What Zactly Y'all Sane?

It didn’t take us long to realize we were living in an entirely different world when we came down here. The dialect here is completely foreign to us. We seem to be catching on, but not too significantly. We just hope we don’t completely lose our northern accents!

We have noticed the language barrier everywhere we go; from talking to other students, professors, and even to the barista at Cups the hurdle seems to always exist. It didn’t take long for our friends to point out the mistakes in our dialect. We have been called out many times on how we say Nevada. We say it Nuh-vadd-ah, whereas everyone down here says Nah-vod-ah. We never really knew it was a north-south difference, but having it pointed out numerous times to us down here, we can finally pin-point the location for each pronunciation.

It didn’t just stop with Nevada; there is also a huge difference in our greetings. We had to get it pointed out to us yet again, but every time someone is introduced down here they insist on finding a mutual friend. They start to ask questions as to where you are from, what your maiden name was, or even what grade school you attended. For us, the mutual friend search in instantly over because we are from Minnesota and Alaska, and not many people down here know anyone from up North.

There is one word in particular we cannot seem to stop saying; y’all. What y’all doing for dinner? Have y’all gotten the homework done yet? It just doesn’t stop. We both use to say “you guys,” but that habit ended quickly. Now y’all has been consuming our everyday conversation, and we are embracing it in the best way possible.

On a recent trip to a nearby bookstore, we happened to glance through the writing and grammar section, only to find the shiniest gem in the bunch, “The Dixie Dictionary: The Way We Tawk Down South.” We must mention the excitement that overcame us when we both flipped through the pages.

A couple of words that caught our eyes were: zactly (exactly), ruts (roots), flow (floor) and sane (saying). We couldn’t help but laugh out loud because we have heard these words and have never been able to fully understand what zactly people were sane.

We have definitely come a long way from the “Oh yea you betcha’s” and “Oh sure’s” from up North, but we definitely have a lot to work on etiquette wise.

Upon arriving in the south, we both heard the general gist about manners down here. We heard men are gentlemen, and hold the doors open for ladies every chance they get. We also were drawn to the assumption that upon answering someone, it was always “Yes Sir” or “Yes Ma’am.” All of these rumors hold true. We have never experienced such gentlemen behavior by the guys down here. They actually go out of their way to open and close our car doors for us! That is just something they don’t do too often up north. Let’s hope it makes its way up to Alaska sooner than later, hunh?

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Eudora Welty, strangely enough, has many things in common with us, one of which was her love for Southern culture. We had heard many times, on different occasions, that we must go visit the Welty house just down the street.

On a beautiful afternoon we took the nice ten minute stroll from Millsaps to the Belhaven community. We passed by all sorts of beautiful homes, and suddenly found ourselves exactly where we had to be, but only 15 minutes too late.

Upon walking in the house, we were greeted with fans, to keep us cool, and a film, to educate us on the life of Eudora. Once the video was finished, we realized we shared the same love of writing she once had. The books scattered about her home had the same feel our dorm room has; not one ounce of space that a book didn’t cover!

When we were traveling from room to room we both couldn’t believe the stories we heard about her life in and out of Jackson. She even attended the University of Wisconsin, just as Emily did prior to Millsaps. She also craved new adventures like we always do. Rose has been all over the world, from India to France to even Switzerland, and Emily has traveled all over England, France, and Italy! We all must have had the same travel bug.

What surprised us most was the location of the Welty home. Eudora and her family moved into their neighborhood when it was still considered the outskirts, almost a rural-like setting, of Jackson. We just couldn’t imagine Jackson any other way than the Jackson we fell in love with less than three months ago. Imagine the roads surrounding Belhaven composed of gravel, and the neighborhoods less suburbanized!

As usual, we both lost track of time and had to end the tour before we even made it to the backyard garden. On our power-walk back to campus, to try and catch our classes, we both could not stop talking about Eudora and the face she made for herself here in Jackson. We both appreciate Jackson, and we especially appreciate others who share in our feelings. Jackson has so much to offer, people just need to slow down and take a step back, because it is right in front of their faces.

Life Stink? We've Got a Pew For You

The South has always been seen as the Bible Belt to us Northerners. After living in such a religious culture we decided it would be beneficial to experience what the Bible Belt has to offer. Coming from two completely different religious backgrounds, we both had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.

We have been noticing the extremely flamboyant church signs that clutter the roads of Mississippi. Each one speaks for a different religion, but all are welcoming outsiders inside. With that being said we decided to take a plunge into a couple.

Our first experience was a Methodist Church, Christ United. From the outside, we felt a little intimidated. The entire complex looked the size of a hockey arena. When we first walked in, we were greeted by men in tuxedos. Once we passed by their hospitable welcoming committee, we came across a table with a giant wedding cake displayed in the center. We couldn’t help but think, “What the heck is going on?”

Once we were handed a pamphlet, our uneasiness was quenched. The topic of the sermon was commitment. Clearly, we both received many lessons on how to make a successful marriage; a subject in which neither of us needed to be educated on quite yet. Let’s just say, we left the service with a new aspect on marriage and a craving for a second piece of that giant wedding cake!

The second church we went to was a Presbyterian church, First Presbyterian. This was a completely different experience. The church was around the size of a house, and was located in a very rural setting. When we walked through the front door, we were instantly greeted by the pastor. He introduced himself and thanked us for joining him for that Sunday morning service.

When we sat down, there could have only been around 30 people in the entire worship space. We sang songs of praise and said prayers for the needy. The sermon consisted of stories and lessons that came out of them. This Sunday it just so happened to be on loving God with your whole heart. The service felt as though we were sitting in on an episode of The Andy Griffith Show. We swear Aunt Bee was sitting in the pew in front of us!

After the service, we were shown around the church and given so many historical facts we just can’t keep them all straight! People were just so glad to see a fresh face to show around.

Our next Sunday service was a Catholic one, St. Thomas the Apostle. Emily, born and raised Catholic, felt right at home. Emily had to explain the tradition involved during the service to Rose. One thing Emily couldn’t explain was that most Catholic churches, down here, did not put out those flamboyant church signs, but they still drew quite a crowd. 

No matter where we are, we always become drawn to reading those cliché church signs. “When God reigns, the Son shines.” We cannot escape them! They are entertaining, but they really give meaning to the Bible Belt. We feel like we really experienced the Bible Belt these past couple months, and we are excited to share our stories to family and friends back home!

Going Green

When we moved down south we were told to expect two big celebrations: Mardi Gras in New Orleans and St. Patrick’s day in Jackson. Mardi Gras in New Orleans made sense to us as a part of the cultural heritage of Louisiana; but St. Patrick’s day in Jackson, MS? We were both surprised to learn that Jackson celebrated with such vehemence its Irish roots. We returned to Jackson from spring break the day before the St. Patrick’s day parade took place and eagerly joined fellow Mississippians on Saturday afternoon lining the streets of the downtown to await the parade.

All the way up in Alaska, Rose had heard of the Sweet Potato Queens: legendary (and at times scantily clad) figures meant to be the crowning elements of the parade. A book about the Sweet Potato Queens describing the bouffant, red hair; glittery false eyelashes and modern day hot pants is known all throughout America and we both eagerly anticipated the sight of such cultural icons. Unfortunately, the Sweet Potato Queens did not appear at the St. Patrick’s Day parade. We learned later that they had been given their own special parade, to be held this Saturday in Fondren, as they were no longer deemed “family friendly.”

Despite missing the Sweet Potato Queens, we were both mightily impressed with the parade and felt that we saw more of the Jackson population turn out during those few hours of the afternoon than in all of our time in Mississippi so far. The St. Patrick’s parade in Jackson is rumored to be one of the largest in the country and the enthusiasm of the crowd decked out in green clothing and glitter beads, as well as the floats on the street, upheld their reputation.

As we walked back from the parade we both remarked how different the downtown looked with all the people walking about- it seemed alive and urban! We noticed how beautiful the architecture of the buildings and churches were; and that the tree lined streets created a relaxed and inviting atmosphere. Every other time we have walked around the downtown of Jackson, it has been empty to the point of eeriness; the difference the crowd gave to the atmosphere of the area was incredible and we felt we were glimpsing downtown Jackson as it had the potential to be.

As we walked along, we asked ourselves what the downtown would look like is there were more local cafes, restaurants and shops? We envisioned outdoor patios where people could sit outside with their food and drinks and talk. There is a small park off of ---, called Smith Park, with a fountain running through it and an amazing stage area where musicians or theater groups could perform. Jackson’s downtown has serious potential, but until the time and money can be sunk into creating the necessary business to gentrify the area, it will remain a ghost of a downtown.

The turnout for the St. Patrick’s parade showed us that Jackson has the spirit and the numbers to create a truly vibrant atmosphere, so why not keep that energy alive year round? Support the efforts businesses are making to develop Jackson’s downtown and midtown areas, such as the F Jones Corner Bar and the Underground 119; as well as other projects aiming to bring the arts to Jackson such as the Figment Project. 

Not So New Side of Town

Before we decided to move to Jackson, we both did the usual online preliminary research: history of the city, as well as various statistics such as population and crime. After two months down here, Jackson’s slogan: A City with Soul, strikes us as poignantly accurate. To our minds, the concept of “soul” is neither simple nor homogenous. Jackson has grit, it has an underbelly possibly more dangerous than most; but what it also has is an incredible community of individuals, businesses and projects working together to bring out the positive aspects of the city and ameliorate the negative. An example of that within Millsaps’ own campus is the Gleaners program which works to stop food from going to waste and distribute it to those in need.

We heard about the project from fellow student Jayson Porter, a sophomore, who comes to the cafeteria every Friday at 7:30 am to pack up the excess food from that week and transport it to the Gleaners headquarters about 10 minutes down the highway. Gleaners, aka The Volunteers of Gleaners, was started in 1986 by Gloria Martinson, a Jackson resident who wanted to decrease food waste and effectively supply it to various shelters and charities around town. The name “Gleaners” comes from the term “gleaning,” a reference to the collection of leftover crops after a field has been harvested. Millsaps participated in Gleaners a number of years ago, but has only in the last couple of weeks re-committed itself to the project.

Porter invited us to participate in Gleaners last Friday and we gladly complied. It was a bizarre sensation walking through the doors into the cafeteria kitchen, an area not normally open to students. As we did, we realized, yet again, that even the most seemingly simple things always have another side, another reality that we only become aware of when we actively choose to acknowledge it.

Together, with another student, senior Anne Waldrop, we scraped over 250 pounds of cafeteria food into bags and deposited it with the happy volunteers at the Gleaners headquarters. On our way back, Jayson offered to show us around West Jackson, an area we had heard much about but had little experience with ourselves.

Heading west from West Street we drove past an old burger joint, once commonly frequented by Millsaps students. The buildings that came next were mostly businesses, and Jayson explained that efforts were being made to revitalize that street with art and music stores and events. Next we took a left at the train tracks and drove past row after row of abandoned, boarded up houses. However, not all the houses and neighborhoods were in sad states of disrepair: there were many beautiful and brightly painted homes, some of which were constructed by Habitat for Humanity.  In these neighborhoods you could see the community that existed on the front porches and in the streets and fields where kids play on sunny days.

Driving back to West Street we saw the fence around the Millsaps campus from another perspective: as one looking at it from the outside, rather than from within. We wondered how the community of West Jackson must feel when they look in at the world of Millsaps separated from them by an iron fence and barbed wire. We asked ourselves what the community of Millsaps owes to the city of Jackson, and how a fence reflects on its motto of community involvement.

We are not quite sure what our next adventure will be. We also do not want to be cut short of any experience anyone feels we should endure. So feel free to visit our blog: http://hankerinthroughthesouth.blogspot.com/2011/01/take-1.html, and leave us a comment! We would love for you to join us too.  

Visitors ALWAYS Welcome

Since arriving in Mississippi nearly two months ago, both of us have been sending weekly (or sometimes daily) reports back home to our friends and families recounting our adventures in the south and this new culture we are slowly acclimating to. As the first members of both of our families to venture this far south within America for any extended time (in his youth, Rose’s father spent two weeks somewhere in Georgia learning the art of manufacturing elastic waistbands for women’s panties) our families are naturally curious about the people and lifestyles we encounter. Back home it seems, everyone has an opinion about this place, the south and Mississippi, that we are coming to love.

The reputation of the south, you could say, precedes it. Before leaving Alaska, over a dinner of pizza and breadsticks, Rose’s aunt left her some parting advice: “just don’t go down there and come back three times as big!” Rose laughed at her aunt’s words, but reflected that they really do represent the way in which many northerners view the south, and perhaps to a degree, how the south views itself.

Both of us have heard Mississippians jokingly proclaim themselves the poorest state, the fattest state, the state with the highest rates of infant mortality and the lowest rates of literacy. Whether these comments reflect a genuine sense of shame, joking indifference, or are a defense mechanism meant to keep criticism at bay, we are beginning to realize the way in which the south and southern identity exist in reaction to the view of the rest of the country- perhaps in the same way that we as Americans react to the stigma attached to our government and culture as judged and viewed from abroad.

The funny thing is, coming from Alaska, Rose could tell you a thing or two about how it feels living in the state overshadowed by the (beauty pageant winning!) figure of Sarah Palin; a state whose oil and coal saturated economy makes its living by exploiting the land of its resources.  In fact, upon reflection, Rose surmises that Alaska and Mississippi probably have more in common than one would initially think: vast tracts of rural, undeveloped land, a deep and abiding attachment to the second amendment; high rates of alcoholism, abuse and teenage parenthood. The list goes on.

When Rose’s sister, Paige, decided to spend a week of her school vacation visiting Mississippi, Rose was thrilled to introduce her to the world she was discovering. We made a list of things we wanted Paige to see and experience during her time here, including: a trip to Hattiesburg; the cemetery; southern fried EVERYTHING; excellent beer; a blues show; the Natchez Trace; the reservoir; a lazy afternoon fishing; Cool Al’s burgers; a walk through Jackson’s “urban” downtown; antebellum architecture; policemen riding horses?

We were not able to get through the entire list in one week, though we’d like to think we hit the most important things! Mostly we were happy to be able to share another side of the south: one including the positive aspects and giving at least a factual, rather than rumored, context for the negative. 

The Great Ol' Get Together of North Fairish Street