This was a busy weekend. On Friday Ben took Matt and I to Holly Springs to visit the summer school. It was more of a hangout-day than a workday. We went out to Phillips’ Grocery by the tracks, and I had the Fill-up Burger. Scrumptious and deadly: it was a quarter-pound burger with ham, bacon, American cheese, onions, lettuce, and tomatoes. If I live in Mississippi, I need to live far away from Ben, because otherwise we’ll go out for fatty burgers, pricey sushi, and greasy (grē'·zē, like easy) soul food every day.
After “work” I went to play volleyball with the teachers for a few hours again. I think my team lost more than it won, but it was good to get out in the sun.
After volleyball a crowd of us went to some generic Mexican restaurant for a double-birthday party. It was a strange experience, a bit like being at a large wedding where you really only know the bride and groom, but are expected to sit and chat with their relatives about your life. It was fun, though, and the food was good.
On Saturday, Ben arranged for a trip to the Delta with Ashley Johnson, who spoke to us earlier in the week about her time spent in the Teacher Corps (sounds like a prison). We visited Greenwood, where she taught middle school students while she was in the program, and also Money, where Emmett Till was brutally lynched in the 1950s. The trip was what I call “an India experience,” meaning a brush with another world whose poverty and social dynamic I had previously not imagined. Like my first trip to India, when people warned me about how shocking some scenes would be beforehand, I was forewarned as we went into Greenwood that it would be quite amazing to see some of the “houses” in the poor, black neighborhoods; it was the same kind of pseudo-preparation. Seeing one of those old houses is not as amazing as seeing the houses with people in and around them. Seeing a decrepit street is one thing, but seeing the gang members and children who live there is another. There were two effects of the trip to Greenwood: amazement and a strong desire to live there. This surely qualifies it as “an India experience” for me.
Money was an intriguing stop. We saw the store where Emmett Till supposedly wolf-whistled at a white woman. The people in Money do not talk about those events very often. They almost never call Emmett by name if they mean to refer to him.
Then we went out to eat, again, at the Crown Restaurant in Indianola. It was fabulous. I took Ben’s recommendation and ordered the catfish allison. Best fish I’ve ever had in my life, perhaps bested only by my father’s buttery tilapia. I have secretly asked Ben, should I be admitted into the Teacher Corps, to make sure my placement is in Indianola—far enough away from him to not eat out every day, but close enough to the Crown to eat out well. I also learned that caramel and cream cheese go quite well together on a cracker.
Sunday was filled with excitement, too. Latisha rented a car for the weekend, and decided to visit the mother of one of the summer school students at their home church in Red Banks. We dropped off Christine and her friend Julie (no, Ben, her name isn’t Jess) in Holly Springs so they could tour the town and go to mass. Then Tish and I visited Pleasant Grove Missionary Baptist Church. It was a nice place. Mrs. Lester, the mother of the summer school student, told us that most of the church is part of one very large, very extended family. I liked it. Praise the Lord. She very graciously bought us each a plate of lunch, soul food, and sent us on our way. Tish and I picked up Christine and Julie and drove to Memphis, Tennessee. We quickly visited the National Civil Rights Museum, which was a bit more intense than I would have wanted; I couldn’t help but cry half-way through. I felt a bit heavy for the rest of the day. After that we quickly drove Julie to the airport, stopped by the Apple Store to make Tish’s appointment at the Genius Bar, and scooted home.
I was pooped by Sunday night. I’m still pooped now. Back to work on the Wiki.
After “work” I went to play volleyball with the teachers for a few hours again. I think my team lost more than it won, but it was good to get out in the sun.
After volleyball a crowd of us went to some generic Mexican restaurant for a double-birthday party. It was a strange experience, a bit like being at a large wedding where you really only know the bride and groom, but are expected to sit and chat with their relatives about your life. It was fun, though, and the food was good.
On Saturday, Ben arranged for a trip to the Delta with Ashley Johnson, who spoke to us earlier in the week about her time spent in the Teacher Corps (sounds like a prison). We visited Greenwood, where she taught middle school students while she was in the program, and also Money, where Emmett Till was brutally lynched in the 1950s. The trip was what I call “an India experience,” meaning a brush with another world whose poverty and social dynamic I had previously not imagined. Like my first trip to India, when people warned me about how shocking some scenes would be beforehand, I was forewarned as we went into Greenwood that it would be quite amazing to see some of the “houses” in the poor, black neighborhoods; it was the same kind of pseudo-preparation. Seeing one of those old houses is not as amazing as seeing the houses with people in and around them. Seeing a decrepit street is one thing, but seeing the gang members and children who live there is another. There were two effects of the trip to Greenwood: amazement and a strong desire to live there. This surely qualifies it as “an India experience” for me.
Money was an intriguing stop. We saw the store where Emmett Till supposedly wolf-whistled at a white woman. The people in Money do not talk about those events very often. They almost never call Emmett by name if they mean to refer to him.
Then we went out to eat, again, at the Crown Restaurant in Indianola. It was fabulous. I took Ben’s recommendation and ordered the catfish allison. Best fish I’ve ever had in my life, perhaps bested only by my father’s buttery tilapia. I have secretly asked Ben, should I be admitted into the Teacher Corps, to make sure my placement is in Indianola—far enough away from him to not eat out every day, but close enough to the Crown to eat out well. I also learned that caramel and cream cheese go quite well together on a cracker.
Sunday was filled with excitement, too. Latisha rented a car for the weekend, and decided to visit the mother of one of the summer school students at their home church in Red Banks. We dropped off Christine and her friend Julie (no, Ben, her name isn’t Jess) in Holly Springs so they could tour the town and go to mass. Then Tish and I visited Pleasant Grove Missionary Baptist Church. It was a nice place. Mrs. Lester, the mother of the summer school student, told us that most of the church is part of one very large, very extended family. I liked it. Praise the Lord. She very graciously bought us each a plate of lunch, soul food, and sent us on our way. Tish and I picked up Christine and Julie and drove to Memphis, Tennessee. We quickly visited the National Civil Rights Museum, which was a bit more intense than I would have wanted; I couldn’t help but cry half-way through. I felt a bit heavy for the rest of the day. After that we quickly drove Julie to the airport, stopped by the Apple Store to make Tish’s appointment at the Genius Bar, and scooted home.
I was pooped by Sunday night. I’m still pooped now. Back to work on the Wiki.
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