It was time. I stepped out of the Indiana airport, and a cool breeze swept past me as I took in my surroundings. Little did I know this was a foreshadowing of life in Indiana, where dreary wet days, bitterly frigid wind and knee-high frosty snow were the norm. Having grown up in a city that experienced year-round summers, I was in for the shock of my life when the first snow fell.
After hauling suitcases stocked with my entire wardrobe, shoe collection and lifetime supply of books, my family and I embarked on the drive to Upland, the tiny town I would call “home” for the next four years. As we sped past cars on the highway, I gazed out the window, fascinated by the small towns we passed by. I scoffed at their buildings and signs, ridiculing the humble establishments they had set up.
Since I did not make the effort to Google “life in Indiana,” the only connection I made to it was the movie character Indiana Jones. Yet, I was somehow convinced it would be similar to New York City. I entertained visions of myself living the glamorous life, sipping lattes at a classy cafe in the afternoon, and watching people stroll past, going about their day.
No doubt I was in for a rude awakening. Not only was I in foreign territory, I was also about to be immensely disappointed. As the Global Positioning System (GPS) informed us we were nearing our destination, my brows furrowed in confusion. Was not Upland supposed to be a huge metropolis, a bustling place filled with all kinds of interesting people? Why were there only farms and fields, with the occasional cow grazing next to horses? A sense of apprehension crept up on me.
The GPS must be wrong, I decided. There was no way I could live in the countryside for the next four years! But, the emotionless, computerized voice soon uttered the words I dreaded to hear: “You have reached your destination.” I gaped at my surroundings in astonishment and dismay. Most college students would be thrilled to step onto campus and plunge into their first day of orientation, but all I could think was, “There aren't any malls here!”
Where were the huge crowds? What was I supposed to do for fun? The town was like a deserted wasteland, and the only thing it seemed to possess in abundance was fields and fields of corn. My first impulse was to snatch the car keys from my dad, jump into the front seat and speed back to the airport, but then I remembered I did not know how to drive.
Simply put, my dreams were instantly crushed. Gone were the fantasies of living the glitzy, jet-setting city lifestyle. The lump in my throat kept growing as I realized this would be a challenge of monstrous proportions. It was a whole new world, one I was unfamiliar with, and quite honestly, reluctant to accept.
I longed for the hustle and bustle of the city, but I was here. I had to put an end to my complaining and welcome my new life. So I did, albeit with some hesitation. As time passed, I grew to embrace life in the countryside. Yes, Upland was as different from the city as you could get, but there was a unique and charming quality about it, something remarkable that set it apart from anything I could have imagined.
Slowly, I adapted. I battled the biting cold with my five layers of clothes, scarves and hats, I discovered the senselessness of trying to predict the ever-changing weather, I learned the benefits of making friends with people who had cars, I experienced getting lost in corn mazes, and I adapted to the smell of skunk in the car. Most of all, I appreciated the beauty of friendship, because when there was nothing to do, the alternative was spending quality time with some of the greatest people I have ever met.
On hindsight, I would have read up more on Upland before arriving. But if I had, I would have never made it to this little town and come face to face with a life changing experience. I have learned to embrace the beauty of nature, to simply sit and gaze in awe at the splendor of creation. There is a kind of peace and tranquility about the countryside, which gives me a sense of serenity I have never experienced before. City life is vastly different from country life, but both are just as amazing.
Now, when I glance out my window and see the pure blanket of snow gracefully spread out over the grass, a sense of wonder overwhelms me, and I am thankful to call Upland my home, at least for now.
-Just thought I would share a personal narrative piece I wrote for class that I'm including in my portfolio :)
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