The Trip Home

For the past few years, every time I come home to Louisiana, I am reminded of what a foreigner I am (and really always was).  It's like I have a big sign on me that suggests it would be a good idea to pick on me.  Last year, a lady in the gas station in Thibodaux said "you're not from here, are you?  you're not, um, complete."  I still have no idea what she was telling me by telling me I wasn't complete, but I basically took it as a compliment.  I assume it meant something to the effect of not being a complete coon ass (i.e. cajun).

Today, I was caught off guard because I was called out in the major (um, okay, minor) metropolis of Baton Rouge...and at the Good Year tire place of all places.  I jumped out of the shower and didn't bother drying my hair because I was going to get the oil changed in my sister's car.  I forgot that in south Louisiana that means you have to put on make up, do your hair, and it would be a good idea to get your nails done while your car is being worked on so that you look even better when you pick the car up.  Well, I showed up at Good Year with my hair wet, and all three men working behind the counter started asking me if I got caught in the rain or if this was a new hair style.  And I was like what are you talking about?  And they, pointed to my hair, and I was like, um, "it's called a shower."  They laughed, and I was confused.  I'm thinking, um, I'm pretty sure that the nickname for people who work at Good Year is grease monkey, and since when are you questioning my appearance?!  Only here.  Seriously.

I share this story because it is so absurd, and also because people are always asking me about the differences between Louisiana and everywhere else.  Most of the deep differences are encapsulated in moments like these when the way people communicate with one another in public is fraught with assumptions about gender, class, race, heritage, etc. that are highlighted by people who are just handing you french fries or selling you beer.  It makes the south endearing in a lot of ways because people do take a moment to notice that you are a person and not another number or something like that.  But it is interactions like these that make this area hard to maintain relevancy in a postmodern and pluralistic world we live in today.