Not only Southern Immersion, but a real skinny dip!

I arrived in Hartsville during a gorgeous sunset, and found the school no problem thanks to the lady. Pleased that it was Valentine's Day, and Mariya had no plans for a date, and finally accepting that I was in a real dorm, just like any other, I realized it was going to be a crazy night.

Of course there is no need to impart to y'all the majesty of inter-dorm relations, dramas, and alignment of menstrual cycles, but I was in it, and I am grateful for the guides I had. Mariya and her compatriots of Hartsville gave me the local tour, and excused me (not evenhandedly, but enough) for my loose lips. I took for granted their politeness, and made a joke about Christians. Using an expletive. And was still confused when Mariya gave me the big eyes to warn me of my transgression. I thought maybe the local pastor was sitting behind her. Nope, some things just aren't funny.

No matter how inconvenient the blue laws are, don't blame the Christians. Oops!

Most interesting this evening, I'm of course still processing the social and gendered dynamics of the bar, but for now my thoughts are that I might as well have spoken a different language, because in the Dirty Dirty, as Mariya calls the region, I really am a foreigner. I have an accent, I don't remember the customs very well, I don't have the vocabulary down, and I must be careful with my mouth.

After dinner we had a few you-tube moments and went out to Max's, a small joint full of regulars with great music on the juke box. My hostesses knew everyone, mostly, and I love that. Immediately some guy bought us all a round, expecting nothing in return, and I soon came to see that depending on who you ask, you may or may not be charged for the drink. One thing I love about South Carolina is the move to reduce drunk driving inspired the nip movement. Only nips are permissable to serve at bars, and that's silly. But this place had no official employees, because sometimes Jeremy would make my drink and charge me, and sometimes some other guy who was randomly behind the bar would take my order, and not care about the money at all, because he was as much a customer as I, but with balls. The evening passed in this manner, watching, trying to understand the dramas unfolding, or the courtships accepted or refuted. Here is where my processing resides: the courtship process. I didn't understand why I was being rude, but Mariya helped me understand that a woman should be grateful a man is speaking to her, so to blow off a drunken stranger is still rude, and I also learned that politics and religion is either not a woman's place or COMPLETELY OFF-LIMITS, the latter of which I learned about by making such a faux-pas. And these are of course generalizations but they are based in experience, and of course social interactions will be observed and executed more acutely whilst imbibing. Still, maybe I'm exaggerating, but you get the point, and I'll discuss this more the more I experience.

Oh to be back in college again. Working out five to seven times a week, trying desperately to read interesting assignments and develop personal arguments in response, immersed in a huge dating pool of people discovering themselves and passions. I never want to go back, but man, what a time that was, eh?

I didn't do much else there because it was midweek and I was excited to see Charleston and although I hear that the flowers are beautiful, I was too early for them. I parted with that glimpse at nostalgia, and hit the road.

p.s. Thanks to Anju I have pictures up of my NYC visit now.