mountain folk

Many of the employees here, especially repeaters, are an unusual breed of mountain folk. A full set of teeth is hard to come by, although nearly everyone has a complete working knowledge of shotguns, chewing tobacco, beer, and beef jerky. The older men who work here all walk with a heavy swagger, cowboy boots and a cowboy hat, and the biggest silver belt buckles - usually featuring some type of wildlife (eagles, moose) and turquoise. The women, on the other hand, all have the most sun-damaged wrinkly skin and tend to sport jeans and a denim jacket. It seems the ideal is to find a set where the exact hue of blue is identical, but really any denim jacket will do. From afar, it's hard to distinguish the men from the women... Most conversations I've observed between the mountain folk include a lot of laughing, screaming, and "hey"s. I don't really understand "hey" because it seems to have several different meanings out here. First, it serves as a greeting, just like in real civilization (ex: "Hey! How are you?"). Second, you can just interject it anywhere in a story with a little upswing of the tone and everyone will repeat it back to you. (ex: "So I was walking down the road - hey! -" "Hey!" "- when I saw the bear.") Maybe it's a way to make sure everyone's paying attention to what you're saying...? And third, it seems to provide emphasis to pretty much anything else. (ex: She had really put on a lot of weight. Hey.") Most converssations are dominated by "hey". I suppose I should view this experience as a solid reminder to me of how colorful and diverse the US population really is, and how isolated my circle can be. There is definitely a biased range of students at Hopkins, but this is also unusual by less-academic standards. My roommate from middle-of-nowhere-Ohio even mentioned that this does not resemble real civilization. Her town has 1400 people.

Today, Carole, a real Montana woman born and bred, and I had a little chat. She's the head property gardener who grew up just down the road - 62 years ago. She doesn't look a day under 75. Carole is the epitome of a mountain woman - the swagger, the denim, the muddy boots. She's always cheery and ready to share her life story (which I've now heard), smiling with her one tooth and waving at everyone. I have to mention this little story because our chat took place at the grocery store while I was ringing up her goods - including a tiny tube of toothpaste. (Gotta keep that last tooth healthy!) I'd hate to tell her it's too late.

A few notes on the character of MT: At the store yesterday, we tried to find a radio station to help pass the time. All three of the stations reachable from here were varieties of extra-twangy country music, so instead we popped in a twangy Kentucky bluegrass CD. Fortunately, one of the managers brought us a few mixed CDs to play - mixes of different country artists, that is. Yay.... The only two newspapers available here are the Great Falls Tribune of Great Falls, MT and the Glacier Review...no New York Times or Washington Post, nor any demand for them. Pickup trucks are the clear majority, sedans dating back to pre-1995 the large minority, and cars from the most recent decade are extremely rare, at least until tourist season really starts. The only place with internet is by the bar, which nobody seems to find strange, and one particularly popular type of locally brewed beer is called "Moose Drool"...appetizing... Being "vegetarian" just means you'll have lettuce and tomatoes (vegetables) on your cheeseburger. Tabasco tastes good on everything.

That's it for now, but more to come...