New England late winter
Now its cold! Its 15 degrees in march, and that is just wrong, says my California mind. But I am not, of course, in California anymore. I am in Northampton, Massachusetts, where I have been living since August. I was very much like many northern California folks, particularly those of us from the SF Bay Area, who quietly or not so quietly thought that other places were great to visit, but that pretty much no where else could compete for permanent residence--as long as you could stomach paying two thirds of your income to rent. Now after 6 months, and three fourths of the way through the winter, I gotta admit my former California arrogance. Yes, its cold, (and I don't like being cold) and yes, there are many things I miss about the place I call home, but you know what? Its gorgeous here.
I've never agreed that California doesn't have seasons--I love the subtle changes in Northern California and can tell the difference between the mid-fall crisp but sunny day and the early spring skin-warming glow with a still slightly chilly breeze. Nonetheless, the sheer drama of the seasons here are stunning. And since winter seems to be the longest season, I am learning about the subtle changes within these months, at least as they played themselves out this year.
November is the tricky, sometimes fall, and sometimes snowstorm time. December treats you to regular winter wonderland days but then warms up and melts it all away a few days later. January gets bitter cold and snows a lot and provides a layer of snow that hardens into an icy foundation for future powder layers. February can be described in one word: unpredictable. 8 degree days that are bright and sunny are immediately followed by 40 degree days and heavy rains, 25-30 degree stretches that include snow storms are followed by 45 degree days when it all melts.
And now, entering into March, I'm experiencing my first "late winter" phenomenon. Somehow it looks like fall a bit. The trees are putting forth these rust colored things (blossoms? leaves? What are they?) and swarms of robins brave the cold. But I know that last year the worst storms were in mid-March, and we are due a big one in a couple of days, so I may have to revise this March description once I am through it. In the meantime, its bright and sunny with blue, blue skies, but freezing at 17 degrees.
There are other interesting differences, culturally speaking, between California and Massachusetts--too many to mention, here--and differences between even the tiny states of New England. One thing that I have found that I wasn't fully expecting, is that New England is nothing like New York. This is not news to either New Yorkers or New Englanders, but the difference for me was striking after hearing everyone talk about east and west coast cultures writ large.
It is true that neither New England, nor New York (nor Washington DC, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, or New Jersey, for that matter) is like Northern California, but New York was easier for me to adjust to, and in fact the differences seem complementary to me. Some of my favorite people are transplants from NYC to SF, or from SF to NYC, and that is because the cultural combinations that result are quite lovely. But New England is a different animal. It takes more translation and work at deciphering people's modes of expression. The end result is worth it, but I often feel like a fish out of water speaking a foreign language.
The toughest thing for me to get used to here is people's general reserve. I find that with most people, I never really know how they feel about me or what I am saying. In California people are either warm and sincere, falsely warm ( or fake and sappy, in other words) or grumpy. In New York, people are how they are, but however that may be, they don't try to hide it. In New England, its more like people dole out their affection and affirmation in small and carefully guarded doses.
Its not that people aren't kind. They are. I just really have a tough time reading them. Knowing whether I am irritating someone and I ought to take my conversation elsewhere, or whether she or he is actually enjoying my company has never been more difficult! I honestly find that my intuition is less effective here than in many other countries and parts of the world much farther away from California than Massachusetts.
One last thought on this last point: people here rarely hug. Nor do they do much cheek kissing, which I find a perfectly good alternative to hugging. I am both a cheek-kisser and a hugger, depending on my cultural context, the person I'm greeting or saying goodbye to, and everyone's general comfort level. But here, people who are friends just say hi and bye with waves of the hand and no physical contact.
I was startled to find how much that affected me! I felt bereft and odd, like something had been skipped over and we were all left with the awkward tension of something un-said. After a while, I just started announcing that I was a hugger and offering hugs in at least some hello and goodbye moments. To my surprise, I found was that most people loved it! Which added to the feeling that people here are not cold and unfeeling in any way, but just slightly held back--and oh lets just say it--a little bit repressed! Now I know that California can be fake, and that people can take themselves way too seriously with very little sense of irony and extreme sensitivity, and I am not saying that repressed is any worse or better than that. But I am saying that I've noticed here, of all places, how shaped I have been my my local culture and its modes of expressions, and that I really like a good, sincere, hug and plenty of expressions of lovey, gushy, affirmation. (I have now graduated to cheek kissing with every hello and hugs only sometimes, and everyone is still going along with the plan!
This long discussion of climate, cultures, seems oddly out of place with the other things on my mind. The elections race on, full of spoken and unspoken tensions, shaped by racism, xenophobia, and misogyny. Castro has stepped down and Cuba is facing a very tenuous and unknown future. And the war rages on. Global events seem increasingly high pitched in recent weeks, but I don't know what to say about those things, so I leave you with a late winter image from western Massachusetts: This morning I walked to work and passed a previously dead looking tree now full of these strange rust and brown foliage that looks like something perfect for a dried table arrangement. And as I passed by, the tree exploded in chirping and flying as scores of fat red bellied robins sprung out of the branches and flew straight up, before circling around haphazardly and returning to their branches. Where did they come from, and where have they been all winter? And how do they keep warm with all the snow on the ground in 17 degree weather?
I'm looking forward to early spring!
I've never agreed that California doesn't have seasons--I love the subtle changes in Northern California and can tell the difference between the mid-fall crisp but sunny day and the early spring skin-warming glow with a still slightly chilly breeze. Nonetheless, the sheer drama of the seasons here are stunning. And since winter seems to be the longest season, I am learning about the subtle changes within these months, at least as they played themselves out this year.
November is the tricky, sometimes fall, and sometimes snowstorm time. December treats you to regular winter wonderland days but then warms up and melts it all away a few days later. January gets bitter cold and snows a lot and provides a layer of snow that hardens into an icy foundation for future powder layers. February can be described in one word: unpredictable. 8 degree days that are bright and sunny are immediately followed by 40 degree days and heavy rains, 25-30 degree stretches that include snow storms are followed by 45 degree days when it all melts.
And now, entering into March, I'm experiencing my first "late winter" phenomenon. Somehow it looks like fall a bit. The trees are putting forth these rust colored things (blossoms? leaves? What are they?) and swarms of robins brave the cold. But I know that last year the worst storms were in mid-March, and we are due a big one in a couple of days, so I may have to revise this March description once I am through it. In the meantime, its bright and sunny with blue, blue skies, but freezing at 17 degrees.
There are other interesting differences, culturally speaking, between California and Massachusetts--too many to mention, here--and differences between even the tiny states of New England. One thing that I have found that I wasn't fully expecting, is that New England is nothing like New York. This is not news to either New Yorkers or New Englanders, but the difference for me was striking after hearing everyone talk about east and west coast cultures writ large.
It is true that neither New England, nor New York (nor Washington DC, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, or New Jersey, for that matter) is like Northern California, but New York was easier for me to adjust to, and in fact the differences seem complementary to me. Some of my favorite people are transplants from NYC to SF, or from SF to NYC, and that is because the cultural combinations that result are quite lovely. But New England is a different animal. It takes more translation and work at deciphering people's modes of expression. The end result is worth it, but I often feel like a fish out of water speaking a foreign language.
The toughest thing for me to get used to here is people's general reserve. I find that with most people, I never really know how they feel about me or what I am saying. In California people are either warm and sincere, falsely warm ( or fake and sappy, in other words) or grumpy. In New York, people are how they are, but however that may be, they don't try to hide it. In New England, its more like people dole out their affection and affirmation in small and carefully guarded doses.
Its not that people aren't kind. They are. I just really have a tough time reading them. Knowing whether I am irritating someone and I ought to take my conversation elsewhere, or whether she or he is actually enjoying my company has never been more difficult! I honestly find that my intuition is less effective here than in many other countries and parts of the world much farther away from California than Massachusetts.
One last thought on this last point: people here rarely hug. Nor do they do much cheek kissing, which I find a perfectly good alternative to hugging. I am both a cheek-kisser and a hugger, depending on my cultural context, the person I'm greeting or saying goodbye to, and everyone's general comfort level. But here, people who are friends just say hi and bye with waves of the hand and no physical contact.
I was startled to find how much that affected me! I felt bereft and odd, like something had been skipped over and we were all left with the awkward tension of something un-said. After a while, I just started announcing that I was a hugger and offering hugs in at least some hello and goodbye moments. To my surprise, I found was that most people loved it! Which added to the feeling that people here are not cold and unfeeling in any way, but just slightly held back--and oh lets just say it--a little bit repressed! Now I know that California can be fake, and that people can take themselves way too seriously with very little sense of irony and extreme sensitivity, and I am not saying that repressed is any worse or better than that. But I am saying that I've noticed here, of all places, how shaped I have been my my local culture and its modes of expressions, and that I really like a good, sincere, hug and plenty of expressions of lovey, gushy, affirmation. (I have now graduated to cheek kissing with every hello and hugs only sometimes, and everyone is still going along with the plan!
This long discussion of climate, cultures, seems oddly out of place with the other things on my mind. The elections race on, full of spoken and unspoken tensions, shaped by racism, xenophobia, and misogyny. Castro has stepped down and Cuba is facing a very tenuous and unknown future. And the war rages on. Global events seem increasingly high pitched in recent weeks, but I don't know what to say about those things, so I leave you with a late winter image from western Massachusetts: This morning I walked to work and passed a previously dead looking tree now full of these strange rust and brown foliage that looks like something perfect for a dried table arrangement. And as I passed by, the tree exploded in chirping and flying as scores of fat red bellied robins sprung out of the branches and flew straight up, before circling around haphazardly and returning to their branches. Where did they come from, and where have they been all winter? And how do they keep warm with all the snow on the ground in 17 degree weather?
I'm looking forward to early spring!
posted by RandomWriter at 9:21 AM
1 Comments:
Now I know who you are, your that Sweet Californian that I met at the Library. God bless you miss, continue to read my blog and I will continue to read yours.I just had a meeting at City Hall and things are taking off for my project. Hopefully when your not so busy we can meet for coffee and conversation keep up the good work and keep the faith. social change in mind.
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