I had an interesting experience this past weekend. I had returned home after the end of the semester for a few days, a quick deep breath before summer school started for me. A few weeks earlier, I'd found out that an old friend of mine who I hadn't seen since my last semester of college had finished Grad School and moved into a town in Northern Wisconsin. Naturally, being in the area, I made plans to meet her there and hang out with her.
The usual thing happened. Here was something who I hadn't seen she had been a Junior in college, in that time she'd spent time living in England, and had then returned to grad school. In that same amount of time, I'd had my disaster in Madison, and then moved up to Alaska to teach in a native village. And yet, despite these great life experiences, within five minutes it seemed as if we'd last seen each other a week or two earlier. She was back to insulting me as she always used to (It had taken me a while in college, but I'd eventually come to realize that the way this girl showed affect was to try to rake you over the coals. "You look stupid with those sideburns" was her way of saying "I missed you!") and I tried my damnedest to hit on her and get in her pants. As should be expected, we both had a great time.
That was certainly 'a' interesting experience, but not the ones which I wanted to share with you tonight. No, instead I wanted to mention something which has gotten plenty of press in my blog over the past few years, but something that I can't let go of.
The North Woods. (or, as I like to call it, Der Nordenwalden. Its just sounds so much cooler that way).
Looks at those pictures I posted above and you might, just possibly, get a small inkling of what I feel when I think about that region. Or, then of course, you very well may not. It matters not to me.
You see, for the past few years I've noticed that I've been incredibly homesick for the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and the Northwoods in general. These feelings struck me the hardest when I was living in the great treeless expanses of Western Alaska, and my first few months here in Fargo. I had long assumed that this was just my longing for my college days when I had a great circle of friends and still felt that the future was a glorious prize just waiting to be picked.
I'm not so sure about that anymore.
In the past few months I've made several good friends here in town, am feeling pretty good about my future prospects, and generally enjoying life again for the first time in years. Things are going well for me, and I really have no reason to be longing for the past any longer. Besides, as I continually tell myself, all of my old friends have been scattered by the winds of adulthood and now live all across the country; there would be few, if any, people left in Marquette who would know me any longer.
And yet, when I drove up to see my friend, I had the chance to pass through the Northwoods for the first time in about two years; as I did so, all of my old feelings came rushing back to me in a flood. It was so pervasive that it even began to affect the music I was listening to while driving; I wasn't able to find anything that suited me mood on those two days until I put a Country CD in on a whim. Country had always been the type of thing I listened to while driving through the region and, sure enough, it clicked with me.
My point is this: things are going well for me in Fargo, and there is no social network drawing me back to that region. So, why does it continue to grip my imagination so tightly? I honestly don't know, although I suspect it has something to do with the land itself. Somehow or another, I've managed to fall in love with that land, and it pains me to be away from it for too long. I miss the trees, the wet soil, the constant and melodic lapping of Lake Superior upon the shore. Even if there were no people up there at all, I think that I would still cherish it.
Interesting, no?
On a completely unrelated note:
I've been having continual dreams about Alaska lately. The specifics change each time, but the general gist of each dream is pretty much the same. I return to my old village of K------k on a completely whim. While there I inspect the village and run into many of my old students (sometimes the village has changed so much that I can't even recognize it, other times its exactly the same). Usually I begin to notice the sun setting, which causes me to panic because I suddenly realize that I have no place to stay in town. I also become very embarrassed at the thought of any of my former co-workers seeing me in town; so much so that I can't allow myself to ask to stay with one of them (they, naturally, have no idea I'm there, because this is a surprise visit).
Sometimes someone gives me money to a plane ride back and, other times, I wake up in the middle of worrying about what to do.
Not really sure what these all mean, but its rather annoying.
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emotedcreations:
I'm actually German, Polish, Irish, and English. Making your response kinda funny. I'm pretty much 52% German and the rest is mixed equally. It's quite interesting. My dad has actually been spending a lot of time looking into our ancestry--we can trace it back to the 15th Century precisely then it gets a bit hazy. Your story about WI is kinda funny, because I felt the same way when I visited eastern PA which supposedly has a lot of German immigrants (that's where all the Germans in my family started anyway).
calliope:
why thank you