Country Road

So I went to my first interview of the season. It was quite a trip actually. Going there, since I left after work (bad idea, stuck in back to back traffic for 2 hours) meant that I soon found myself on the country road in pitch blackness. Just to spice things up, God sprinkled in some gusts of wind and some rain. To keep my windshield from fogging up, I had to blast AC at the windshield so I was freezing to death. My favorite radio station, NPR, was becoming more and more staticky as I race towards the desolate, unmanned wild wild west virginia and I very sadly turned off the dial at last. I had my friend Wendy to keep me company on the phone for a good part of the trip, but at some point, my phone completely lost signal and then it was just pure silence. It was just me, on the road, under the pouring rain, in the dark and freezing cold. Is that a bleak enough picture for ya? The sum total of which resulted in me speeding at the unwise speed of 85-90 mph in my desperation to get to my cozy inn for the night. I even reflected ruefully how I missed being stuck in traffic, because, well, traffic = civilization.

Alright, let me get to the juice of the story. So the school was really nice. I liked the facilities, all brand new and sparkly, nice and clean. Any older buildings have been renovated. The classrooms are all up to par technologically, as far as my untrained eyes could tell. Two not so great things: lack of student housing and lack of a cafetaria. Does that mean if I go to this school, I would have to actually MAKE my own lunch? Such a profoundly disturbing thought.

The people at the school were cool. They were very very nice, prattling on and on about pleasant little tidbits, perhaps in a way that urban people, abrupt, brusque and impatient creatures that we tend to be, are not used to. But they all clearly meant well and seemed genuine. At the very least, the faculty and adminstrative people at the school don't seem to be so provincial that they haven't ever seen "one of those Oriental folks" before. That was the feeling I got while I was stuffing my face at Shoney's with their decidely underwhelming breakfast buffet. Two women sitting diagonally from me kept turning and very obviously I might add, looking at me repeatedly. Now I am not an unreasonable person. I'm decently attractive to warrnat perhaps the attention of heterosexual men, but I'm not so extraordinary in any way to warrant extended and repeated craning of necks just to have a "looksee".

Finally, not being able to stand it any longer, I just smiled at them a bit quizzically, but still politely. Then one of the women said, "you look like my sister in law." Pause. "She's from Thailand." Other woman nods vigorously, "Just like Dina." I thought about giving her the stony asian face as my acknowledgement. But I managed to choke up a "Really?" and then went back to munching my bacon, somewhat put out. I'm sure, I'm SURE, I can be a stand in double for her sister in law. Perhaps we were separated at birth? Perhaps we were all cloned somewhere in a small factory in Asia. Okay okay, maybe I'm being too hard on them. I have no right to barge into their country lives and then expect them not to be, well, country.

Anyhoo, the interview itself went alright. I had three ppl simultaneously. I was nervous at the beginning and was probably less than impressive in my stammered responses. But after awhile, I managed to relax and just be myself and I even found myself talking about Brokeback Mountain (which I immediately regretted, but that was the movie that came to mind and they asked me what film I liked) But when I explained the reasons for why I like the film, the interviewer seemed satisfied, or at least, he understood. In any case, he later on told me that I did a good job, which was reassuring.

The trip back was less eventful. The weather was nice, I was not freezing and the rolling hills at the side of the road provided a beautiful visage. I was impressed, despite all my inner urban snobbery, with the scenery and the natural beauty of the landscape.