It's the Simple Things

There are so many small things that make living and working in a small town such a unique experience.  It should seem normal to me, I suppose, coming from rural Indiana (because despite some differences, a small town is a small town), but I've realized that experiencing life as a child/high schooler is very different from experiencing it as an adult.  I also don't feel like our family was involved in Reynolds town happenings to the extent that I am here.

So here's life in Green River:

I live 2 minutes away from everything except the Subway and Arby's out at the other end of town (about 5 minutes).  I drove there the other day and seriously felt myself thinking "ugh, this is so far".  Hmm.  A little perspective, Amber.  Ironically, I live closer to a grocery store (a small one) than I ever have before.  I once left my house at 4:54, grabbed a couple of things at the Melon Vine, and made it to Ray's Tavern right at 5:00, in time to beat everyone else to dinner.  Which is better, living further from a plethora of things, or living closer to the essentials?  I guess they both have their pros and cons. 

I usually make a game out of trying to get somewhere without putting on my seat belt, which I believe dings after about a minute.  It hardly ever works, but I'm usually still too stubborn to put it on.  Unfortunately, I believe the dinging of my car is exceptionally annoying.

You'll find any number of interesting vehicles on the road in Green River, and I use the term "vehicle" pretty loosely.  I've seen ATV's, lawn mowers, scooters...

In case you thought I was joking...

In Indiana, farmers do the two-finger wave on the back roads, but here, everyone just waves to everyone in town when they drive past.  Green Riverites' vehicle recognition game is pretty strong, and there's kind of a visibile "car culture" is because of its current role and history as a traveler's stopping point.  It's so much like Radiator Springs from Cars that part of me is convinced the writers drew inspiration from here.  If you combine that movie and McFarland, USA (that is not a racist joke, just the truth), you've pretty much got Green River.   

There are so many things that happen in small towns that just wouldn't happen anywhere else... I once rode down main street in the back of Justin's truck (in a skirt) holding onto an electric organ because his tailgate doesn't close. We've also shoved a large canoe and a kayak in the back of that truck, which unfortunately fell off in the middle of the street and almost pulled his truck over.  Apparently our ratchet strap skills aren't up to snuff.  

Yes, those are go carts.  That's Doreen, her husband, and her daughter Cassidy, and they're pretty great.

People, including myself, also park on the wrong side of the street all the time (and just generally wherever they want) because I just don't think parking tickets are a thing here. Since many of the streets don't have sidewalks, we usually just walk (or rollerblade) in the middle of them. 

Many people here don't have emails, and if they do, they have terrible email etiquette.  The best way to get a hold of someone is probably calling or dropping by, and the best way to advertise for something is hanging up flyers in the post office, Chow Hound, and the grocery store.  Coming from a large university where technology and efficiency are key, I experienced a bit of a culture shock when I realized that Justin had to text or call all the parents if they had to move soccer practice (this process is extra inefficient because Justin refuses to get a smart phone... right now he actually has no phone at all, much to his enjoyment and Hope and I's dismay).

That dropping by thing also happens pretty often during the work day.  People just come and chat for awhile.  It's great if it's someone I'd like to form a relationship with, but increasingly less tolerable the less that's the case.  I love people, but I'm pretty task oriented.  This also shows up when Hope chats to me about something across our desks and I (unintentionally, of course) find myself nodding and going "mhmm" while not really listening at all.  This unfortunate role in my life is usually filled by Andrea, and I imagine she's probably glad for a break. 

And of course, everyone here knows everyone. Even I, who have only been here for 3 months, can't go many places at all without knowing someone. Justin and Hope (or sometimes me) drop the kids off at the end of Afterschool, and Justin knows not only where all the children live, but also their grandmother, aunt, cousin, step-uncle's sister's ex-husband... ok, not really.  But it is handy that he has a couple of back-up plans if their parents aren't home, which happens far more than it should. 

I think it's so easy to get caught up in the idea that I can't relate with people in this western, outdoor-and-hunting-focused, poor small town.  That once someone has gone to a university, lived in a city, or seen some of the world it's just too difficult to spend time those who haven't.  But one of my favorite things about Green River is the cross-economic and cultural friendships that I've seen.  Some of the most well-known and liked people in town are also those who need to visit the food pantry from time to time, and I think that's pretty cool.           

When I was living in Lafayette, I definitely thought, "There's no way I could ever move back to a town like Reynolds".  Of course there are always frustrations, but I'm finding that a small town fits my personality pretty well.  Don't misunderstand me, I'm not planning to move back to Reynolds.  I do, however, love a small community with its opportunities to get to know people and wear a lot of hats.  I love that the definition of a fun weekend is a hike, movie, community meal, and a campfire.  It may not seem so, but it's possible to have a "real life" in the middle of nowhere, it just requires some priority adjustment.  

Pied Pipers of Pests

One of the downsides of living in the desert is the number of interesting creatures that make themselves a part of your daily life.  It's like nature is saying, "It's the desert. You don't belong here, and we're just going to invade your living space".

I wouldn't have considered myself particularly afraid of mice, but I have discovered how much I incredibly dislike them living in my house or seeing them scamper across the floor.  I scream every time.  Hope, my roommate, hates mice.  HATES mice.  So when we discovered them, we went on a mouse killing spree.  At first, she tried to buy those nice traps that I guess just lock the mouse inside so you don't have to deal with the messiness of getting rid of their body.  Well, those didn't work.  If you ever have to deal with mice in your house, just go for the real thing right away... good old fashioned snap traps. We caught two in right in a row with that deadly combination of peanut butter and swift precision.  However, getting rid of their dead bodies from those traps is pretty much the worst thing ever. Just spend the extra $1.50 to get a new set. 

There are any number of large bugs crawling around these parts, so I've gotten pretty used to that.  Beetles, cockroaches, and crickets are everywhere.  One night I had the misfortune of sharing my room with a cricket, and it's chirping kept me awake for at least a half hour before I finally determined to catch/kill it.  Turns out that's pretty difficult, and I lost another half hour of sleep dancing around my room trying to uncover and outsmart this cricket.  I finally trapped it under a glass and left it there to slowly die.  Is Utah making me more morbid?  Possibly.  It's the raw, primal wild west.  (;

What even is that?!? It's like a butterfly mated with a bumblebee.  You never know what you'll find hiking in the desert.

Our office at the community center seems to attract an inordinate number of flies.  My whole body tingles when a fly buzzes in my ear, but apparently some people don't mind them.  Like Justin.  He'll just sit there and let them crawl all over him,  (I think it's relevant to mention here that Justin's dream job is a monk).  So when Hope and I take turns going on killing rampages (I'm not even over-dramatizing that), the flies seem to know that he's a safe zone. 

Just a typical day in the office

They're not pests per se, but I couldn't go without mentioning the Green River pack of dogs- or several packs, really- that run around disturbing slumber and sanity with their barking and antics.  Some are strays, some have owners, it really doesn't matter.  Most of them are evil.  They're all small dogs too, which makes it worse.  One evening a group of 6 or so chased me an entire block on my bike, yapping at my tire and making a whole lot of racket.  It was annoying of course, but the worst part was wondering if they would ever actually leave me or whether I would have to resort to more extreme measures.

This picture represents Green River in a lot of ways.  But just look at all those dogs!

And even though it's the desert, living by a river means there are the ever-present mosquitoes which definitely disrupt my evening bike rides.

On the positive side, I guess you would just call these run-ins with pests character building experiences.  And lest I'm making it sound like this isn't a place you would ever want to come, it's still worth it.  (:

Cooking Class

Picture standing behind a counter top as 10 or so children come running in the door, all demanding a snack and yelling about something or another.  You remind them for the thousandth time that they have to hang up their bags and wash their hands first.  They then proceed to complain about the snack that they were previously demanding, probably because it contains a vegetable (oh the horror) and there are wheat crackers instead of white crackers.  You've imagined my life now, or at least part of it.

Now that I've been here a couple of months, I've obviously gotten a lot deeper into my work (which I love, by the way... most of the time).  Just one part is teaching cooking classes on Tuesdays to elementary-aged youth of the town as part of the Afterschool program that PACT, my non-profit, offers.  In addition to that, I also take care of their snack every day after school, and most days it really just feels like I have 10-15 rambunctious children.  I cook for them, occasionally do laundry, listen to their stories and complaints, attempt to get them to mind, and clean up their dishes.  Sooo many dishes.  We don't have a dishwasher, so it feels like I'm literally always doing dishes.  If you think that cleaning peanut butter out of one measuring cup is bad, try like 10.

When you imagine me teaching youth cooking classes, you might picture a group of children in little aprons and chef hats staring adoringly at me as I demonstrate bread kneading or knife skills.  Ha.  More like me desperately trying to control a room full of unruly little devils.  They are grabby, loud, manipulative, constantly moving, needy, rude, and picky, among a number of other things.  Tonight I had to discipline three girls for eating mouthfuls of raw rice after I took it away and told them not to. Seriously?  RAW RICE?  If you're going to get in trouble, go for the big box of leftover Halloween chocolate sitting on the counter.  There are cooking days that have gone well, and days that have made me want to cry (I've only actually cried once).  Justin gets mad at me when I call them devils because he thinks it's too negative.  I think it's more just that I am realistic...

And yet, I love them, and I love it when I can tell they actually understand or remember something.  There are just the moments that make it all worth it.  Like when Estephanie tells me that she started coming to Afterschool because she loves cooking day.  Or when I get Christian or Ellie to try just one bite of something without dramatically gagging.  Or when tough little Brian begs to cut up the onions and then paces around the room with tears streaming down his face.  Or when at least half of the kids like the pureed pumpkin and sweet potato soup (a miracle).

Yes, little by little, these little devils have made themselves lovable.  They've become part of my days and my life.  I love it when they tell me their stories and cling to me when they're too scared to go into the haunted house on Halloween.  When they ask me to read to them or to watch them play soccer or show me their drawings.  I love it when I can tease them and when they want me to play with them.  Teaching them and corralling them may stress me out... like I'm always pretty nervous on cooking days... but I'm glad I'm doing it.  And really, they need it.  They need me and the other staff here at PACT.  Not even the cooking skills so much as just a positive couple of hours in their after-school day.  

These kids have much harder lives than mine ever was. Almost 100% of students in the Green River elementary school qualify for free and reduced lunch.  Currently, every single child that comes to Afterschool is Hispanic.  Their parents seem to work all the time, and many of them just run around the town doing what they want.  They don't have a plethora of positive role models, and they probably don't eat very well at home.  All of these things help remind me to be patient with their behavior and their eating habits... most of the time.    

Cook days have gone a little better as both they and I have adjusted our expectations and gotten used to one another.  If I can teach them just one or two things by the end of the year, whether it be that vegetables and whole grains won't kill them, the meaning of the term "fold"... or even just how to work quietly, listen, and share... I'll feel like I have succeeded in some way. It's baby steps.  

I think this is the only picture I have of cooking day, which Hope snapped on our very first venture.  This is during tasting time, when the children proclaimed the salsa to be "gross" and have "too much onion", and then proceeded to eat 10 chips full.

Oh, and P.S... Please go and thank a childcare provider or elementary school teacher.  And if you are one, THANK YOU.