My students, even the ones from "tiny" villages in the countryside, can't help but express complete disbelief in the fact that my hometown has a population of roughly 14,000 (if school's in session and everyone else has come to town to visit their grandmas). When I tell them the nearest city's about 100 km away with a population of less than 200,000, their minds practically explode before my very eyes. Even the children of farmers cannot imagine so much empty land, much less the kids who grew up in the city of 30 million just up the river. In their minds, there's absolutely no question that I grew up in the countryside. Considering Mom wouldn't let us spend our lazy summer days wandering the rugged canyons located just behind the next block over (because of rumored rattlesnake dens and the occasional coyote), I'm inclined to agree.
When I first moved to the DFW area all those years ago, I remember being a little nervous about the increase of traffic and not being able to see each and every star, each and every night. I couldn't have loved living in a place more, though. The diversity, the opportunities, the convenience, the liveliness - I felt like I was made for the city. Never before had I had the option of knocking out my grocery shopping at 3 in the morning if I just couldn't sleep. After years of loving that location, it came as no surprise to me here - an hour (at least) from any major city - that I thrive in metropolitan areas, even when it's hard. Last weekend, it was a little hard.
Arianne and I met up with a friend who recently moved to the city before I was scheduled to tutor my lone middle school student. They decided to catch a movie while I headed off to the subway station. Almost as soon as we parted ways, my shoe broke. Of all the places a shoe can break and render one semi-barefoot, this was terribly far from my top choice. I was in a crazy expensive shopping district (seemingly high end, yet just the week before we saw a parent-accompanied child pick a corner and pee in it). I guess what I'm saying is, there are a lot of reasons why going barefoot here was just not a great option; however, I didn't think I could afford any of the shoes in the immediate vicinity.
I saw a pharmacy 20 steps away and hobbled over, trying to make the best use of my broken shoe. I asked for anything they had that could aid the situation and was met with blank stares. No tape or glue or adhesive of any kind - mostly just cosmetics and creams. I found some floss, purchased it, and determined to rig the shoe back together somehow. Success! Until about 8 steps later. New shoes moved from being one possible, if less desirable, option to an immediate necessity. Thankfully, there was an H&M nearby (though "nearby" quickly becomes "a land far, far away" when hobbling through a crowded mall on a broken shoe and gathering bizarre (even moreso than usual!) glances from curious onlookers) and I scored a pair of flip flops at a price I'd never be willing to pay under more reasonable circumstances.
Donning my new shoes, I quickly made my way across the city and found out no trains would be heading back to my town at a convenient time, meaning I'd have to find a car for Arianne and I after meeting up with my student. The meeting went (much, much) longer than anticipated and poor Ari was stranded at the train station McDonalds for quite some time, waiting for my return. We found a car, but it was already close to 11 pm and they needed to find a couple other passengers before they were willing to make the drive back to our town. Nothing beats standing outside an empty bus station late at night with people quizzing you in the local dialect. We finally made it home sometime around 12:30 am or so. Somehow, throughout all the random little frustrations, I couldn't help but find myself chuckling in wonder at the realization that I still actually enjoyed being in the city. Despite whatever situation was faced. (Disclaimer: It may have helped that Arianne had picked up a pizza to bring home for the next day.)
That being said, I also can't deny that a good part of me is still a country girl at heart. On those all too rare, clear-skyed nights, my teammates jokingly call me "camp counselor" as I excitedly point out whatever stars peek down through the clouds above and enjoy breathing just a little bit deeper. I know at times in my life I've passionately advocated for one extreme or the other (city life/country life), but I think I've finally reached a place that I just appreciate both.
When I first moved to the DFW area all those years ago, I remember being a little nervous about the increase of traffic and not being able to see each and every star, each and every night. I couldn't have loved living in a place more, though. The diversity, the opportunities, the convenience, the liveliness - I felt like I was made for the city. Never before had I had the option of knocking out my grocery shopping at 3 in the morning if I just couldn't sleep. After years of loving that location, it came as no surprise to me here - an hour (at least) from any major city - that I thrive in metropolitan areas, even when it's hard. Last weekend, it was a little hard.
Arianne and I met up with a friend who recently moved to the city before I was scheduled to tutor my lone middle school student. They decided to catch a movie while I headed off to the subway station. Almost as soon as we parted ways, my shoe broke. Of all the places a shoe can break and render one semi-barefoot, this was terribly far from my top choice. I was in a crazy expensive shopping district (seemingly high end, yet just the week before we saw a parent-accompanied child pick a corner and pee in it). I guess what I'm saying is, there are a lot of reasons why going barefoot here was just not a great option; however, I didn't think I could afford any of the shoes in the immediate vicinity.
I saw a pharmacy 20 steps away and hobbled over, trying to make the best use of my broken shoe. I asked for anything they had that could aid the situation and was met with blank stares. No tape or glue or adhesive of any kind - mostly just cosmetics and creams. I found some floss, purchased it, and determined to rig the shoe back together somehow. Success! Until about 8 steps later. New shoes moved from being one possible, if less desirable, option to an immediate necessity. Thankfully, there was an H&M nearby (though "nearby" quickly becomes "a land far, far away" when hobbling through a crowded mall on a broken shoe and gathering bizarre (even moreso than usual!) glances from curious onlookers) and I scored a pair of flip flops at a price I'd never be willing to pay under more reasonable circumstances.
Donning my new shoes, I quickly made my way across the city and found out no trains would be heading back to my town at a convenient time, meaning I'd have to find a car for Arianne and I after meeting up with my student. The meeting went (much, much) longer than anticipated and poor Ari was stranded at the train station McDonalds for quite some time, waiting for my return. We found a car, but it was already close to 11 pm and they needed to find a couple other passengers before they were willing to make the drive back to our town. Nothing beats standing outside an empty bus station late at night with people quizzing you in the local dialect. We finally made it home sometime around 12:30 am or so. Somehow, throughout all the random little frustrations, I couldn't help but find myself chuckling in wonder at the realization that I still actually enjoyed being in the city. Despite whatever situation was faced. (Disclaimer: It may have helped that Arianne had picked up a pizza to bring home for the next day.)
That being said, I also can't deny that a good part of me is still a country girl at heart. On those all too rare, clear-skyed nights, my teammates jokingly call me "camp counselor" as I excitedly point out whatever stars peek down through the clouds above and enjoy breathing just a little bit deeper. I know at times in my life I've passionately advocated for one extreme or the other (city life/country life), but I think I've finally reached a place that I just appreciate both.
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