get on the bus | february 27

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february 27:
ahhh, more of the open road.

four entries for you all today.

by joe gonzalez
joegon@umich.edu


We took off today at 10 am. More truthfully, we took at about 10:30am, after our first lesson in the complexity of group dynamics. Our lesson? In our group of fourteen people, we have precisely fourteen different definitions of "ten o'clock." Some people are convinced that 10 am means 9:55 am, while others think it means 10:15 am. The good news is that we arrived at a compromise: We will set a time to meet, but we will agree that there is a fifteen minute grace period. I am optimistic that our version of The Mayflower Compact will hold.

Our little agreement was reached in Knoxville, TN, or more specifically a Motel 6 in Knoxville, our little place of respite on the road to Atlanta. After our brief discussion, we headed east and south - into the Smoky Mountains National Park. We could not have made a better decision. Although it delayed our arrival in Atlanta by (probably) two-to-three hours, it was exactly what we needed. The beautiful mountains, and mist and fog, was such a pleasant break from the mile after mile of strip malls and fast food restaraunts. We ate lunch beneath the mist and a mountain, beside a rapid stream. It could not have been better.

As it turns out, we needed the peace and quiet. Atlanta tested our little group's patience . . . with two cruel turns of fate. First, we got lost. The youth hostel (our destination) gave us the wrong directions, and we three mini-vans got lost., touring much of suburban Atlanta in the process. As if this was not enough, upon arrival in Atlanta, one of our "fellow travelers," who shall remain nameless (Alberto Sanchez-Aparicio) locked the keys to one of our vans in the van itself. (Alberto, of course, has much to say about this in his journal entry.) But all was not lost. A quick call, by cell phone, to AAA, and the mini-van was freed within the hour.

Tomorrow the meat of the class begins: A visit to the King Center. And I will actually have to start teaching, which I have been able to avoid thus far.

As of tonight, I am very encouraged by our little group. We seem to be making friends. People are laughing and joking, taking pictures, and helping each other out. Without much direction from me, they are "gelling," becoming friends and helpmates. I am encouraged. It's a nice thing to see. As Doug Brinkley, whose book The Majic Bus gave me the idea for this trip, has told me: There is just something magical that happens when a bunch of people go off together in search of the American story. He is right.


by alberto sanchez-aparicio
albertos@umich.edu


My name is Alberto, I am an 18 years old freshman at the University of Michigan, in the Architecture program. I came from Lincoln NE, but I am originally from Oaxaca Mexico. I came on this trip because I like history, and I wanted to see exactly where some of the most important events in recent American history took place.

The first day went well. I am sure you can read more about if you want. I will try to express my actions for the second day, which for the record was by far the best day on the trip, thus far.

It comes with out saying that when 12 people decide when to get up in the morning, someone will innovatively assume that it is ok to get up fifteen minutes later. This little discrepancy was quickly handled by our fearless leader JOE. We then went to pick up some groceries so we could have a picnic in the Great Smoky Mountains.

I was the driver for one of the white vans. My co-pilot was Deborah, with Jordan and Zach as passengers. So we headed toward the Great Smokys.

On the way, we passed the town with lots of interesting attractions some of which were Dollywood, and square dancing. We stopped to get info, at a ranger station at start of the mountains. The weather was a little cool, and overcast, with occasional sprinkles. In the van we were listening to A Tribe Called Quest, one of Deborah's tapes. The mountains were spectacular, reminding me of my home back in Mexico. The river was especially meaningful, because on the farm of my uncle, there is a river where my cousins and I used to play.

We stopped in a picnic area and had lunch. We had sandwiches and lots of cookies, along with pop or apple juice. It started raining so we had to quickly pack our stuff, which was unfortunate because we also wanted to go on little hike in the park. In the mountains the weather made a turn for the worst. The visibility was about ten feet, and it started to rain really hard (Deborah was driving). The road was mostly one lane, no passing, which was the only thing that kept us together.

I was driving when we entered Atlanta. The weather changed dramatically as soon as we left the mountains. When we entered Atlanta the weather was great, and pretty close to dusk. The warm colors of the sun reflected off the skyscrapers, making them eve more majestic. It was unfortunate that I only got see quick glimpses of this, because the traffic was heavier than anything I had ever seen, and I had to keep the other vans in sight. We also got the wrong directions, so we were lost for a while. Anyway, we finally got to the hustle, where we met up with the other two members of our party ( Alyssa and Natalie).

In the pandemonium and excitement of moving into our rooms, I neglected my duties and locked my self out of the van I was driving. I really don't know how I did it, because I am usually careful about such things, but the keys ended up on the front driver seat, teasing me as I tried to open the doors. So we had to call AAA, and get them to open the van. I felt like an idiot, but no body really gave me too much grief over it. We took pictures, which will be posted up later this month.

After that I meet up with the rest of the group for dinner, and came back to start writing this entry. Hope you enjoyed my point of view, and the web site. --beto--


by mimi belton
beltonm@umich.edu


I dozed off in the van today. We had had a nice little picnic in the Smokey Mountain National Park, and I was full and happily drowsy. We stopped for gas and someone woke me up. We were on the rez! Debra and I walked down the road to the Native crafts store. I didn't find any hair ties, but I did find a lovely corn bead necklace. We were on Cherokee (Tsalagi) reservation land for less than a half hour. I didn't want to leave. I felt deeply sad as we drove away… but I knew I would be back.

Another thing that sticks out in my mind - the confederate flag. I had never known what one looked like, until today. I realize now I have seen it before. However, I saw it a record number of times as we headed south. I wonder if this flag is considered just as offensive as the swastika? I imagine it is. From my understanding, it represents pride in the old social order; and while the laws have changed, the mentality of white pride and supremacy has not.

That is one thing I have heard about the north and the south. There is a lot of racism in the south, but this is no great secret and people know "their place". In the north, however, racism is more hush-hush. So you don't know where you stand until something bad happens. The person who is smiling in your face could be part of the Aryan Nation, for all you know.


by zack schulman
zschulma@umich.edu


2:00 PM: First Confederate flag sighting ­ on the front license plate of a pickup truck in the opposing lane of traffic just after lunch in Great Smokey National Park. Was I offended? Yes. Does this person have the right have and show off the flag? Yes, itıs is their freedom of expression, but to me it is offensive. While many white southerners claim it is part of their "Southern Heritage" I see it as a symbol of institutionalized oppression. Representative of southern culture? Yes, the culture of white people hating black people. Not too complex.

Evening: Atlanta, we have arrived. Nothing too exciting here yet. We are staying in one of the most interesting youth hostels I have seen. I guess you could call it some sort of converted mansion or something, but it certainly has the genuine flare of aristocratic antiquity. Oh, yeah, someone was also saying that this place was once a brothel.

The evening was more or less uneventful ­ I was supposed to go out for sushi with Debra and her friend from Atlanta, but plans got fucked up and we ended up just having a quick dinner w/ the group and then chilling at the friends apartment for a while. To sum up: uneventful.

The drive from Knoxville this morning to Atlanta did have a few interesting events. Oh, yeah, the intense and sometimes deep conversation with Debra and sometimes Alberto and Michael continued during a large portion of the ride through Tennessee, North Carolina, and Georgia. The ride through Great Smokey National Park was very scenic, but would have been much more so if it had not been so foggy and rainy. It was certainly nice to see a slice of the park. Lunch was had at a picnic-type place with a bustling (more than gurgling, but certainly not white water) creek; it was pleasant.

Another interesting aspect of the days trip was that we passed the epitome of American-Style Capitalism and tourist craziness on the way into the park and to a lesser extent on the way out (or rather just outside the park on both sides). It was something that could be called a Hill-Billy version of Times Square, complete with mini-golf, laser tag, knick-knack shops, whacked out tourist "attractions", country western comedy shows, and "Dollywood," whose namesake is the one and only Dolly Parton. Enough said. It was not my style.

click the photo below to enlarge
























 
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