Dustin and I get off the plane in the Raliegh/Durham airport of North Carolina-our prospective new home state. The wet air clings to us on the way from the plane to the gate. I look at Dustin and say with a grin "Welcome to the East coast baby!(its his first trip to the other side of the country)" The humidity of those parts envelops you in a sticky embrace, and I find myself having flashbacks to the weather of SE Asia during monsoon time-save the monsoon showers . No more Northwest dryness, coolness or mildness-were in the Carolinas-and I am ready to explore!!
Our rental car is a short distance from the terminal. When we arrive the man behind the counter grins and hands us a cold bottle of water and says in an authentic drawl "How Y"ALL doin?" (emphasis on the y'all mind you)-and proceeds to show us a map of North Carolina, with all the places we (aka Y' ALL) must see. "Naya(translation: "now"), y'all gotta know that the cop tends to hang out from Hickory to here, just waitin for y'all to speed on by. Slow down for about 20 miles and y'all should be OK." The O in the OK, is almost impossible to phonetically describe-but not the flat O, of the west. More like it is dripping off the tounge like some sticky, sweet substance. The mouth closes around it and draws it out for an impossibley long time. It sounds positively delicious-even coming out of the mouth of a rental car salesmen. Dustin and I are amused and delighted-not only at his accent, but at the southern hospitality that is simply no joke in these parts. We will encounter heaps more of it as we journey further along.
Our rental car attained (a beige Ford Focus with strange cement bloches on it-HOT!) we take to the open road. Our first leg of the journey is short-only to Chapel Hill- a college town about 25 min. from the airport. Big live oaks stand along the streets of campus, and many of the buildings have the tall columns in front that remind one of the old south. I want to see someone dressed like Scarlett O'hara perched in front of one of them. But, it is 2005 after all and the buildings are surrounded by students dressed in GAP, Abercrombie and other such 21rst century fashions. We stay one night here and dont mind it too much, but it is not where we see ourselves settling. Too flat, too hot-too many 18 year old frattys-not enough....something.
The next day we head out on I-40 to the city of Asheville-our main destination nestled in the Swannanoa valley between the Great Smokey Mts. and the Blue Ridge Mts. Our trip there is shorter than expeceted and the closer we get to the mounains the more beautiful the scenery becomes. On the way, we pass many cars with the confederate flag in the window, or on the license plate, and it makes me think of the Civil War and how many battles were fought on the land that we were crossing. In many ways, the south is like a window out of time, where the history sticks to the people like the humid air, and relics of it stand tall and present in these modern times. Talking to some old timers you would think that the Civil War happend last year-and the hurt and bitterness of it is still immediate. Despite the disturbing history in these parts and the insistance with some people to hold on to ancient wounds- I really do love the old feel of the south. Perhaps it is because I am from a fresh and new pioneering state-but I am fascinated by the south and its old, gnarled, awful, beautiful past.
We arrive in Asheville-and it is all that we hoped it would be. After we go the Bed and Breakfast that our wonderful friends Jessie and Eddie own and allowed us to stay in for FREE-we set off to explore the city. The downtown is almost all brick buildings and old architecture. The streets are narrow and old, like many east coast cities-and the whole area has a charming feel. There are no coroporate chain business's allowed in the downtown area, so you see only local businesses. It is a wondeful feeling. The arts are alive and well in the city, and being a college town, people from all around come to reside there. It reminds me a little Portland(although the population is only 70,000), nestled away in the south. It a liberal bubble where hippies and artists congregate and coffee shops abound. The "real world" lies just outside in the smaller towns surrounding Asheville. The campus of UNCA is a lovely, wooded haven and very small for a public university. The city is almost entirely surrounded by national forest(the Pisgah N.F) and the old, southern mountains-although a shadow of our native Cascade Range-are so beautiful. After a few days in and around this southern city-Dustin and are seduced. He loves the fact that there are actually micro breweries here, and I am still obsessing over the accents.
"You just said "y'all" again." Dustin says to me over a breakfast of eggs and grits.
"Oh, I know baby-y'all better get used to it we're gonna move down to these here parts." I say, my forced accent dripping with the slow, sweet ohs.
He grimaces, and grins at the same time. Knowing me well enough to know that I will soak up the colloquialisms here like they are going out of style.
We leave the lovely mountains behind us after 3 short and sweet days, with a feeling of excitement in our bellies. If all goes well, we will be moving here in July-a new life of academic and southern living ahead of us. As we descend into the flat lands of eastern N.C and the humidity of late summer envolopes us in its sticky glory-I am happy we are heading home. Despite my excitement of our prospected move and the new life that lies ahead of us-I am soo looking foward to the cool, bug free breezes of the Northwest for 10 more months. And, after getting off the plane in The City of Roses- I look to Dustin with a smile and say "There's no place like home y'all!"
