Sometimes adventures fall right into your lap.
This Tuesday, we went over to Aamon and Wendy's for a barbeque (these are the people that had their 11th wedding anniversary party on 11/11/11 and roasted an entire sheep). Their three kids were keen for a swim when we arrived, so off we piled onto and into their truck, and went down to the river before dinner. On the way back, after a refreshing (a.k.a cold, a.k.a. freezing) dip in the recently rain-fed river, we encountered a backpacker crossing their drive. He had a huge pack, music blaring tinnily from headphones and was that a Texas A&M shirt?
It was. "Did you go to Texas A&M?" I called out. Looking a little taken aback, he applied in the affirmative. "I went to UT," I offered. His face expressed disapproval, and he made an upside down 'Hook-Em' sign. I replied with the correct 'Hook-Em' handsign as we pulled up the drive, leaving him on the road. Weird, I thought. Strangely enough, I managed to run into an Aggie in the middle of rural New Zealand. But it didn't end there. Just ten minutes and a lot of toweling later, Aamon looked out the window and remarked that a friend of mine seemed to be coming by. And indeed, I turned around to see the stranger hesitating by the front gate. Taking pity on him, I went out to make his acquaintance. His name, I now found out, was Trey, and he was wondering if he could pitch his tent on Aamon and Wendy's land. They did him one better and invited him over for tea, and so we found ourselves eating barbeque with a slightly shy but friendly and very grateful Texan. Oh, the coincidences.
Trey had some family in Hamilton, so he'd been mostly on the North Island, but had been hitchhiking around, eventually heading to Queenstown and sky-diving before heading back up. He was heading up to do some hiking on Mt. Arthur, but before we left I gave him our number in case he wanted to go to the pub after getting back. He lit out early the next morning from Aamon and Wendy's treehouse (where they had let him stay; they are very very nice people), and two days later I got a phonecall. So last night Mom and I hosted a fellow* Texan and fed him his first ever vegetarian meal. Well, the boy did grow up in Ft.Worth, and then move to College Station, and he did talk about how much he loves to barbeque. He is obviously a much better Texan than I am; he evens uses the greeting 'Howdy'! Anyway, despite slight cultural differences and despite the long-held animosity between our two alma maters, we managed to be very civil to one another. In fact, we got along splendidly. Honestly, it was nice seeing someone who was not only my age, but familiar with Texas. He understood my desire for warmer weather! He drank the same beer that I had! We talked about missing Mexican (well, Tex-Mexican) food! It was delightful.
So there you go. Two Texans met in the middle of New Zealand, drank a little beer, had some good talk, then went their separate ways. It can be refreshing talking to someone from your own area; you have to explain so much less, jokes are so much easier. When traveling, it can be exhausting to constantly feel like an outsider. It can be a little tiring in day to day life, too, I've found. Its the feeling of being instantly identified as 'not from here'. I think its stranger for my parents than for me, since they've lived here for so long but people instantly pidgeon hole them as tourists as soon as they speak.
Actually, for some weird reason we watched The Big Lebowski last week and it made me homesick. I think it was the little Americanisms in the film; they eat at In&Out, they use a Folgers tin. And its just so Californian. So it was good to see a Texan, and feel a little bit closer to that version of home.
*I hope I don't need to remind anyone that I am, in fact, a Texas resident. Making me a Texan. Okay? Okay.
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