Travel to the City

In my few travels throughout the Chicago and midwestern landcape thus far, Im taken aback by its extremes. This is the America that I have read about.

This is the America that international travelers are both attracted to, and revile in the same breath. The city is an amazing rush of contemporary architecture and history, and every building is a collosal finding. Along the riverway and Lake Michigan, the coast is towering with new geometrical contraptions that house thousands of residents. Layed out in an expansive patch work of sorts, Chicago is a bustling city knit together through small neighborhoods. Every weekend is cause for thousands to flock to various parts of the city simultaneously, and celebrate the sunshine. Gourmet, ethnic and city fast food combine with a heavy dose of roots in Blues, Gospel and contemporary World music to make everyday a celebration.

As a massive architectural and industrial city, it both glistens in the sunlight and growls in the poverty stricken districts. Oceans of Black folk flood the streets from the south, and primped bleach blonde college kids flock from the north. Polish and Spanish practically are the second language, as the immigration is constant; and typical blue collar workers up sport high eastern European cheekbones. This land of extremes seemed to make a patchwork of geography and ethnicity that I hadnt seen before. 

Supersized people walk the streets in supersized clothes - amongst neon signs for fast food takeout. Working in the healthcare industry, I had always been acutely aware of obesity as an up-and-coming problem. However the proportions of this were different. East coasters religiously suck on their syrupy coffee, and shovel pastries and grease laden paddies into their bellies by the handful. But so far, my experience here seemed on a larger epidemic scale. 

 

This is tornado ally. The weather here is extreme and constant. There are NO small rainspells- only violent cataclysmic events. Ominous clouds take on purples and blues hues- blacks and greens- threatening to burst at the seams when wandering above the city. Within the first month, there were several tornado warnings, touchdowns, and lightening storms. I was witness to a Microburst- an extremely focussed weather phenomenon equivalent to a bomb exploding above ground, sending 80 mile-an-hour winds in all directions without warning. I was attending a street crafts fair covering several blocks. One moment the sky was sunny, the next a small breeze picked up, and the following people were running for their lives; pottery shattering, metal scaffolding doubling over, people huddled in corners of buildings to escape flying debris. In its aftermath- the destruction seemed as if I were in Lebanon having survived a bombing raid. People laid in the streets, bleeding, in shock and despair- the fair was an unrecognizable mess of debris. The fire department and ambulances took away many victims, and the fair closed down shortly after. This was my welcoming committee. 

In a visit south of the capital, again I landed in a foreign place. Walmart. TGIFridays, Taco Bell, Cracker Barrel. Diesel stops, Abandoned malls. God. Visiting in Effingham, IL, was an experience that seemed to further my stereotypes of this vulgar Americanism that unfortunately I was a part of. Surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of miles of corn in every direction- I was at the heart of Middle America. 

My first clues to feeling far and away were that every 10 miles or so, there would be small advertisements for "gunssavelives.com" spread out in cornfields along the interstate. Similarly, about 60 miles out of the city, I seemed to lose contact with all urban radiostations of hiphop and spanish ranchero music. In their place- God became the new channel. 

Arriving into what I understood was 'Effingham', which I thought would be more of a pronounced event- was more similar to pulling off the highway for a bathroom break. Effingham consisted of a supersized truckstop that gradually worked itself into the countryside of cute one level houses, and miles of farmland. Walmart stood in the middle- and like weeds, or a bad rash- around it sprung up dozens of fastfood chains, advertising like adult film shops. Some classier than others. Trucks constantly rumbled in off the highway like great animals as they downshifted into the diesel stations.On the horizon, stood a massive cross some several stories in height, able to be seen for miles around. It providing the beacon of light for those unsaved, and had a similar effect as placing a flag in unclaimed territory. This was God's country. 

Mothers walked their children in the beautiful sunshine along quiet streets. Young greasy haired tattooed teenager's zigzagged through the streets on bicycles, with shirts untucked, and open for the world to see. The local mall was closed down, and the expansive parking lot was abandoned. What was life like here? 

This middle America that I was so foreign to, seemed a perverse distortion of this American identity that I was familiar with. As an outsider, and albeit- as a city slicker- I became acutely aware that much like being ignorant to the world outside this country's borders, I was (somewhat) ignorant to the country within its borders. Effingham seemed a microcosm of this country's problems. The paradoxes and vulgarities were so apparent to me. Could anyone else see them from the inside?

Walmart was an American staple here. The irony that a store the size of a football arena, stacked with imported Chinese goods could bankrupt small family businesses would be the lifeline of so many people. To think that fast food was another- one that created epidemic proportions of obesity, cardiac disease, cancers, diabetes- and breaking our healthcare system- was accepted, needed, and fully integrated into the town. That miles of cornfields surrounding me were being converted to ethanol for the city's SUVs instead of food. That Pro-Gun advertising was fullforce here, when just in the last week the mayor of Chicago requested help from the National Guard due to an uncontrollable rash of gang violence. How did any of this make sense? Im still scratching my head. 

So far the country here is beautiful in all of its shades and extremes. More than anything, I discovered my own roots and beliefs as a foreigner in a foreign land.