Country Mouse Observes the City

I have been in Seattle for a few days, attending a conference. I find myself bemused at what a country mouse I've become by living in the woods and then in a small town for the past 14 years. After living in Singapore during my high school years and then becoming rather fond of San Francisco during my California days, I thought I'd always have a place in my heart for the city. And perhaps I do, but it's harder to find the door to that room these days.

This morning as I was on the rainy drive toward downtown, I got caught in a traffic jam of epic proportions. It finally occurred to me to listen to the radio, at which point I learned that someone had climbed over the railing on the Aurora Bridge, and the police and firemen were trying to talk him back to safety. They finally opened one lane on our side, and we inched past the line of fire trucks, police cars and personnel. The news reports say that the man did jump two hours later and was taken, unconscious, to a local medical center.

This evening, I decided to walk the six blocks down to Pike Street market. I was hoping it would still be open and busy and picturesque, as it was when I was down there earlier in the day for lunch with a colleague. Alas, the stalls were closed and the last cleanup of the day was nearly done. The fish smell, however, was still pretty pervasive. I don't much like fish smell, so I walked around the streets for a while, watching people and listening to conversations.

Have you noticed that most city folk wear black? I watched a girl on the other side of the crosswalk, dressed in her black shoes, black pants, nicely cut black coat and black knit cap pulled down over her hair. She was listening to music on her iPod and patting her thigh with her hand in time with the music, a blank look in her eyes.

A guy waited for the bus, a 3/4 circle nose ring through his nose cartilage. And another down the way was standing with a sign that said, "I bet you 50 cents you read this sign."

As I stood at another crosswalk, a guy near me said earnestly to the girl with him, "Life is beautiful, but it's a struggle, you know what I mean? You gotta be who you gotta be."

I passed two other young girls talking to each other. One said, "They're saying he ought to have chance at it, since this is the last time he could be elected president. But, like, that's not a good reason."

I headed up the road toward the parking garage. A guy on the opposite corner was belting out a tune on his soprano saxophone in the near dark, his hat on the ground near him.

I was getting hungry, so I dropped by a crepe stand I'd seen earlier in the day and ordered a chevre cheese, red bell pepper and spinach crepe.

"How was your day?" the bright-faced girl behind the counter asked.

"Good!" I exclaimed. "How was yours?"

"Long," she said.

"Oh yeah? Why long?"

"I started out at school at 7:30 and went till 3:30, and then came here for work," she said.

"Wow," I said. "Which school?"

"Seattle U."

"What are you taking there?" I asked, always curious about our sister institutions.

"International business."

"Microfinance?"

"Yeah!" she lit up. And she told me about how she wants to work with Oxfam and do good things to help the poor in developing countries.

"Oh," I said. "Cool! I first learned about Oxfam when I went into one of their stores in Oxford, England."

She looked impressed. "I can't top that!" she said. Then, "Will you vote?"

"I already did."

She grinned at me with approval. I'm such a sucker for approval from a college kid. "We do mail-in ballot in our area," I said.

We talked a little about where I am from; her dad has worked in my town as a contractor. And then I went my way, taking my crepe with me. On the way home I listened to the radio and thought about how people here in the city (or on the radio in this city, anyhow) speak in rather choppy phrases with a monotone voice and a dry sense of humor, and say very cute educated-sounding things.

So tomorrow the Country Mouse will head back over the mountain pass for home, the place where there aren't always sidewalks and it rains a lot less, and you can't buy a hot crepe anywhere, and the homeless are pretty much invisible.