EAST MEETS WEST part 1

EAST MEETS WEST (and who won...) Sept 2007

So what we missed the bonfire! For twenty years we had enjoyed the 4th of July small New England town extravaganza. Created on our common, a pile of wood, two stories high, plus hot dog and popcorn stands, adorable little children wearing glow in the dark jewelry, dog poop and lots of mosquitoes.

The other option was to take a road trip to the West Coast in a brand new car sponsored by our daughter who was temporarily relocating there. We were to pay for the gas and split the cost of hotels.

After a long thoughtful discussion, the bonfire lost to El Estado Dorado (The Golden State) or the Sunny state of “Calyfornia” to mimic the Austrian born governor.

Oh well, there will be others…

The plan was to make it there in less than a week and fly back on July 4th. The rules; no driving after dark, we eat one meal at a restaurant per day, cat stays in Boston.
We surprised our friends by choosing the Southern route instead of driving through Colorado but the desert in July seemed so much more attractive to us. I think “challenging” is the right word.

So, on June 24th we packed Karolina’s TV, desk top computer, laptop, load of summer clothes, string of shoes and two pounds of make up.
The crew: dad, mom and one un-domestic diva that also goes by the name “Precious Polish Princess.” Means of transportation: a Honda Fit …in
orange. The crew is also known as the Fantastic Four, minus one; the youngest Francis stayed behind to represent Poland at the Heifer International Annual Fair and opted for the U-20 Soccer World Cup in Montreal, Canada.
That way his sister could pack more shoes.

In three days we made it to Santa Rosa, New Mexico. Zooming through New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Tennessee, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas.

First stop in Roanoke, VA, Motel 8, friendly service although no restaurants besides Subway. Next morning, everyone wanted to know if we had a good night, and since we experienced a thunder storm the previous evening, a nice lady at breakfast in the lobby shared her reflections, wasn’t that something! It was one of several storms that we encountered; the best was still ahead of us. Tourists with plates from Southern states seem to be more open, friendlier; maybe they just lead simpler lives and have less on their minds. It
takes a while to figure out what they are saying, but when you do, what you hear is often something very pleasant.

Somewhere between Springfield, MA and Scranton, PA, we set up another rule: whoever is driving would control the CD player, so, I assumed that all the way, we may listen to more of British Arctic Monkeys, less of Alaskan Jewel and somewhere between maybe Brazilian Ive Mendes and Simply Red.

It was Karolina’s car but two of us soon realized that it was a stupid rule because it allowed Karolina to play trance music. What were we thinking?

We also learned that people in Knoxville, Tennessee are incredibly nice, I mean old-fashion nice and I mean everybody. Lunch at Macalister’s, great sandwiches, coffee and “sweet tea”, key lime pie, all for $26. Did I mention free refills?
It was hot but all the ladies looked like from a Talbot’s catalog.

The next stop was outside of Memphis, since we zoomed through Nashville in the heavy rain. I was the driver but no music made me happy. In Memphis we left the hotel after 20 min when Jacek noticed too many “We are not responsible for any lost belongings left in your car” signs (there must have been a reason for it) and I discovered remains of Chex cereal and some blood stains on my pillow.

We kept driving. Hours later, after settling comfortably in the bed of some motel in Arkansas, I checked the name of the town on Karolina’s laptop, just to find out that it does not exist; Heth is a truck stop. We wondered about the hordes of mosquitoes that soon entered our room until I remembered the
sign that I saw while checking in, in a hurry. “Due to the fact that we are in the area of rice fields, we have an enormous count of mosquitoes, please keep your door shut while unloading.” What rice fields?
I wouldn’t have known that if I didn’t leave New England. In the bathroom, what we thought was a cockroach turned out to be a dead grasshopper.

There were 5 channels on TV, but as long as it had wi-fi connection, our daughter assured us it was fine.
We watched some show called “Nanny” about a woman with a Polish last name who could not restrain her children after her husband’s death so she hired professional help. I looked at my own offspring; she was totally restrained, by…wireless connection.

At night the invasion began. Till the morning I lost quite an amount of blood but I learned that …there are rice fields in Arkansas, did YOU know that? Ahhh, see… you need to get out more, travels educate.
Smooth sailing through Arkansas and Oklahoma, lots of reading on both sides of highway 40, “Needed: drivers, Jesus and you!” or “You call it abortion, God calls it murder.” Both, churches and Adult Centers advertising to lure its adherents. The most popular bumper sticker said, “I “heart” evangel temple – Forth Smith.”
In Clinton 9,000 people are served by 24 churches, on the billboard there is room for… 6 more.

Tranced-up Karolina drove through Little Rock and revealed her theory for buying a small car “Listen, the reason for buying a small car is that I have more room to mess up.” Get it?

Somewhere in Oklahoma, I made this observation in our journal; “If someone has a small car, it is towed behind.”
The conclusion: people here do not mess around. The billboards screamed with “Rolexes” and… miniature donkeys.
They have vineyards there too as billboards promise “Just like Napa Valley but closer.”

We were almost at the end of Oklahoma and had did not seen anybody from Massachusetts yet. Roads aren’t great, where we come from, we see a lot of “Road work for the next 10 miles,” here it’s “Keep our Land Grand.” At the end of construction it said: ”Sorry for the inconvenience,” where we come from it would be “drive at your own risk!”

More than several times we were reminded “Keep Oklahoma beautiful.”
And so we did.


We also left some serious floods in Oklahoma City and later in Amarillo, TX only to find out about them the following day by watching TV in a hotel room.

Best sight so far, Weatherforth, tens of wind turbines. If Germany is leading in the number of wind turbines, Oklahoma must be right after that.
At first, from a distance one looked like a miniature toy, and as we were approaching it, more and more popped up on the horizon. They became larger in scale, enormous; now we were the miniature toy car against the wind turbine forest.

Being under this great impression, I missed the WELCOME TO TEXAS sign, but regardless could tell we were in a different state, from then on the Rest Areas were called “picnic areas.”

Soon we got stuck in traffic in Amarillo, listened to some good music on local stations, lots of money gram commercials in Spanish.
For several long minutes we were forced to stare at that tiny door at the back of the 18-wheeler, finally I said, “It’s probably to smuggle illegal aliens, that’s where they come out.” At this point our completely bored daughter, in
this very serious voice explained, separating each word, “It’s where they put the load into, mother.” We looked at the size of the truck and then the size of that tiny door and burst into laughter “Do you know how much time they would need to fill up the whole trailer? And who’s retarded?” I responded.

Only minutes after a kid from Maryland with an Afro next to us, had hangers up to his roof, probably on the way to college. I suggested to Karolina that she should wave to him one of her hangers, to which she, back then, replied, “That’s retarded.”

Next was New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, and California.

After two nights at not so nice hotels, our daughter treated us to comfy beds at, what else, Comfort Inn, great breakfast included. Outside the hotel room, a moonlike landscape, I realized how far we were from home.
I was drawn to New Mexico for several reasons, Bill Richardson being one. The state’s (Roman Catholic) governor was invited by our daughter’s college to speak at her graduation. It was quite a speech, but Richardson himself actually graduated from the college that our son is in.
It was enough coincidences for me to buy his biography. He possesses a quality that president Bush lacks completely, diplomacy. When asked about the size of Poland, I often explain by comparing it to New Mexico, as they are supposed to be equal. So, I thought I better find out about the stuff that I preach.

Santa Fe’s Cathedral Basilica of St Francis of Assisi (first established in 1610) was on our list. Spectacular bronze doors were installed in 1986 on the 100th anniversary of the dedication of the Cathedral, also the year when our son Francis was born. One of the windows on the main street had a nice display of Art of Poland, Polish pottery. Souvenir shops full of Native American art as well as… “Mom, why are there so many Israeli insignia here?” Hm, that’s a good question.

A road north from Santa Fe lead us to Ojo Caliente spa hot springs where, besides fancy packages for couples, for $16 per person from 8am to 10pm you can use 5 different mineral pools; iron pool, soda pool, mud pool, I forgot what pool and arsenic pool, all sounded so tempting. Temperature ranging from 80-109F. On one side a mountain surrounds the spa. Around the property you are reminded by discrete signs here and there not to talk but whisper.
At the heart of the courtyard there is a Lithia spring and historic pump used since the 19th century. Lithium is known to heal depression so the spa residents call it a happy spring. You see a lot of happy people walking around filling jars and plastic containers.

For an extra $10 you can get relaxation wrap; first they will soak you in geothermal waters, then wrap you into light cotton blanket, then a wool blanket, which “accelerates the release of toxins from you body.“ As you lay in this warm relaxing cocoon, Native American flute music is played softly in the background. Other options, body “buffering” with borax crystals, essential oils, lime and tangerine. Sure, whatever, just bring more of that happy water, I’ll take anything…

Originally Taos was not a part of our plan but… someone said that the best things in life come unexpected. We actually arrived to Ojo Caliente the previous evening when the sky was getting unpleasantly dark and clouds were gathering above, not a welcoming sign. We needed to look for a hotel and decided to come back the next morning, Taos was recommended although our GPS displayed a 60 mile long route there. But the GPS did not tell us that the first 20 miles were unpaved! Still it was the best route ever…
I guess you have to take it at the right time of the day and the season to enjoy all the colors and shades.

Of all shades of brown and red, majestic mountains set against the blues of the sky and disappearing sun. And the only way to tell there must be a homestead somewhere up there is a skinny gate with a driveway a mile long. The sunset was incredible, the evening wind blew and the grass waved, ocean of bright green grass. Somewhere from time to time, a small …junkyard popped up, just so, in the middle of a field. The road was empty; we did not pass a car for miles. It was the most beautiful road. And then we saw it! The Rio Grande Gorge! The next minute we stood 650 feet above it. Breathtaking? You bet! And very peaceful. Place. Ever since I watched Western movies, I knew that if I had the chance that I would cross the Rio Grande. See, in the movies, when they crossed it, you knew that they made it, it was always in the movies and that was the thing, the main goal for the guys. Either they were searching for something or chased by.

In this beautiful setting, we found Taos. A ski valley, laid back kind of town, with plenty of attractions.

The most popular is probably Taos Pueblo, 150 families living in an adobe community, the oldest continuously inhabited community in the US. The adobe buildings date to 1000 to 1450 A.D, Catholicism is practiced there.
You can take a 130 mile long day trip, on a train, riding across Rio Grande on the country’s second highest bridge.

The main street of Taos are lined with little shops and galleries that attract tourists all year around.

Best Western treated us to Indian dancing. A typically family-operated business, grandpa on the drums, grandkids and “Jose” performing. The three-year-old sensation drew the most applause.
Picturesque road from Taos continued.
Did I mention that we left 440 acres of forest fire behind us?

This time we took a different road back to Albuquerque.
Here we were able to put our feet into the Rio Grande, right next to passing rafts. Looking for a shortcut to Ojo Caliente, our GPS directed us to turn right onto the …hanging bridge. And I swear it looked as if it was made of wood or even rope. I wouldn’t walk on it, even with a safety net below it, forget driving. The satellite spotted it but did anybody actually come to check it out?

On Thursday, we made it to Arizona, that’s where advertisements for casinos, and petrified wood started. After a while I realized that if it weren’t for the meteor that hit the area, some 20 000 years ago, there wouldn’t be anything to show the tourists. And I’m not sure about those dinosaurs in paper machér. Dinosaur fossils, second after the meteor natural attraction.

In Phoenix, we stayed with a friend from Massachusetts. Sean had a dog, she liked us the first day, the second, she changed her mind so when we went for a day trip to Sedona, Jacek went to some fancy shmancy dog store and bought gourmet dog biscuits to bribe the dog. He bought us ice cream.
Sedona did not impress me maybe because it is, for my taste, too commercialized. The Red Rock’s natural beauty is without doubt, but too many people want to make a buck off it, an allegedly highly spiritual place. But why, why, why, all those Tommy Hillfiger, Gap and Ann Taylor shops there? The great idea? mist-ers… a misting system above your head, as you walk from one ridiculously expensive store to another. On a hot day, a life saver.
The road to Sedona was terrible, the height, the traffic, the way back just as bad. That evening in Phoenix, I visited my childhood friend, we had not seen each other since 1985. She and her sisters all settled in Arizona, I moved to Massachusetts. I was hoping that after all those years, she was fat and ugly, no such luck, she was fit and gorgeous…
But the dog biscuits worked and we did not leave any disasters this time.

In order to make it to California according to schedule, I had to MISS THE PRESSCOT RODEO!!!! I can’t believe they did this to me! The country’s oldest!! I was by myself against two maniacs; they made me chose between the rodeo and the Grand Canyon!

So we got back on the highway, driving Historic Rte 66 for a while, a cardboard cut out James Dean on the left, the Roadkill Café on the right. Passing through Indian reservations, wild horses, cattle, a man on motorcycle “On the way to LA”, finally… the Joshua Tree Forest.
We entered the holy land of Hualapai Tribe, the Grand Canyon and the Skywalk was next….