Scary snowman in Harvard Sq. terrifies the locals. Brilliant stuff.

[IrishAyes]

33. I realize you were going by the STUDIES. But STUDIES don't always give the whole picture, not to

mention as you did the various time frames of the STUDIES. I'd read plenty of those STUDIES myself before daring to move to a remote area where I knew not a soul. I did know that at the very least I'd face a settling in period, but the xenophobic venom thrown at me at first was still a heavy shock. Everybody likes to think of their own small town as Mayberry, when it's far more a cross between Peyton Place and Beirut. If an outsider dares plop down in their midst w/o invitation or permission, they don't take it lightly no matter who you are. If you happen to be a liberal Northeast DamnYankee Yellow Dog Democrat, you're pushing a giant boulder up a steep hill for years before some of them will give you the time of day - and some never will. No matter how hard you try to keep interactions neutral and free of politics, they see the campaign sign in your yard, they notice 'you don't talk like you're from around here!' etc. Perhaps most galling of all, they see or hear about the letters you write to the local newspaper.

With the luck of the Irish and YEARS of hard work trying to build bridges, if you're lucky you might be reasonably welcome at a local church. People will stop getting up and moving when you sit beside them in a pew or at table. Many will start to smile and wave when they see you, perhaps throw a brief friendly chat your way. But make the least hint of interest in joining a subgroup and you'll find they've suddenly disbanded. "Been thinking about it for years; low attendance, etc." Then for the forseeable future you'll continue to see and hear announcements of their next meeting. One evening when I really needed a lift, I tiptoed over to the UMC around the corner and sat in a dark side room listening to the bell choir practice. That music always cheers me up. While I sat there in the shadows, mellowing out nicely, the pastor rushed in all stirred up because his wife had told him I might ask to join the bell choir. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his voice shook as he tried to dissuade me from something I assured him I had no intention of doing.

So during my 8 years here, I've seen more than a few newcomers, usually couples, arrive starry eyed and before long run screaming into the night. The only chance a new arrival has is to already have relatives here, or to move from within a hundred mile radius AND then fit seamlessly into the fascist political milleu. During my virtual incarceration here I've very slowly chipped away at some of the armor, but I have no illusions as to how far it will get me. Fortunately I was an Army brat and career Army man's wife, so I have loads of independence and adaptability. Quite frankly I do prefer my own company to theirs 90% of the time. But I have to venture out occasionally, if nothing else than for the sound of live human voices regardless of what they're saying. After 3 years I'm beginning to feel reasonably welcome at the UMC Sunday School adult class, and they've got a new, more progressive pastor now who doesn't make me want to throw books at him. That's about as good as its going to get. I'm not satisfied by any means, but I'm reasonably content. It beats the hell out of a cardboard box under a bridge somewhere.