A couple of weeks ago I wrote an article at TheHighCalling.org about discovering I was a foreigner.This week, we decided to launch a community writing project inviting others to tell their own stories of crossing cultures. I wrote the introductory post, which begins:
My parents tell me I was about four years old, dancing down the sidewalk, on the lookout for a hippie.Apparently my older brother announced that he had seen a hippie, so I raised a fuss about wanting to see one, as well. It was the early 1970s, so you’d think hippies would be commonplace, but we lived in a conservative Midwestern town where cultural trends developed slowly.Fortunately, we were visiting the college campus where my parents met—a location that held much more hippie-spotting potential than our hometown—and they told me what a male hippie might look like: long hair, a beard, maybe sandals or bare feet…….continued at TheHighCalling.org.
I remember the first time I saw two men holding hands. And they were hippies.
Well, now, that definitely counts as crossing cultures. Did you point at them and shout? That’s what I did to the guy with long hair that I spotted near the pizzeria.
Of course, I was only four years old.
Well, I was just about to ask if I could link up my story that I wrote to correspond with your post, and then David just reminded me of another story from the first summer I lived in Maine and ate “kahn” (corn) and “chawda” (chowder). I also saw two men holding hands, actually LOTS of men holding hands. And they weren’t hippies. Plus, I met my first alcoholic. Well, the first alcoholic that wasn’t related to me and was in AA, that is. Maybe I should write about that summer!
Love this idea.
Oh, Charity, absolutely head over to Dena’s to link up your Portugal post, and if you have time and inspiration, I would LOVE to hear about your time in Maine! I’ve never been there, but I do love “kahn chawda.”
Too funny. My parents were also very conservative in the 70’s — I can totally relate to the “hippy watch” — headed over to THC to read the rest.
woops! Hippie or Hippy? Time to go to bed.
These days, as a 40+ year old woman, I’m still on a “hippy watch.” Time to exercise!
Obviously none of you people are from Austin, Texas. I grew up with hippies everywhere. I thought tatts and piercings and organic food were normal–30 years ago. All lifestyles were on display at Zilker Park or along the Hike & Bike Trail. When I grew up and went to college and found out that some cities were actually conservative, I was shocked.
Keep Austin Weird.
So…those of us from the conservative towns were to you the “foreigners,” right? 😉