Americana - part one.

Apparently, I only blog once a year. It's a pattern. Oh, and it's naturally another one in which I contemplate all things American, so feel free to close this window now.

I recently (end of June) made the annual trip to the U.S. A big part of this trip was a road trip I took, all by my lonesome. I didn't stop to make a lot of pictures, so I want to put my experiences and thoughts into words. That way I won't forget.

Often enough, my trips to the States mark sort of an epiphany or turning point for me. My first trip (to Miami), was sort of a test. I'd been fascinated with the country ever since I saw a couple of fifties oriented commercials when I was twelve. I had the chance to work for Domino's Pizza in America for a couple of months in my early twenties, but messed that up because one day my temper got the best of me and I literally threw my apron in my bosses face and quit.

Fortunately, the boss I had in my late twenties basically forced me to book a last minute trip after my mentioning the US for the umpteenth time. I got on the plane and that was it. Would it be everything I thought it would be (Answer: no)? Would it all be plastic and fake, bad food and Christian fat people carrying guns (Answer: snort)? Would I still love it, like I had been doing from afar (We all know the answer to that)?

In California I realized for the first time that I could actually live in the United States and be perfectly happy. It was also the place that taught me that every single U.S. stereotype I had subconsciously been taught, had far less to do with strength in numbers than with location and deviation from European norm. All humans are xenophobe.

Georgia and Tennessee taught me that the South holds such beauty, such grace. I was met with lot of courtesy and respect for history and manners. The Southerners I came to know were friendly, funny and mostly: calm and paced. I guess living somewhere with that kind of weather will make it like that.

New York City was a personal turning point. Nearly two years after I left the Ex, in a bathroom in a sports bar two blocks from Madison Square Garden, I found that I was happy again. That I could still be my own self. That life made the promise to have so much more in store for me. NYC itself was yet another city where I fit. The real me. As was Chicago.

It is fantastic that I know so many people in the States, who welcome me to their cities and into their homes. It makes my travels possible, even - hotel costs could easily be twice the airfare. I'm still weary of 'inviting myself' - that stereotype the Dutch have that Americans never really mean it when they invite you over still tends to stick with me. Even after Sarah, Robert, Jen & Matias, Don, Shayna, Gina Marie and her aunt, Marika, John and his grandmother and his aunt and Nikki offered me a place to sleep and made good on it. I think I have finally learned, though. 'Bout time.

However, although a lot of the cities I have visited I'll want to revisit over and over, I also want to cover those fifty states I have on my bucket list. I really can't imagine right now how I will ever end up in, say, Alaska, the Dakotas or Hawaii, but I felt it was time to cover at least a bit of unchartered territory.

And I wanted to experience some Americana.

Cities feel safe and at least somewhat familiar in structure and pace. I wanted to see the open road, the dull of small rural towns, the stereotype that movies, narrow-minded European news coverage and TV feed us. So I decided to drive from Washington D.C. through Virginia, Maryland, West Virginia and Ohio to Indiana. On interstates people warned me would bore me to tears. I myself envisioned fifties-styled diners with waitresses called Flo and rodent infested motels like we see in the TV show Supernatural.

It took me surprisingly little time to get used to driving a car with an automatic transmission on the American roads. I'll admit that I didn't relax for one second when I was still making my way through downtown D.C., struggling with the turning signal of my rental car and wondering what 'YIELD' meant. But as soon as I was on the interstate 66, I found myself settling into the back of my seat. Americans know how to relax while driving. Which makes the whole affair a breeze. Let's just keep it at that.

My first stop was Jen & Matias' house in VA, where I had left my luggage. After picking that up (and half a bottle of Long Island Iced Tea which Jen had graciously left for me on the top of my duffel bag), I just entered Cincinnati in the GPS as my next destination, and would see along the way where I would stop for the night.

(Disclaimer: I'm probably going to fuck up locations and states. Feel free to correct me if you do happen to read this and know better)

Maryland and West Virginia. So beautiful. Mud slidings, waterfalls, broad stone bridges, grand accumulations of rock, wide rivers (I got tears in my eyes when I crossed the Potomac), forests as far as my eyes could see. It's hard to explain the beauty of various sites in America to people who have never been there, but there's a pretty common denominator: The Dutch are tall and live in a tiny country, with tiny cars, tiny houses - basically tiny everything except for us, the giants. We're not often confronted with how insignificant and ant-like we are, set to the backdrop of the ever expanding universe.
America is the other way around. And that makes it impossible to photograph. The entire set of the widest horizon, endless sky and forever stretching land make you so aware of the pinpoint you are. You have to be in the middle of it, to really grasp it. I felt tiny. And trust me, with my 1.85 meters I don't experience that a lot.

After the grand, wild, spacious, broad etc. landscape turned into a softer, more modest green view, I stopped to stretch my legs. When I got back on the road, I tuned the radio to a classic rock station. The London Bach Choir version of You Can't Always Get What You Want by the Rolling Stones came on. Which was my dad's favorite RS song. The version with the choir was played at his funeral.

Excuse while I get some tissues. And this is going to sound immensely sentimental, but at that moment, I was sure my dad was reaching out to me. Sitting next to me in the car. Singing and screaming along with me. I felt so happy. Filled up with a sense of belonging on that road and destination in life. Tied strongly to both my past and my future. I wonder if the people in the other cars on the road have seen me, screaming and yelling and laughing. That must have been entertaining.

At one point I had to refuel the car and myself, and I looked for an exit with a gas station. And how can you not choose the one called 'Billy's Gas 'n' Grub'? Enter my slice of Americana. Flo and the Supernatural boys are now fictional characters. What I encountered was mostly... unremarkable, at first sight. Modest. Non-descript stores, gas stations and motels with giant cars parked next to it. People dressed in shorts and brand less t-shirts, wearing baseball hats. I'm not sure what I expected, but except for scale and landscape and hats, they could have been the inhabitants of the provincial Netherlands.

Except for one slight but important distinction: they weren't gloomy. It's not like all Americans aspire to go from paperboy to millionaire. Yet, there is a satisfaction and possibility in their eyes. Even when they complain about their favorite topics (the government, the price of gas and sports), they're not bitter about it. They don't expect other people to fix their problems for them. And they're not necessarily looking for change, but they believe change is still a possibility. 'This is my life. Even when I'm born into shit, I'm taking that fucker by the horns and make the best of it'. Americans are probably the least cynical people I have met.

As far as that price of gas goes: I laugh. Cheapest tank of gas I ever got.

(let's make this two installments, shall we? The kid demands some attention)

I found something I never got around to posting.

Was 2009 good for you?
First reaction to this question: HAHAHAHAHAHA. Dude.
On second thought: yes, it was. Christmas 2008, I didn't recognize myself. I didn't know myself anymore. I was at the end of the world and didn't know which way to go for the life of me. Now? I've done everything with my life I was afraid of and swore I never would, but I'm still here and it's me again. I'm a sleep deprived single mom who has developed an unhealthy taste for trashy novels, but I'm laughing again. I'm typing this in a new home, looking at my completely content son who is playing with his alphabet puzzle and I don't have to worry about the moment being ruined in the wake of alcohol. In short, 2009 has been a complete bitch to me, but it also kicked my ass into gear. And god knows it needed that.

What was your favorite moment of the year?
When the kid said "I love you, mommy", for the first time.

What was your worst moment of the year?
February 7 I drove away from a dream that got drowned in liquor. It was the only choice left, but it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Ever.

Where were you when 2009 began?
In The Hague, with my friend Ellis.

Who were you with?
Like I said - my rock, Ellis.

Where were you when 2009 ended?
I'm going to be in The Hague again... with Ellis... and a couple of the best neighbors anyone could ever wish for.

Did you keep your new years resolution of 2009?
I

Do you have a new years resolution for 2010?

Did you fall in love in 2008?
I fell out of it.

Did you breakup with anyone in 2008?
Yeah, you could say that.

Did you make any new friends in 2008?
Yes, yet again! Friends rule all. I guess I'm not a complete failure after all.

What was your favorite month of 2008?
July

Why this month?
The Band.

Did you travel outside of the US (or your home country) in 2009?
France & Italy. I drove through Belgium. That all sounds boring as hell, but it really was not.

How many different places did you travel to in 2009?
Paris, Lucca, Florence, the airport in Pisa. I was supposed to go to Naples - but let's not dwell on that disaster.

Did you miss anybody in the past year?
My dad. My dad. My dad. Dad, I miss you so much. My foreign friends. Yannick whenever he's not here.

What was your favorite song from 2009?
Lost - Coldplay. Just because I'm losing, doesn't mean I'm lost. Thank you for that life saver, Chris.

How many concerts or plays did you see in 2009?
Uh... Lemme think. There were a couple of DMB shows, and Beth Hart, and Blof, and Coldplay, and Kings of Leon, and Milow. No plays.

Did you have a favorite concert in 2009?
It's a tie between Lucca and Amsterdam (DMB - as if you didn't know). I think Amsterdam might win. Especially in the category: Comfortable.

What was your favorite book in 2009?
I refuse to answer that.

Did you do anything you are ashamed of this year?
Yes.

What was the biggest lie you told in 2009?
"I'm fine".

Did you treat somebody badly in 2009?

Did somebody treat you badly in 2009?
let’s not go there.

What was your proudest moment of 2009?
Standing up for me. Like, really standing up for me. For once.