Cultural Tutorial B: A Window Into the Soul of Northwoods Maine
A German woman that I met in a local bar-cafe the other night was telling me about how she ended up in Greenville, ME. She had met a man on the Internet, had engaged in a friendship with him, and had fallen in love. Time went by and she finally moved out to live here with him. They now have a child together, a home, and a very stable life.
"Do you like it here?" I asked her.
"God no!" she told me, "If I had known what this place was like, I never would have moved here. But I just figured, 'heck, every place in America is the same."
A common mistake, and one that I have made a thousand times. Being from such a self-centered region of the United States (New Jersey), I am used to thinking of the country (or at least of the East and West Coasts) as one, big, homogenous place.
Not so.
Maybe it is just because of the circles in which I live and work here, but people are different...Very different from what I'm used to. Some examples:
Everyone hunts.
Everyone eats moose.
Everyone has a gun.
Good looking girls fish.
People say "goddamn" a lot.
They say "queer" and mean "weird"
And there is much more than these admittedly shallow differences that separates "Joe Mainer" from "Joe New York".
My dad used to tell me (with a chuckle, half-joking): "You know that you're in Maine when you start seeing people using car hoods as an addition to their house."
Sad, but true. It is not uncommon to meet people here, at least in this part of the state, that live in log cabins, in shacks, in all sorts of "rustic" circumstances.
There is so much to tell on this subject, but I will wait until the next entry, when I provide a full description of the temporary workers currently here at the camp. They've been here for three days and eat with us in the ktichen. I have never, ever, been so happy not to be the enemy of someone as I am with these guys.
They are rough and tumble, let me tell you.
Coming soon.
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