins, is that I am a Yankee. Now, I may be a sort of modified Yankee. I’m a Yankee that has imbibed a lot of Southern culture, but I am a Yankee. More specifically, I am a New York Italian that has been tempered a bit by living in the South for a few years. That doesn’t mean I think the North was right or anything like that. It means, that is the culture I grew up in, and it’s a culture that I greatly love, and it’s the part of me that I miss this most.
I’ve had plenty of anti-Western posts, but I say, let the West have what they got. I just don’t want it. I’ve lived here for six months, and with the exception of Rachel and her mom a few times, I haven’t gotten a hug in six months. In just a couple of days in Colorado, Mr. and Mrs. Boda, Pastor and Mrs. Ferguson, and Lindsay Ferguson gave hugs to Tim and me. I got multiple hugs from them throughout my few days. Now, they all come from Massachusetts/New Hampshire. It’s part of the culture.
As I grew up, I’d get a slap in the head if I didn’t kiss grandpa. It’s simply a more affectionate culture. I am disturbed by the fact that if a man gives me a hug, people here give me weird looks.
Now, people in the West will tell you that Northeasters are rude. It’s simply not true. Okay, they’re more blunt. They’re louder. They can sometimes be more obnoxious. Oh well. I’d rather be hugged.
In the Inland Northwest, manners can often be idols. Now this isn’t something that I am just saying because I am annoyed with the way manners are here. This conversation came up with a large group of people in Colorado. These people had lived in the Moscow/Spokane areas, and they had run into the same thing. I had thought that maybe I was just feeling this way because of my culture, but it’s not just me. I am not English. I don’t want to be English. I grew up an Italian, and my best friends were the Greeks down the alleyway. I grew up in a Mediterranean culture. And ya know what? This English Reformed culture doesn’t like my culture. In fact, it sees my culture as rude, uncouth, and lacking in manners.
Honestly, I don’t care anymore. I can’t pretend to be okay with this anymore. I tasted a little piece of home this weekend. Since I’ve moved here, I’ve had people hovering over me, a little bit suspect, just waiting for me to break the rules. I’m sorry, I can’t play by these rules.
I spent an entire weekend being me. I was me more than when I lived in Monroe or Florida even. The people in Grand Junction made me feel really at home. I met so many wonderful people this weekend. I especially enjoyed my time with everyone, but I especially felt comfortable with Lindsay Ferguson and Nate Ahern. I felt like I was speaking with like minds there. I had several good conversations with Grace Ahern, learned a wonderful composition of Psalm 51 by Abe Ahern, was faked out by Leah Ferguson’s fake cry, and I was frightened by the fearlessness of Jayme and Anna Mazon as we ascended the Colorado National Monument.
My favorite time was at the Ferguson’s on Sunday night. I wept as I left. It was hard to feel normal again. I hope to go back there next month sometime. Here are a few pictures from our weekend.
June 3rd, 2003 at 12:36 am
Ack.
Tim - I dig the sideburns, but lose the hair dye…and the sunglasses.
–Isaiah, the fashion expert.
June 3rd, 2003 at 6:38 am
While I understand the asphyxiation of the Lilith-like Northwest, I am surprised that you could not be yourself in the South. I have found southern culture very warm and friendly. Plenty of hugs and bluegrass jigs. But I suppose that even here in the backwoods of Kentucky, there may be some wincing at the direct bluntness of the Yankee-though we would never wince visibly, not wanting to offend.
June 3rd, 2003 at 7:45 am
Nice post, Rick. I totally identify with you when you say that you thought you had changed, but when you were in a different environment, you realized you had just been stifled. I felt that exact same way when I moved back to Texas after living in Idaho.
June 3rd, 2003 at 9:14 am
I know one thing - I’m not staying in Spokane any longer than I have to. Colorado, here I come!
Just as soon as my lease runs out.
June 3rd, 2003 at 10:49 am
Ew, Spokane is sounding worse every day. I wanna go to Colorado!
On the serious side, though, even though Spokane has a tough bunch of people that make it hard for people to really be themselves, Spokane’s people need ministering… badly. I’m thankful for pastors who are sticking here to help lead the people to a better understanding of hospitality. In some people, I see a desire for growth. In others, well, they just don’t get it. In time, Spokane will become a more welcoming and hosptitable place, if the church is doing her job.
Sure, I don’t want to live here all my life, but that’s because I want to experience something else. I’ve lived in the same house all my life. Plus, I would like to see what a more welcoming culture is like. But some people NEED to stay here. I still have a heart for these people.
June 3rd, 2003 at 12:08 pm
Rick,
I was so blessed to read this entry! Meeting you and Tim this weekend was so wonderful that words can’t even express! It brought tears to my eyes whilest reading that, I never really do realize how much impact we can have on people’s lives until you read such entries as this. My prayer is that the Lord will bless you and Tim as you get back into the grind of day to day life back home in Spokane. Come back and visit us soon and bring Rachel!!! WE LOVE YOU BOTH!!!! God Bless!!!
June 3rd, 2003 at 1:37 pm
i miss the aherns. i am jealous that you got to go see them! i got all teary–eyed seeing the pictures.
June 3rd, 2003 at 1:59 pm
Rick, you’re still young. You can probably plan to live wherever you want to live.
Do it.
And great post.
June 3rd, 2003 at 3:30 pm
I know the Bodas well and the Fergusons (less so). They are incredible people. But the NorthEast isn’t any less stifling than other areas I’ve lived in. It’s people-gifts like the aforementioned that make a difference. Ever since we (my family) met the Bodas, we’ve been inspired to become more open, loving. Our desire here in Lancaster, PA is to try to be people-glue like them.
Interestingly, our men’s group here in Lancaster has been studying Steve Wilkins book “Face to Face” (on friendship and hospitality). In the midst of the discussion last Saturday I offered a glimse of the Bodas to them. I said that they are the kind of people that, when you see them, act like they’ve been thinking about you (or more likely, praying for you). Mr Boda, I said, will talk to you about an issue that is important to you, but you’re never quite sure whether it was important before, or whether he was planting the idea and making it important to you.
As Tim could tell you, we’re from the Northeast and we are stiff and formal at times (probably more often than not). It’s difficult to be something you’re not - and what you are comes primarily from upbringing. But while I think there’s a time for formality, but it should never overshadow love and warmth.
May God make us all more like the Bodas and Fergusons on our own places.
June 3rd, 2003 at 7:15 pm
I just want to say a couple of things …
1) I would want to be careful judging the entire Northwest by Spokane. Almost no one likes Spokane, except those who live even further in the boonies and come to Spokane for a piece of the bigger world.
2) I would like to hear your thoughts, Rick, on Moscow vs. Spokane.
Thanks
June 4th, 2003 at 3:14 pm
Hey buddie!!
When you come to P-town It’l be Hug-O-Ramma man. Can’t wait-
J
June 5th, 2003 at 3:29 pm
Ah, I was just thinking about the Fergusons the other day. I love those people. Each Sunday was a day to look forward to. What if Mr. Ferguson was praying in front of the congregation that day? How I would sit and irreverantly laugh during his prayers. What a marvelous accent (and prayers!). It’s crazy because I forgot about them for the longest time, and couldn’t remember for the life of me who they were. Just some name. That’s terrible of me. Must be becuase I live in the heartless northwest. No, I’m serious. I miss living in Virgina, Rhode Island, and Pennsylvania. Why? Because everyone was so hopitable and welcoming. They also have more deciduous trees. But that’s besides the point. Yep, the east is just one massive hug-city, comparatively speaking. Maybe the northwest will change one day. But it will take something drastic, like Jesus’ return. Frankly, I don’t have that kind of time. I want a hug now, gosh darn it.