Welcome to Boston!

Hey Bimbo
Find a New
home for your
shit box Like
Your
Driveway
Getting tired of this SHIT
you MORON

Good morning to you too! Yes! This is how I started my day. I got up, I showered and dressed. I made my lunch and gathered my things. I headed out to my car, which was parked on the PUBLIC street outside my house. As I approached the car I could see there was something on the windshield. When I got close enough, I realized it was a note. It was in fact a note that read exactly the way I have rewritten it here, including the lack of punctuation and inappropriate use of capital letters (obviously written by a true scholar). Clearly I have a very classy neighbor.

So, let me start by explaining a few things. If you are curious, my "shit box" is actually a 2002 Volkswagen Bug. Clearly they were just attacking me and my car in any nasty way they could, but why? Good question. I am always careful to make sure I am not parking in a place that blocks a driveway or will be in anyone else’s way. The last thing I need is for someone to take a tight corner and hit my car! I was shocked by the note though and walked around the car to double check that I was in fact not blocking any driveway and was not in a position to prevent a person from driving on the street.

I got into my car, as I needed to go to work. I called my housemate and told her about the note. To give you a bit of background, I am fairly new to the neighborhood, only moving here in August, and am renting two rooms in a house owned by a university professor. We do have a driveway, but our schedules are both so crazy that it would be impossible to coordinate to park one behind another (the only way we would both fit) in the driveway. For this reason, I do not have a space in the driveway except when she is away. While we were on the phone she said the person must know where I live, as most of the houses on the street do not have driveways. That is when it struck me. This was written by a person who is upset that I am taking up a space on the street when I live in a house with a driveway.

The parking on the street is crazy and often it is hard to even find a space, but it is still a PUBLIC street. It will never cease to amaze me that there are people in Boston that think they OWN the PUBLIC street in front of their house! I had only seen this once before and it was also in Boston!

Years ago before I left the country I was helping my cousin out at his laundromat in South Boston (Southie) every other Sunday. It was a great deal as I was paid to sit and read a book and give out change while I did my laundry for free. South Boston, as some of you may know, is infamous for the craziness of the parking. If you drive through South Boston at any given time of day you will see cars double parked up and down the streets. It is a mystery to me how the inside cars get out. Also many people use garbage barrels and big orange cones to save their parking spaces on the streets. Obviously this is not legal, but you would be risking some retaliatory damage to your car if you moved an object to park your car there. As far as I was concerned those spaces were off limits!

One winter day after a big snow storm I drove to the laundromat. I could not believe my luck when I drove up to an empty space right in front of the door! Happy Day! I parked my car and worked my five hours. When it was time for me to get back into my car to drive home I noticed a note on the windshield. I do not remember the details of this note, as it was over six years ago, but the note was nasty and told me I was in their space. I do remember that it said, "If you did not shovel the space, you DO NOT park in it!" WHAT? Just the fact that it was a space that did not have snow was supposed to indicate to me that it was reserved? I wrote back to them defining PUBLIC STREET and left it hanging from a pencil on the snow bank. I somehow doubt they ever got it.

I was shocked that a person would feel entitled to a parking spot on a public street. I had not thought about that in a long time until today. Today, however, I decided that to leave a note may provoke someone. I believe that a person with such little class and so much cowardice (as they did not sign their note) would be the kind of person to do some damage to my car.

When I arrived at work, I was still rather shaken up and shared the note with my boss and a colleague. They were horrified, of course, and agreed that a person that would leave such a note may take some other action if I continue to park the car on the street. We agreed that I should take the note to the police and file a complaint, and I did so on my way home today. What I thought was funny is the reaction I got from my colleague, who is from California. She said, "Welcome to Boston!" Now, she loves Boston, but she said she has never heard of another place where people feel they own rights to the street. Apparently mine was not the first story she had heard that had that theme.

As I said, I filed a complaint with the police and I plan to go to a couple of neighbors' doors and talk to them at some point. In the mean time, I have no choice but to continue parking on the street. It is a public street and I have as much right to park there as anyone, even if I did have a space in our driveway! Let's hope there are no more notes or any other actions taken against me or my "shit box" as they called it! Welcome to Boston!

Just Another Embarrassing Moment...

I embarrass myself on a regular basis. This has been the case since I was a small child-possibly since I had the ability to speak! I live with my foot in my mouth! This has been true regardless of my location. Some of the highlights?

11 years old, USA: I was playing outside while visiting a family friend that had moved to a new town. I see a 'scary' man approaching us (a large group of children). I immediately take action to alert the group to the oncoming predator! "Come on you guys! Let's go in the house! A scary man is coming!" You can imagine my surprise when nobody budged and one girl burst into tears. I assumed they were all frozen with fright and she was scared to tears until my friend informed me in an awkward hushed whisper, "that's her dad!" OOPS! I ran for the house and stayed in for hours!

29 years old, Daegu, South Korea: I went to visit my first temple with three of my new students. I had just started teaching Writing at a University. I was anxious to explore and thrilled to have students as my guides! I was so impressed with the colors and opulence of the temple. I was like a National Geographic Photographer on location. I snapped picture after picture of every square inch of the temple. We took off our shoes to enter and grabbed mats for the floor. The students showed me the way they prayed and explained the significance. As we were about to leave I quickly went flat on my back on the mat looking up at the ceiling to take a few pictures. It was covered completely in paper lotus lanterns and was visually interesting. When I pulled the camera back from my eyes I could see that the students were uncomfortable. I got up immediately. They ushered me out, but would not tell me what was wrong. Later that day while reading a book about Korea I learned that women do not lie on their backs in public because it is considered to have a sexual connotation! And I had done it in a temple! OOPS!

32 years old, Antigua Guatemala: While having some dental work done, I swallowed constantly. I can't help it. I had to have a route canal in Korea and the dentist lectured me constantly that he was going to drill a hole in my tongue if I did not stop swallowing. This did not make me stop swallowing of course, but made me apologize for it constantly. I am scared to death of dentists you see! I did not get the crown in Korea, so I decided to do so in Guatemala. While the dentist drilled I swallowed and apologized and swallowed and apologized. It was obvious that I was very nervous. He stopped what he was doing and very nicely informed me that he can control my tongue and there is no danger of me getting a drill in the tongue. He then said, attempting to be funny, "You do not have to apologize. It is just who you are." In my normal sarcastic manner, with out thinking, I replied, "Oh yeah! That is who I am. I am a swallower!" Then I felt the heat in my face as I realized what I had said. He politely tried to repress his laughter while I died of mortification!

This brings me to today. It was not as bad as many and although these are excellent examples, it does not come close to covering all the moments! I have friends that live for these stories, and enjoy hearing them regularly, which works out as they take place quite regularly!

I work with teens on a teen newspaper. Today they were interviewing a celebrity. Not just any celebrity, a celebrity that I admire quite a bit for his ability, and yes I think he is HOT! He is also a HUGE celebrity. We will simply call him Mr. X. They were interviewing him in a teen press conference via conference call. We got together with a speaker phone for the interview. We had been together deciding on questions etc... before the interview was to begin. I was not supposed to have to say a single word. I am not a teen. It was their show! When we dialed in they asked for my name and I gave it to them. I informed her that I had three teen reporters with me and she said I would have to introduce them when Mr. X came on the line. So, the time came and he was on the line and I heard his voice and all of a sudden it was my turn and I said my name and the name of our publication and that I had three teen reporters. When I went to introduce them, I blanked on the first student's last name! Then he whispered it to me and I still tripped over my tongue and pronounced it wrong. I was so embarrassed! In that moment I was painfully aware that I had embarrassed myself on the phone with Mr. X. Now that it is over and he has no idea who I am and probably did not notice or will not remember if he did, I am more embarrassed that it happened in front of the students. They had a blast making fun of me when the interview was over! I just kept telling them, "I was not supposed to have to talk!" They knew though. They knew it was because I was nervous knowing he was on the line!

You would think that I would become somehow immune to humiliation, but I can honestly say that each sting is as bad as the last. Luckily, I am a person that can laugh at myself, well after the moment has passed that is! There will be more embarrassing moments to come. That much I know!

A 'Foreigner' Forever...

I come to this entry as a virgin blogger. Sure, I've kept a journal for most of my life (although I am slacking in that regard of late). Why? Why haven't I done this before? Why am I doing it now?

Many of you are probably thinking "this is as good a time as any," but that may not necessarily be true in my case. You see, I have just returned from living abroad for the last five years. Most would think it makes more sense to start blogging when you leave everything you've ever known for a foreign land, rather than when you have recently returned.

I don't disagree, especially looking back over these past five years and knowing it all would have made incredible material. I could have written about everything from the beauty of a place to the adjustments necessary to live there, the cultural differences, and the people I encountered.

I am not sure the question is why didn't I then, as much a why start now? As to why not then, to be honest, I have been resistant to blogging. As I said earlier, I have always kept a journal. I guess what many blogs do, I do in my journal. I have always considered my journal to be very private. I will often write things in my journal that I have never said out loud.

I realize now there are many things in my journal that could be shared. Maybe a blog could serve one purpose and my private journal another. This alone is not the answer to why now though?

It is hard to understand if you haven't experienced it yourself, but to live out of the country for so long and then come back takes a lot of adjustment. 'Home' doesn't feel the same as it did before you left. Living abroad changes the way you see the World and your place in it. It did for me anyway, and it is hard to explain that to people. Also you miss things and people that will never be easily accessible again. They are not here. Friends' lives at home have progressed five years without you in them and you often find they do not have a lot of time for you, leaving you lonely and bored, and thinking, even if only fleetingly, of leaving the country again. Then you remind yourself that you will have to go through this even if you go away and return in five years time. You would simply be putting off the inevitable!

On top of all of this there are the subtle differences in the way you think and see the World, politics, society, war etc...It is a slow change, but one that people recognize and are often uncomfortable with. There are some people that I do not dare to share my views with at all. I have heard many things that disturb me, but often am afraid to talk about it with people. I still share those things with my friends in other countries or friends here that have lived abroad.

I think when you leave your home, your country and go and live in other cultures for an extended period of time, to some extent you will always be a 'foreigner' no matter where you go-even just a little bit in your own country. You never completely fit in while living in those other countries of course, but you never will at home again either.

Of course, there are wonderful things about being home. There were things and people you missed that you can now have or be with. It is wonderful to reconnect with family and friends when you can. I have two nephews. One, Griffin, is just three months old and was born within a week of my return. The other, Logan, is two and I am enjoying establishing a bond with him. It is not all bad, but it is an adjustment.

I am going to use this blog to express myself through this transition, whether it is sharing my experiences, talking about new friends,any trips I may take, or simply ranting about politics, the long lines at the bank or the crazy Boston driving. It may serve as a form of therapy for me in this period of adjustment!