Sojourning

I always thought the word “sojourn” meant to take a “journey of the soul,” probably because of former slave and freedom-fighter, Sojourner Truth. She wrote a famous poem called “Ain’t I a Woman” and it was very soulful. She was also a woman who took journeys. Sadly, I recently discovered that “sojourn” means “a temporary stay.” Not only did I misfire with the definition, I completely obliterated the part of speech. I probably belong in the English teacher hall of shame.

However, assuming that we English teachers can do whatever we want with language, I’m officially changing both the definition and the part of speech so that I can write about my recent experience sojourning up the east coast.

DESTINATION 1: Paulsboro, Tropical NJ, July 8-11, 2005

WHY THERE? Namely for the Giovannitti family reunion and to visit Smith relatives.

FIVE MEMORABLE EXPERIENCES:

• Obviously, the food: Cousin Joey served sausage and peppers and other delights. He catered the event. Uncle Carlo and Aunt Mary Ellen also informed me that I can make better spaghetti sauce if I use pork ribs, but I should never take the meat off the bone because that would be stupid.
• Reunion day was also Cousin Matthew’s 21st birthday. After all the parents went to bed he had 7 shots of tequila and started yelling the word “wagon.” Flashback image of him as a toddler negotiating the patio furniture on grandmom’s front porch. I had to wipe away a tear, but just a small one.
• Congratulated one newly married cousin. Consoled two recently-divorced cousins.
• Cuddled cousin Julie’s new baby and pet a drooling cat with only three working legs.
• Hugs, kisses, and uneasy good-byes. When family is so far away, we never know when (or if) we will meet again. That night I felt like my heart was getting squeezed in someone’s fist.

MAJOR STEP IN MY SOUL’S JOURNEY:
Families aren’t perfect, nor should they ever strive for perfection. No matter how much time we spend together, in the end most of us wish we had more.

DESTINATION 2: Philadelphia, PA. July 11-13, 2005

WHY THERE? I met friends Jessica and Chalena at the airport. Our plan was to travel up the east coast to have exciting (but cheap) adventures staying with friends. In Philly we stayed with my friends, Becca and Carolyn.

FIVE MEMORABLE EXPERIENCES:

• Independence Hall, Congress Hall, and Olde City Hall (where the Supreme Court was held and the Declaration of Independence was signed). Philadelphia was actually our nation’s capital before Washington, D.C. No, seriously. It was.
• Took a cab to Pat’s Restaurant and had an authentic Philly cheesesteak sandwich. It was served by a fat man with a dirty apron and a thick accent. We ate outside amidst the trash and pigeon droppings. I still maintain that you can’t get a decent cheesesteak outside of Philly.
• Visited Washington Square and the tomb of the unknown soldier. More pigeons. Dang.
• Peeked at Ben Franklin’s grave through the graveyard gate because it costs $5.00 to see it behind the bars. Later I met the actual Ben Franklin at the Constitution Center and had my picture taken with him. Thanked God I didn’t pay all that money to see an empty grave.
• Walked down Elfreth’s Alley, a national historic landmark and our nation’s oldest residential block (dating back to 1701). I stood on the cobblestone street and pretended I was wearing a bonnet and waiting for a carriage. A nearby jogger told me to carry on.

MAJOR STEP IN MY SOUL’S JOURNEY:
I have no one to blame but myself for my weak and withering history education. But, it’s never too late to begin. I’m never too old to learn and I enjoyed learning new (but old) things.

DESTINATION 3: New York City, NY July 13-14

WHY THERE? Because it’s New York City! HeLLO. Our friend, Katie met us there and the four of us stayed in a hotel one block away from Times Square.

FIVE MEMORABLE EXPERIENCES:

• Took the Staten Island Ferry (it’s free) and got a distant view of the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island (both of which cost money to see up close, much like Ben’s “grave”).
• Ate an amazing dinner in Little Italy and was called “Bella” by a handsome Italian man. I enjoyed that a little bit.
• Saw “Rent” on Broadway.
• Took out a row boat in Central Park (actually, Katie did all the rowing) and walked down the Grand Mall, which is part of a very famous scene in “When Harry Met Sally.” The Grand Mall also has statues of several famous authors. I took a photo with Shakespeare and wrote a sonnet in my head, paying homage to my dead fish of the same name.
• Went downtown and tried to visit the New York Stock Exchange, but there were two men with machine guns who made sure no one DARED tour it. So, we visited Ground Zero instead. It made me sick to my stomach. None of us talked for a long time after that.

MAJOR STEP IN MY SOUL’S JOURNEY:
Much to my surprise, I actually can read a map and find my way in unfamiliar territory. Though I’m getting used to quiet, suburban life, I think there will always be a special place in my heart for the city scene.

DESTINATION 4: Monterey and several other places in MA., July 15-17, 2005

WHY THERE? Jessica’s former roommate, Katie, works as a volunteer on Gould Farm, which is a psycho-therapeutic community for mental patients who are making the transition from the hospital to civilian life. Though most of these people suffered from schizophrenia or other ailments, all of them were stable, highly intelligent, creative and kind. Most of the time I couldn’t tell the difference between the patients and the staff.

FIVE MEMORABLE EXPERIENCES:

• Our first job on the farm was capturing escaped chickens. Though I’m embarrassed to admit this because their legs are about 96% shorter than my own, I was not able to catch a single chicken. However, my friends caught them and let me hold them. Chickens are surprisingly cuddley.
• While Jessica and Chalena helped wash and sort eggs, Katie and I fed the turkeys and mended the chicken fence.
• I milked a cow, named a pig, and rode in the back of a pick-up truck. All of these were new experiences for me.
• Visited Stockbridge, MA., which served as the inspiration for many of Norman Rockwell’s paintings.
• In Concord, MA. we toured several literary sites, including the homes of Hawthorne, Emerson, and Alcott. We also visited Thoreau’s famed Walden Pond. I took many dorky pictures of myself standing in front of these landmarks while waving. These photos will be much appreciated by my American Literature students, especially during our transcendentalism unit.

MAJOR STEP IN MY SOUL’S JOURNEY:
Visiting Gould Farm was one of the most soulful experiences of my life. I learned that there is great healing to be found in nurturing plants, animals, and people, and allowing them to nurture you in return. The five minutes it took to mend that chicken fence made me feel more valuable than days and weeks spent on any other activity.

DESTINATION 5: Manchester, Maine, July 17-20, 2005

WHY THERE? Darci, one of Jessica’s other college buddies, rents a house on a lake. Since I was traveling with several “nature people” they were determined to make me swim in the lake and (horror of horrors) go camping. I escaped the camping.

FIVE MEMORABLE EXPERIENCES:

• Visited the Portland Head lighthouse, which is on the cover of several books about lighthouses. I now understand why so many people are fascinated with lighthouses. They’re peaceful, yet strong. Sort of like coffee.
• Paddled a canoe.
• Swam in lake. Surprisingly, was not eaten alive by fish or lake germs.
• Ate Maine lobster. (It’s as good as they say.)
• Chilled in the hammock and read my book.

MAJOR STEP IN MY SOUL’S JOURNEY:
Maine was the perfect, relaxing end to our adventure together. Before the trip began, I was concerned about my ability to play well with others. I have lived alone for so long and seem to need a fair amount of time to myself. However, on our last night together, we reflected on the journey with great joy and satisfaction. All of the things that seemed stressful and irritating in the moment, we were able to look back on with laughter. That’s all I really wanted out of this backstory, and I got that and so much more.

Welcome to the Real World

Remember the Velveteen Rabbit? All he wanted was to become real. Unfortunately, this didn’t happen until a little boy loved him enough to shower him with Scarlet Fever germs. Then he was put out in the rain with the trash and almost burned to death. He finally got to become real, but not before he pissed his little bunny pants in fear.

Whenever I think about the difference between reality and fantasy, I remember my kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Barnhill. I can still see her bedecked in her red teacher sweater, hands on her hips. “Alice is not a liar,” she explained to my mom, “It’s just that five-year-olds have trouble distinguishing between reality and fantasy.”

Evidently, the day before (when asked what I did in school that day) I gave my mom a detailed, 20-minute description of the “paper cup people” that we made. I was very specific. They had pipe cleaners for arms. The next day, my mother came to pick me up and excitedly asked my teacher, “So, when do I get to see those AMAZING paper cup people?” Mrs. Barnhill looked at her like she was an escaped mental patient. As Mom tugged at my arm and the two of them talked, I started to realize, “Oh yeah . . . that never happened.” I went home confused and deflated.

The next day started normally. Mom shoved my older brother and I out the door and as soon as we hit the sidewalk we instantly became bags of flour, poured into a mixing bin at the Kraft factory. By the time we reached Dover Street we had been boxed and shipped to Safeway where we waited patiently with a dozen other boxes of Macaroni and Cheese. Finally, a smelly fat man bought us, boiled us, and (tragically) ate us. By the time we reached the school yard we were processed noodles who had met their ultimate demise in the city sewer.

Our Macaroni and Cheese saga always went smoothly because there were never any adults to ruin it. Other parts of my fantasy life were extinguished more quickly. For example, when I bravely gave birth to my teddy bear in the front yard (my brother was the obstetrician on call who expertly delivered him from underneath my t-shirt) my father witnessed the entire distressing scene. Instead of helping, he simply chuckled and said, “Alice, why do all of your babies have fur?” I was livid.

Sometimes I wish I had held onto that anger – that impulse to immediately defend yet refuse to justify my fantasy life. I still maintain my own little pretend world, but it’s more of a plague than a passion and most of the time I keep it to myself. Lately I’ve been entertaining a fantasy about buying a dozen Baby Ruth candy bars and secretly dropping them into the display toilets at Lowe’s. I cannot explain why I think this is funny, nor would I actually execute my plan. It’s just something I suggest to my friends to make them laugh and possibly get a drink to come out of their nose.

Besides, by the time we reach our late twenties even the most harmless fantasy must submit to a little reality. In my adult imagination I never drop the candy bars into the toilets and make it out of the store undetected. A clerk in plumbing always spots me and calls the security guard. Or, worse yet, I run into one of my high school students just as the last candy bar hits the bowl. “Miss Smith?” He stares at me quizzically, not sure if it’s me. He walks closer. “What ARE you DOING?” I just stand there silently. I cannot explain myself.

A few months ago a friend of mine bought me a refrigerator magnet with a picture of a 1950s, Donna Reed-looking character dusting off an arm chair. The caption reads, “She loved imaginary men most of all.” I guess everyone knows I still need a little fantasy in my life. But I steer clear of the candy aisle, and I never buy Macaroni and Cheese anymore. Somewhere along the line, things just got a little too real.