These Boots are Made for Walkin...or Driving Cross Country, Actually

I am not Amish nor am I a cowgirl.  I live among the Amish and I got here by way of the land of cowboys and Indians.  This blog was borne of that transitional experience and will likely be filled with my observations on it as I live day to day in this new and sometimes foreign place.  

I moved here from Arizona, "little spring place" in Pima, the land of the saguaro cactus, the brown desert, famous heat, the Grand Canyon, the Mormons, ASU, the Lost Dutchman's Mine, the American Snowbird.

I moved from there to Pennsylvania, Penn's woods, the land of seasons, trees, Penn State, the Liberty Bell, farms, Amish, Mennonites, and I don’t know what else yet.  I’m still learning.

In Arizona, the Mormon missionaries ride around on their bicycles, wearing their starched white shirts and pressed black or navy pants with bibles in their pockets, proclaiming the word of a man who allegedly dug up some really heavy tomes a long time ago and had a very common name.  You can pick them out from a mile away (the missionaries, not the tomes).  Once you know what they are, that is.  Took me a while before I could spot them.  I just thought there were a lot of young men who dressed really nicely in the heat of summer to go out and run errands on their bicycles.  I was impressed by their fortitude and perseverance.  Here were people with specific dress, specific traditions, specific processes that they would absolutely not change...somewhat integrated into society at large, yet striving to keep a certain level of separation at the same time.

When I moved to Lancaster, I moved into another land of People of Specific Belief Systems That They Wear on Their Sleeves.  Literally.  The Amish women wear home-made simple dresses that are composed of a couple or a few layers of smocks tied in a very complicated fashion.  The tying seems to be especially complicated on the younger girls, as it would appear that extra fabric is left for them to grow into over time.  This makes sense - if there is fabric to let out, you don't have to make the clothing over and over again.  It's efficient.  The grown men have bowl cuts and beards, no mustaches, and wear pants, shirts, and often suspenders.  Men and women work at hard labor on farms and provide all that the family and extended family needs to get by - no small job.  They get around in horse drawn buggies, complete with flashing lights and turn signals.  Sometimes, interestingly enough, they ride in cars but never drive them.  They are permitted to use technology when it does not negatively impact their quality of life, as I understand it.   So while they may not drive cars, they have deemed it okay to utilize them in certain cases.  The Amish ways are specifically strict, and certainly different from what most of us would consider "normal." It works for them and they remain insulated if not isolated from the rest of the world.  I am fascinated by them, and humbled by all the work they do without even thinking of it as work.  It's just life.

How peculiar to draw comparisons.  But I did.  And I do.  Both groups fascinate me to such an extent that I stare rudely, trying to figure out the family structure of a certain group, or the age of a young woman with 5 young (perfectly behaved!) kids in tow.  Theirs are foreign belief systems to me in many ways.  

I came from the land of Pedaling (Peddling?) Prophecy to the land of Bearded Buggy Drivers and Bonnets.  And that is to put it simply.  Too simply.

The clash and mix of experiences and cultures has made my head swim and my mind whirl.

But I continue to bake, and ride my bike.  I've learned about gardening and running a household that's not just me.  I wear my cowboy boots whenever possible.  In this cooler clime, I get to do that a lot more than in my previous life.  It's a little bit Amish, and a little bit hippy, really, as some dear friends pointed out some months ago.  And none of it would be happening without the awakening I had during my time in the southwest.

So you see, I didn't really select this name.  It came out and made itself known.  So I will write on, and do my best to live up to it.  These are big, pointy boots to fill.

~AC