Iowa: Day One
In Which Katherine Discovers She's Not in Kansas Anymore, Meets Some Intersting People, and is Confused About Iowan Roads.
I’m going to try and write this in an intelligent manner, but let’s see how that goes. I also apologize for the undoubtedly lengthy post, but what can I do? There’s just too much to write about.
My grandfather and I arrived in Iowa knowing that I was the anti-Iowan. The liberal, vegetarian, pro-fair-trade, energy conscious, equality now girl was going to Iowa (the state that’s exciting once every four years). But, my grandfather and my grandmother are from Iowa, and he really wanted to show me his town, and where we come from.
Upon leaving the airplane, the very first thing I spy is an advert for a gun shop in downtown Omaha. It struck me, right then, even after all the mental prepping I did-I was not among “friends.” People were walking around in cowboy boots, talking in accents that weren’t quite southern drawls (but were hard to understand just the same), and talking about the latest NASCAR race. Outside the airport, I found a car that had the following bumper sticker: “In God We Vote.” Not kidding.
Having been awake since 2:00 am Seattle time, I was in desperate need of caffeine, and tried to get a chai from a chain coffee shop. They didn’t know what it was (today I found a Starbucks-yes, I know, bad girl-and they for some strange reason had Morning Glory chai instead of the usual Starbucks brand. How odd!).
We were able to get our rental car all right, and began the long drive to Vail, Iowa, where my grandfather graduated from high school (on an interesting side note, he graduated from VHS, where the colors were also green and gold). The roads here are so much more pleasant to drive on than in Seattle. He had me drive most of the length, and it was actually fun. I like driving here. It’s not the least stressful. Mainly because there’s one highway that goes through all the towns, and it has four lanes. That, and no one drives on it. The only strange thing about their roads, and I thought this was confusing, was that when you come to a stop sign, or a stoplight, there’s not white line marker telling you where to stop.
I asked my grandfather how many people graduated in his class (1942), and he replied, “13 (it was one of the big classes).” Of these 13 people, five have already passed away, and three more were unable to attend the reunion (that he knew of). I was expecting this reunion to be a small affair, perhaps in a café. Boy! Was I wrong! It was a reunion for the entire school-of every class that’s ever graduated from Vail High School.
The people, we’ll start out with, are very kind. Everyone was glad to see that someone had come with Tom Dawson for the reunion, and they knew all about my family (“You’re from Vaaaah-SHAWN, aren’t you???”). They had great stories about my grandfather’s childhood and all the trouble he used to get into (think if my brother was let loose in a society where the laws weren’t upheld. Yes. He’s like that). People were asking if they could help my grandfather and I get around town-they’ve all been raised to be kind, benevolent, amiable people.
BUT.
They’re all God-fearing, slightly homophobic, Republicans.
Whenever someone asked me what I was studying in school, they would be completely silent after I responded. The mere mention of politics sent them into a spiral. It wasn’t that they thought I was a Democrat, it was that I was even interested in politics. They’re just not involved with them like we are here; it’s not something that’s terribly important in their lives. Yes-they all vote Republican-but I think that they could switch teams (so to speak) if the Democrats could get them more involved, and interested in politics.
Other than the general disinterest in politics, there were two other creepy points of the reunion. Being the naïve Seattleite, I didn’t stop to consider that everyone was deeply religious. During the reunion, we must have prayed at least four or five times. To be honest, at times, it felt more like a church service than a high school reunion. It wouldn’t have bothered me except that it was so often during the night, and that each prayer was so long. People would have NEVER gotten away with this in Seattle (especially since the reunion was held in a government building). We're so concerned with being poltically correct, but here, there's no one to offend (except the goddless me who's going to hell anyways).
The other creepy moment came from when roll call was being administered near the end of the reunion. The woman, whose name I cannot remember, was calling out people who attended Vail, and asking, “Did you bring a partner?” Partner meaning, of course, a person who was brought along as a guest to the reunion, and not as a homosexual partner. SEVERAL people took severe offense to this, and went to great lengths to reassure everyone in attendance (and also themselves, I think) that they were not gay. “This is my WIFE, Ruth.”
Other random notes about Iowa:
Despite the state having chain stores (WAL-MART) and chain restaurants (Burger King, McDonalds, etc.), the only chain bank they have is Wells Fargo, and the only location I’ve seen for this bank is in Ames, where the University of Iowa is. Other than that, the banks are all “Mom and Pop” types. Somehow, using a chain bank is the only time I’d feel better using a chain over an independent store. Also, it’s really cute when these “Mom and Pop” banks advertise online banking in their store windows-but I’d be too terrified that it’d be insecure to use it.
I’ve only seen two different crops in the fields of Iowa: corn and soybeans. While Iowans eat corn by the ton, they don’t touch soybeans. In fact, they think it odd when one asks if there’s anything vegetarian on the menu.
Because I a sick little girl, I found humor in this. I found a “Papa Bear” construction company, and also a chain of tire stores called, “O’Reilly.” There was in Ames, also a Carlos O’Reilly restaurant. They serve, a mix of Irish and Mexican food. I don’t think I’ll be stopping there anytime soon.
Day two tomorrow...or whenever I see internet again.
I’m going to try and write this in an intelligent manner, but let’s see how that goes. I also apologize for the undoubtedly lengthy post, but what can I do? There’s just too much to write about.
My grandfather and I arrived in Iowa knowing that I was the anti-Iowan. The liberal, vegetarian, pro-fair-trade, energy conscious, equality now girl was going to Iowa (the state that’s exciting once every four years). But, my grandfather and my grandmother are from Iowa, and he really wanted to show me his town, and where we come from.
Upon leaving the airplane, the very first thing I spy is an advert for a gun shop in downtown Omaha. It struck me, right then, even after all the mental prepping I did-I was not among “friends.” People were walking around in cowboy boots, talking in accents that weren’t quite southern drawls (but were hard to understand just the same), and talking about the latest NASCAR race. Outside the airport, I found a car that had the following bumper sticker: “In God We Vote.” Not kidding.
Having been awake since 2:00 am Seattle time, I was in desperate need of caffeine, and tried to get a chai from a chain coffee shop. They didn’t know what it was (today I found a Starbucks-yes, I know, bad girl-and they for some strange reason had Morning Glory chai instead of the usual Starbucks brand. How odd!).
We were able to get our rental car all right, and began the long drive to Vail, Iowa, where my grandfather graduated from high school (on an interesting side note, he graduated from VHS, where the colors were also green and gold). The roads here are so much more pleasant to drive on than in Seattle. He had me drive most of the length, and it was actually fun. I like driving here. It’s not the least stressful. Mainly because there’s one highway that goes through all the towns, and it has four lanes. That, and no one drives on it. The only strange thing about their roads, and I thought this was confusing, was that when you come to a stop sign, or a stoplight, there’s not white line marker telling you where to stop.
I asked my grandfather how many people graduated in his class (1942), and he replied, “13 (it was one of the big classes).” Of these 13 people, five have already passed away, and three more were unable to attend the reunion (that he knew of). I was expecting this reunion to be a small affair, perhaps in a café. Boy! Was I wrong! It was a reunion for the entire school-of every class that’s ever graduated from Vail High School.
The people, we’ll start out with, are very kind. Everyone was glad to see that someone had come with Tom Dawson for the reunion, and they knew all about my family (“You’re from Vaaaah-SHAWN, aren’t you???”). They had great stories about my grandfather’s childhood and all the trouble he used to get into (think if my brother was let loose in a society where the laws weren’t upheld. Yes. He’s like that). People were asking if they could help my grandfather and I get around town-they’ve all been raised to be kind, benevolent, amiable people.
BUT.
They’re all God-fearing, slightly homophobic, Republicans.
Whenever someone asked me what I was studying in school, they would be completely silent after I responded. The mere mention of politics sent them into a spiral. It wasn’t that they thought I was a Democrat, it was that I was even interested in politics. They’re just not involved with them like we are here; it’s not something that’s terribly important in their lives. Yes-they all vote Republican-but I think that they could switch teams (so to speak) if the Democrats could get them more involved, and interested in politics.
Other than the general disinterest in politics, there were two other creepy points of the reunion. Being the naïve Seattleite, I didn’t stop to consider that everyone was deeply religious. During the reunion, we must have prayed at least four or five times. To be honest, at times, it felt more like a church service than a high school reunion. It wouldn’t have bothered me except that it was so often during the night, and that each prayer was so long. People would have NEVER gotten away with this in Seattle (especially since the reunion was held in a government building). We're so concerned with being poltically correct, but here, there's no one to offend (except the goddless me who's going to hell anyways).
The other creepy moment came from when roll call was being administered near the end of the reunion. The woman, whose name I cannot remember, was calling out people who attended Vail, and asking, “Did you bring a partner?” Partner meaning, of course, a person who was brought along as a guest to the reunion, and not as a homosexual partner. SEVERAL people took severe offense to this, and went to great lengths to reassure everyone in attendance (and also themselves, I think) that they were not gay. “This is my WIFE, Ruth.”
Other random notes about Iowa:
Despite the state having chain stores (WAL-MART) and chain restaurants (Burger King, McDonalds, etc.), the only chain bank they have is Wells Fargo, and the only location I’ve seen for this bank is in Ames, where the University of Iowa is. Other than that, the banks are all “Mom and Pop” types. Somehow, using a chain bank is the only time I’d feel better using a chain over an independent store. Also, it’s really cute when these “Mom and Pop” banks advertise online banking in their store windows-but I’d be too terrified that it’d be insecure to use it.
I’ve only seen two different crops in the fields of Iowa: corn and soybeans. While Iowans eat corn by the ton, they don’t touch soybeans. In fact, they think it odd when one asks if there’s anything vegetarian on the menu.
Because I a sick little girl, I found humor in this. I found a “Papa Bear” construction company, and also a chain of tire stores called, “O’Reilly.” There was in Ames, also a Carlos O’Reilly restaurant. They serve, a mix of Irish and Mexican food. I don’t think I’ll be stopping there anytime soon.
Day two tomorrow...or whenever I see internet again.