I wrote this essay a few months before moving abroad.

“How the heck did you wind up here”? 

I’m a native NYC girl. I arrived in Virginia in 2015 for a holiday visit.  I was living in France at the time and unsure about the coming year. I enrolled at the local community college and here I am. I am preparing to return to France in the next two weeks. It’s appropriate to take stock of my cultural experience in Mathews Virginia.

As a country girl my heels were the first thing to go. The soft earth devoured my designer oxford heels. Driving is a large part of my routine. I was surprised how much my body suffered because of driving. My hips and lower back locked, my shoulders ache and my anxiety stoked. Can someone explain how one can drive and smoke at the same time? How can they talk on the phone and while disciplining a child ? How do they also neglect to signal before changing lanes? Anyone? 

As a city girl I rely on public transportation. Sidewalks, vendors, food trucks and city parks make NYC a pedestrian’s dream. No gym required, just a pair of sneakers and a smile.As a country girl, I love taking Sugar & Denver (our family dogs ) for walks along Beaver Damn. Or weather permitting, I practice yoga on the back deck. 

As a city girl I’m a straight shooter. I appreciate the same when it comes to exchanging pleasantries and information. As a country girl, my language is dipped in beer batter and deep fried. It is drizzled with honey and sprinkled with sugar. It is topped with a “bless your heart.” This manner of speaking is part of the culture. Anything less is unappetizing and just plain rude.

As a city girl, I enjoyed Salsa dancing in a Prohibition era speakeasy. The rhythm of the music pulsed through my veins. The atmosphere was thick with an air of rebellion and excitement. It was a piece of the city’s scandalous past. The unfinished wood floors creaked underfoot. The original oak bar was polished to a warm sheen. Rust-stained mirrors whispered secrets of nights long gone. It was a romantic gem from a time when things were built to last. The spirit of the Roaring Twenties still lingered in the dimly lit corners. The laughter of patrons echoed in harmony with the lively tunes. In stark contrast, as a country girl, my social activities revolve around the local library. There, I lose myself in the pages of novels and free movie rentals. I also make frequent visits to Starbucks. I savor the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee while catching up with friends in a cozy atmosphere. It blends tranquility with the joy of community.

As a city girl, I bought wine at an old-world spot. It smelled of mildew and cigars. The air was thick with history and the walls whispered stories of times gone by. As a country girl, I make my own. I dive into the world of home fermentation with a sense of adventurous curiosity. My homemade brew won’t win any medals. Yet creating something with my own hands is rewarding in itself. The simple fermented fruit sugar concoction is made from seasonal fruits and a dash of creativity. It gives you a hefty buzz for pennies on the dollar. This allows my family to enjoy our evenings over our homemade brew. I savor the process of crafting my own unique blends.

I was happy to trade the smell of urine in the subway. Now, I enjoy the delightful aromas of honeysuckle. Fresh-cut grass dances in the warm breeze. It’s time to put on my heels and move on from the slower pace filled with nature’s beauty. I was dreaming of a different existence. Little did I know, I would wind up living on a private vineyard. It overlooks the breathtaking Mediterranean Sea. Rows of lush grapevines, almond trees and wild asparagus surround me. They are swaddled by pink golden sunsets. Wild boars playfully roam the grounds.