15. Summer in El Big

Patriotic egg farmers at the itty-bitty farmer's market...

Archaic patriarchal religious groups that sell voluptuous cinnamon rolls...



The cabbage table...

Honey sold from the neighbor's front porch.

Hal's 24 Flavors attracts visitors from every little town east of the mountains...

Drive-In movie theater!

Bison ranges! Fresh ground bison burger now available at the El Big Safestway meat section...

This is the kind of town that recruits a lot of young men for the military. I am surprised by the sheer number of yellow ribbons on every tree, lightpost and standing structure in town. Every car has at least two of them on their bumpers...








Pristine mountain lakes...

...and naughty fishermen.

A 5 minute drive to DQ. Life is good!

14. Our First Big Month in Town

Today's Culture Shock Level is: DANGEROUSLY HIGH

My jaw drops every time I leave our apartment. Every day regular activities of my fellow El Bigians stop me in my tracks. I can't sketch or take photos fast enough, and I'm self conscious about doing so. The loss of the anonymity that I had in SF is disconcerting. I've been in town for a few weeks and my culture shock hasn't died down at all. At this point I can't imagine how it ever will. I ask Que to take special note of this time and ask me how I'm doing in a year...



The locals continue to stare at us like we have three heads. The hardest part is trying not to stare back at them.

Que's photographic highlights from the Summer festival...

The man in the large rigg is trying to ride over the wheels of the small rigg. The woman driving the smaller rigg darts ahead 20 feet, and they repeat it all over again.

Click on photo to see the grin on the cowboy's face.


Where's Waldo?

Mennenights at the Quilt Show

Quiltin' cowboy
***

Pretty detail on the street lights on the main avenue.

A recently rennovated apartment on the south side of town.

"20 tans for 36.00 dollars!"
A window sticker on an apartment window...

Unlike California ruralites who enjoy wearing military styles, El Bigians wear an attractive cammoflouge created from Photoshop images of leaves and sticks. You often see people wearing cammo out at dinner, shopping, or hanging out with friends at the cafe...

There is a big bronze scene in the El Big valley. One nearby town boasts of international fame for it's artist foundries. We walk down the main street and spot huge bronze sculptures--all with varying degrees of skill and talent--placed in every open space available. There's no escaping them. Here is a snapshot of an enormous painted bronze bald eagle on the outskirts of town...

Wide selections of fancy Western belt buckles...


Thank God.

13. The Apartment with a View

While Que is busy getting settled into his new job, I spend time setting up our apartment.

I wake early every morning, make coffee, enter a few notes into a diary, and watch the sunrise to hit the hillsides outside our 7th floor apartment.


The summer cloud shows are exceptional. "Cumulous mediocres" keeps me entertained throughout the day. I am excited about the prospect of plein air painting and suddenly wonder if this is where [sic]Thomas Cinkaide gets his inspiration.

12. How small is very small?

Today's Culture Shock Level is: RAPIDLY BUILDING

I can't get over the smallness of this place...
The locals like it that way. Since 1900, the population has fluctuated between 12,000 to 12,500, depending on whether the small college is in session.


In example...Que and I are seated in a window of the High Road Cafe, a cafe on the main avenue. The coffee is weak by San Francisco standards, but they serve homemade sesame bagels. Our conversation drifts to errands. Que needs to pick up some work clothes and I need to find some curtain ties. I mention that I saw a grass green Pandolton look-a-like shirt in the window of the department store across the street from our apartment. (the only dept store in town). Just as I'm describing it, a lone, middle aged man walks by our window. He is wearing a grass green Pandolton-like shirt. The shirt is so new that I can see the original creases in the arm.

11. 97 degrees Indoors

It's 97 degrees in our apartment. Que is now working full time. I'm afraid I'll get heat stroke so I decide to venture out and see the air conditioned parts of town.

I go shopping at the local [sic]Safestway food market. Besides the lack of produce varieties and the endlesss throngs of tan, gay men in bicycle shorts chatting each other up in the aisles, the store is almost identical to my old neighborhood S'way food market in San Francisco. Even the layout for the natural food section is in the exact same spot. I practically jump for joy when I see that they sell lemongrass. (The closet big town with aThai restaurant is a two hour drive into another state)

Most of the grocery shoppers seem to be truckdrivers or dudes on their lunch break from the lumber mill. I feel a bit uncomfortable from the unsolicited attention in the bread isle. I look down at my casual California style summer clothes--a brightly colored bare shouldered t-shirt, clam diggers and sandals. In retrospect I realize that I am probably showing a lot more than they are used to seeing from the average local woman in El Big.

Click on above image to see lack of anything green.
***
Later that night, Que and I try to decide to try Mountain Bear's Pizza for dinner.The mushrooms are canned but the pizza is delicious. The place fills up with lumber mill workers with their enormous families. The men wear filthy overalls and caps and the women wear toe-to-ankle tent dresses. Que comments on how young they seem. We play a guessing game and try to figure out which families belongs to which church...

After dinner, we drive 10 minutes north to the sprawling part of town. I have my first mega superstore Val*mart shopping experience. It's much trashier than I expect. We shop for curtains, clothes hangers and an air conditioner. Everything is shockingly inexpensive. I beg Que to buy me the Val*mart emerald...

Again, I take note on how the local folk seem to enjoy staring at us...

A talking/ singing deer head.

Decorations on the wall above the Hunting/ Fishing License counter. This deer cannot sing "I Heard It Through The Grape Vine".
I feel my culture shock taking root.

10. Weedwhackers n' gingham

Que and I make plans so I can see the grounds of his new place of employment. I am surpised that it takes less than 5 minutes to drive there from downtown. I pass by several churches and old charming suburban homes...


Out of the corner of my eye I spot a young woman standing on the garden slope of a 50's era row house. She is dressed in a prairie style gingham gown and bonnet and wielding garden machinery. I look closer and see that she is whirring away with what looks like a Weedwhacker. I almost crash....

That afternoon I go home and do a search for "Mennenights". [sic]

9. "It'll get hectic-"

That evening Que and I walk one block down to the main avenue to buy some cables at the Radio Shak (which doubles as a 99 cent store. Most businesses seem to have a 2nd business within.) Que strikes up a conversation with the young, toothless salesman in a bad suit. "So, you're not from around here, are ya? Welcome. Well, just you wait..." His has an omninous tone in his gentle drawl. "...it'll change here in town..." He gives us a knowing nod. "It'll 'get hectic-you know, once the students return in a month or so."
Hectic? It's hard to imagine. This town seems to move as if it's encased in molasses.

8. Our Arrival

Only 56 miles to my new home!

We pass through many small road bump towns. I start to get an overwhelming feeling I haven't had before. I experience my first big whallop of culture shock about 30 minutes from our valley. What in the hell are we doing?!

The terrain is beautiful and strange and full of road signs for fossil beds.


After driving through miles of desert, we start climbing up again.. I'm pleasantly surprised by the sight of pines and snaking, clear rivers. El Big is a basically located on a huge, pine covered plateau--a valley completely surrounded by high mountain desert.



We pull into town around noon. The Farmer's market in the town square is still buzzing, so we stop and grab a couple of surprisingly authentic tamales; drag our tired selves up to our empty apartment and toast to El Big.