The past week in Maine has been like visiting an English, pretty-American country. So like an English-speaking Puerto Rico.
I’m going to start by saying the overall belief that Northerners have no manners and are a crisp, cold kind; is something I have yet to run into.
Everyone I have met from the postal office workers to the people at the laundry mat have been kind to an almost fault.
Example: I needed a box. There is not a place to buy a box in Rangeley Maine. A random lady heard my cries and told me to follow her in her 4 by 4. Next thing I know, I’m on a dirt road about 15 miles from Rangeley on an overlook talking to a weird lady about her son’s upcoming wedding with a box in my hand.
This keeps happening. Little acts of kindness and I pass it on as much as I can. Which lead me to meeting an infamous online poker player from Florida. He is doing the Appalachian Trail to escape the digital realm but he spends time between Florida and Las Vegas. Not sure if I believe him but he gave a good story regardless.
Being a bartender has allowed me to meet people. And it’s my y’all and yes mam’s that have people having a constant flow of conversation.
A week in and I’m a little tired of telling my story. There have been majorly 3 outcomes of people learning that I’m traveling and doing a work exchange program: oh you’re trying to find yourself, tell me everything because I need to tell my son/daughter, and wonder how your parents are feeling.
A couple days into being in small-town Maine, I decided to go to a BBQ joint. The moment the waitress found out where I was from, she immediately went into a spiel about how different the BBQ was. That I shouldn’t expect what I know. It’s sweeter, lighter (somehow, I mean it’s the same meat).
Probably one of the biggest cultural breakdowns I have seen (semi-joking).
Between working and working, I haven’t had much time for much else. I’ve hiked a couple trails and seen some waterfalls. I can’t get over the views I have seen. You can never decide what is better; day or night.
During the day, you can go to overlooks and hike to the tops of mountains and you are literally in the clouds.
During the night, Rangeley is an unpolluted sky and you can spot the Milky Way.
Life in Rangeley is a small town. Everyone knows everyone else. I see people stopping in the middle of the street to have a full conversation with each other. Sometimes it feels like I’m in a Stephen King movie. Low-key segue, Stephen King owns a house over here. I’m floored and on a daily mission to not fangirl and try to find it.