A Big Move (aka Major Differences) part 1

     7 weeks ago, I hopped on a plane that took me from San Jose, California to Monroe, Louisiana. When my parents dropped me off at the airport, Daisy came with to say goodbye. After grabbing my things (1 luggage, 1 carry-on, and my backpack), I turned around to say goodbye to Daisy. We hugged, we kissed, we exchanged some words, and we shed some tears (it was tragic, seriously). Then I turned to head into the airport with my mom to check my baggage while my dad made a loop around the airport. After checking in my baggage, there was nothing left but to head on up to the security checkpoint. I hugged my mom goodbye and cried some more. I wasn’t really sure what lay ahead of me at that point– the only thing I knew for sure was that I would be leaving everyone and everything that I had known in my life up to that point. Tough to do when you lead a life you enjoy surrounded by people that love you. This was very different from leaving to San Diego.

     When I went to San Diego to start school, I drove down with a friend to a place that I had already been to and where I knew I was going to see at least a few familiar faces.  Louisiana was a complete unknown – I had never even spoken to whoever was picking me up at the airport, let alone met any of the staff in person (we’d had conversations on Skype or the phone). I didn’t have any expectations for the place besides knowing that it would be a lot more hot & humid than California. Turns out even that expectation wasn’t completely right – I think San Jose’s hotter, it’s just the humidity down here that makes me sweat so much. In fact, I knew so little about the place I didn’t even think it rained down here – which, in retrospect, why the hell wouldn’t it rain down here?? I moved to the South, not the goddamn desert. If that doesn’t give you a good idea for how unaware I was coming down here, I don’t know how else I could show you. I really didn’t know anything. Heck, I still haven’t* even made comparisons between the temperature here and in San Jose to conclusively tell you which place is hotter!

     Anyways, back to my flight to Monroe. First off, I didn’t even go there directly. I flew to Phoenix for a short layover of about an hour, after which I travelled to Dallas, where I slept over at the airport. Finally, I woke up for an early flight out of Dallas to Monroe. When I got there, I waited for about an hour before I was picked up by a fellow corps member. I hopped into his car and we drove to Tallulah, a city with a population of – get this – a whopping 7,500 people. At this point, I was a good 1,500 miles further from home than I’d been in San Diego.

Before I continue, let’s have a quick rundown of the perceptions of my new home:

• So humid I could just stand outside and still sweat.
• A population that is literally less than 1% of that of San Jose’s
• Waaay way far from home. As in, a one-hour drive and a 7-hour flight to get home, whereas before I’d been a 20-minute drive and 1-hour flight from home.
• I hadn’t realized it immediately on my first day, but my God – the mosquitos. There are hordes of them, and they just feast on your flesh. Sometimes, even coating myself in bug spray hasn’t been enough L.

     All in all, not a very flattering list. Oh, and did I mention? I went from being just another Vietnamese person in a city absolutely teeming with Asians to being one of less than a dozen Asian people that I had seen in the entire city. Like, when I saw the family that ran the town’s Chinese buffet, I actually felt a sense of kindred with them – just because they were the only other yellow people I’d seen all week.

      I wouldn’t say I’ve ever been particularly conscious of my skin color growing up, but I’d be lying if I said there weren’t times in the past 7 weeks where I felt like I stuck out just for being the token Asian in the area. For instance, students where I taught summer school asked if I was from China, if I could speak Chinese (typically accompanied by the “ching chong ling long” used by those who are too unaware to know any better), or if I was really from California. The worst part of it all is that I don’t even blame them for their questions – I would bet that for most of the people around here, Asians account for less than .01% of the people they’ve encountered their whole lives. Why wouldn’t they assume I’m Chinese, considering they’re the most populous of Asians? I’ll probably be the closest a lot of these people will ever get to Vietnam, period. As in, yes, I am rather exotic. I never thought I'd be describing myself as such.
     I’ve never really paid attention to it, but people still do – it shows when they ask me where I’m from (y’know, with that particular tone of inquiry) or where my parents are from. And I can’t help but do a double-take or make a mental note every time I see an Asian – as if to acknowledge that, oh yes, there are other Asians here. Also, the 9-inch hair tied up definitely isn’t doing me any favors either. All in all, the racial difference has definitely been an interesting part of the experience down here.

     I’ve touched on a good number of the features that have made life down here different – the climate, demographics, the extreme distance, and those pesky mosquitos. However, there are still many differences I haven’t addressed yet. These differences include the music, the unique feel, and most obviously, the people. Those are the things that make me excited to live down here, and I’ll be covering those next.

               

* I checked after writing that. The average temperature is 4 degrees hotter in Tallulah than SJ and the amount of rain here is about 3.5x greater than in SJ. The temperature difference doesn’t sound like that much, but consider that the lows are lower here. The highs have to be higher (on average) to make up for that – in the summer months, I’m not sure if the highs ever hit as high as they are in SJ, but the majority of the summer is spent in the high 80s and 90s. At least that’s what I concluded, looking at usclimatedata.com