Baker has graduated from Basic!

After two weeks of glorious sunshine, today has been rather cold and grey, and the forecast for the rest of the week isn't looking great. Well, it's looking like typical Vancouver weather--rainy and the kind of cold that gets in your bones and settles there. Can't wait. Me and My friend Meagan were contemplating this shift in weather today as we walked to a cafe on campus for a quick bite to eat between the obligations from which we run to and fro like chickens with our heads cut off. She said to me, "So, what's the weather in the South like?" I replied, "Well, it's a bit like living in a sweaty armpit in the summer, and it never really gets all that cold in the winter." Appalled by this no-winter-time quasi-fantasy land (I've found that it really is difficult for Canadians to conceptualize the American South; much like it's difficult for Americans to really understand what it means to be Canadian), Meagan continued to ask me questions about what living in the South is really like. And so, over cornbread and veggie chilli (neither of which were remotely comparable to my mom's chilli or my nanny's cornbread), I told her, as best I could, what it's like to grow up in and live in the South. Filtered through my recent experiences of living in the American West and Canada, here's what I told her:

• The South has a sense of community unlike any place on earth. Growing up in the South means that you are always under the watchful eye of somebody--whether this "somebody" is a church member, a neighbor, or an aunt, uncle, or grandparent. This, of course, means that as a Southerner, you have an extensive net of people who are there for you at any time of the day or night.
• This sense of community extends to the Southern phrase "she would give you the shirt of her back if you needed it." This is true of most Southerners, and as I explained to Meagan, it's especially true of my family. I've seen so many instances of selfless giving in my life, that moving out West was a complete shock to my delicate Southern sensibilities (to use Scarlett O'hara-esque terminology). Take talking to people in the grocery store for example. Southerners do this. No one else does. Take waving to people while driving or acknowledging them when you pass by in the street. This does not happen here. These things may not be "giving you the shirt off my back," but they certainly go a long way in terms of brightening the world up a bit.
• The last thing I told her was about the food. About how butter, half and half, and cheese go in about everything; that is, unless it's fried. About how food brings a sense of togetherness to the family gathering after church on Sunday. About how food gives you something to laugh over and enjoy slowly. Meagan nodded slowly as she chewed her non-Southern cornbread, and I could tell that maybe the only way to really understand all of the things I had said would be to experience them, because, for all the bad things said about the South (racism, rednecks, etc), there are a whole host of things that belong to us: hospitality (in every sense of the word), food, and a community who loves and supports and makes life enjoyable, secure, and pleasant.

Talking to her about my "Alabama life," as she coined it, I realized how much of this sense of "Southerness" I carry with me: I'm stubborn; I'm fiercely loyal, and I was taught to acknowledge, love, and appreciate those around me, and of course I'm a huge fan of butter and anything fried! And, in keeping with the loving aspect of Southern life and community, I want to tell you that if I haven't told you recently that I love you, I certainly do. If you're reading this blog, you can count on that.

This blog is dedicated to Baker, who took his Southerness to Basic Training in Fort Sill, Oklahoma. I bet he understands every single thing I've just written.

Love to you all,
S