home february 26 february 27 february 28 february 29 march 1 march 2 march 3 march 4 march 5 reflections bios		february 29: we make the leap to memphis. ...two entries in our travel log for you all today... by patricia welsh pwelsh@umich.edu Situated on I-20, seven miles east of Eastabooga, Georgia, I sit in the back of a mini-van doing my best to 1) not let my fingers be thrown all about the keys on Michael's laptop because of the incessantly random shifting of lanes, and 2) hold my bladder. Thus, right now I'm not in the most comfortable position. However, I suppose that it comes with the territory if one signs up to travel to the deep south with a bunch of strangers…strangers who don't know that you've have two surgical bladder stretches (come find me if you want to know the details! It's really exciting!), and that bypassing any rest stop is your idea of the cruelest sort of inhumanity. Yet, my new friends and I forge on to Memphis, and subsequently begin our second of three harsh driving days; but, using the time in between Atlanta and Memphis more efficiently and intrinsically, I find that I'm reminded of Ezekiel Kennedy, an older black gentleman who played piano in Mary Mac's, the restaurant across the street from the youth hostel in Atlanta where we ate dinner last night. Mister Kennedy had been playing big-note jazz for Mary Mac's for about thirty five years, and while we were there waiting for our meals to come out I took a minute to walk up to the front of the restaurant to talk with him. We exchanged pleasantries: I put a dollar in his nearly empty tip bowl, and asked him to play "As Time Goes By." I sang along with him, and when the music was finished we talked about music, how long we both had been playing and singing, as well as where we were from. He explained that he had lived in Atlanta all but five of his 78 years, and I in turn told him that I had come down to Atlanta with a class from the University of Michigan - a class that was celebrating and learning about the Civil Rights Movement. With that, he sat back and looked me in the eye as though I had reminded him of a dead grandmother who had been loving and warm at one time. He smiled at me, but he was taken aback. So, when I questioned his reaction, he leaned into me, cocked his head to the right, and proceeded to tell me that so often, as an Atlanta native, and a black man who lived during the time of the Civil Rights Movement, that it's pleasantly awkward when a group of white kids come down South to see what his "people been through". Wanting to know more, I asked him what was so awkward about it; thus he further explained that it's amazing -- the changes that happened with the work of Dr. Martin Luther King and other big players in the movement. Moreover, Ezekiel said that although there's still so much to be done for equality in the United States, there's so much that's already been done as a result of the Civil Rights Movement.- "just look at y'all comin' down to Atlanta for Dr. King. Well," he smiles and grabs my hand, "God bless you, Patricia, and I hope you have a good trip." Well, so far, Ezekiel, it's been good. It's been really good. I've met some of the greatest conversationalists on this trip. For instance, the hostel was great for that. You see, as a smoker I had to often jettison the purity of the inside for the harsh weather that was welcoming of my shitty habit. When I would go out to the porch there would be students from all over the world smoking cigarettes and bitching about how cold it was. These students were in Atlanta for jobs, education, but most of all, new friendships; and as a result, I've walked away with knowing some really cool people and having a vast list of E-mails. With great luck, that list will get even longer. But for now I must end this great schpeil. The vans have stopped in the outskirts of Birmingham, and we're all standing outside of a travel plaza arguing over eating at Wendy's or at some joint down the road. As for me, I don't really care where we eat as long as it's got a toilet. - this bladder's killing me. by juliana kua julianak@umich.edu Plan: Awake, we set off for Memphis at 10am. Reality: Half asleep, we set off at 10.45am. Yet, the drive started off pleasant. We were all eager to get to another new city as quickly as we could. Or maybe that was the problem. As the drive progressed, it was apparent that this was not going to be like the first 2 days of driving, when we were unsure about one another and just feeling one another out. People were tired and tempers were short. It boiled over when we stopped at Wendy's for lunch. WENDY'S?? On the one hand, cheap; on the other hand, boring. Slightly furrowed brows, slightly raised voices… (we're a positive groupJ) After a quick meeting, we decided to go to get real Southern and cheap food. The food was good! Well, actually it seemed good... it was different... there were devilled eggs, rice with gravy, boiled cabbage… and we soon adjourned for a longer meeting. It was an effective meeting, despite the fact that the Southern sun was beating down on our backs. It was so warm it was almost like Singapore. We thrashed out issues, with humor omnipresent. A good sign? I think so. The drive continued. We saw a sign that said:" God is like scotch tape, you can't see him but you know he is there." What?? Never mind. Uneventful otherwise. Until the gold van takes a wrong turn. And Jeb climbs up the hill to relieve himself. We took a picture. Finally reached The University of Memphis after a long search. We expected shitty rooms... we got the VIP suites. Things were really starting to look up. Then came the issue of dinner. We decided to splurge for the last time on the "Best Ribs in Memphis". It was our last treat if you know what I mean. But they were worth it. The ribs were dry, zesty and the deco was fantastic. The waiter was real friendly too, especially with Jeb... Then the day hit a high. We decided to cross the bridge and step on Arkansas soil. The moment the van ground to a halt, we all spilt out, ran around a bit, and piled back into the van again. (Pardon my British expressions.) 3 states in a day, man!! We rule!! (This is really American! I think I'm having an identity crisis...) And it was a long drive back. We were never technically lost, according to Jeb, but we were almost always confused. Thanks to Michael's skill, and Patricia's shot-gun directing, we managed to arrive back in one piece. Busy day tomorrow. Time to hit the sack. I think I'm having an identity crisis. British or American English? I hope it clears up tomorrow.J Contributed by Juliana Kua, born in Singapore, taught British English, but now trying to absorb as much American culture on this trip as possible.	click the photo below to enlarge we apologize for the boring photos today. we promise more exciting ones tomorrow... Michael, driving. He likes to drive. It's a control issue. Us, entering Mississippi. Hey, we were excited. Joe, our fearless leader, in Mississippi. Doesn't he LOOK excited? Patricia emerging from the forest after we were unable to find her a restroom. Alyssa decided that she could wait until we found a REAL restroom. As did Mimi and Deborah. A sign on the highway in Mississippi noting the birthplace of Elvis Presley. Look closely. Juliana, working on the website.

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