Memories of Iowa

The only mental picture of Iowa that I had before embarking on a road trip last weekend was that of driving through corn fields. All I had heard about it from politicians speaking to campaign crowds on television always included something about “corn fields” or the “hawkeye”. I never quite figured out what the hawkeye refers to, but what impressed me the most about driving through the state was something just as green: windmills.

Much of the midwest is a flat terrain. The view of the sunset out of my window in Southern Illinois at 6 o’ clock in the evening is one of the best I’ve seen anywhere. Being on the road at anytime from five pm anywhere around these parts is – if only for the view of the sun disappearing gently out of sight – one of the most pleasant. The trip however started earlier in the morning so we had a benefit of the sunrise as well. By the time we got to Iowa, after driving past Hannibal, it was already past noon. We had a stopover at Godfather’s Pizza (Herman Cain’s old job), and had our first encounter of a different kind of Midwestern accent.

Back to windmills. Somehow, for some reason, my idea of states with green priorities and dependence on wind energy never quite fit my image of Midwestern states. I thought of places San Francisco, or San Diego, or other parts of California and other mostly blue states: Hawaii, Rhode Island, etc. So when driving for about four hours through Iowa, everywhere we saw on the horizon had dozens of windmills, there was some disorientation. It eventually made sense with the realization that the flatness of the land makes the tapping of wind energy a sensible investment. (A news story about the disenfranchisement of ex-felons in the state eventually punctured my idea of the state as mostly progressive in politics, but that’s the story for another time).

At Cedar Rapids, we stopped by the Czech Village, a small neighbourhood created to celebrate the contribution of Czech and Slovak cultures to the United States. The small art shop which now houses a temporary exhibit of some of its most prized artworks welcomed guests with open arms. In 2008, it became the victim of flooding brought about by rain and the overflowing of the Cedar River. Today, a line runs about seven feet high in the art store showing guests the level of water when the whole neighborhood almost went under. As tall as I am, it took me stretching all my arm to be able to reach the water mark. The National Czech & Slovak Museum and Library itself was just a few blocks away. With contributions from donors from around the country, it has now been rebuilt and refurbished, and would be opened officially on July 14 and 15. (Little trivia: former President Bill Clinton was at the initial opening of the library in 1995, along with the president of Czech Republic and Slovakia.)

There are a few other memories involving Clear Lake, and Des Moines, two different but equally enchanting cities. Clear Lake it was where the three famous rock and roll musicians died in a plane crash in 1959. No coincidence, it was also where, on encountering a surprise traffic buildup on the highway close to Mason City, our vehicle got into a bumper-to-bumper accident involving two other cars. No one was hurt, except two of the cars. Des Moines is the capital of Iowa, with one of the most fascinating capitol buildings I’ve seen so far. Well, the car is still in Iowa, which means that there’s another trip coming up soon to pick it up. This time, we just might be able to spend a few more hours exploring Iowa City, the state’s second largest city, and maybe at Waterloo – the birthplace of John Wayne.

Iowa makes it the fifth Midwestern state I’ve visited so far, after Missouri, Minnesota, Illinois, and Kansas. One day soon, maybe there will be Indiana, Ohio, Wisconsin and Michigan. I sense a book of travel stories coming up. Each of the state capitols around the country present unique delights. And like the huge one in Providence (RI), Iowa’s is a gold-plated dome in Des Moines that sits on a massive building. In front of it is a statue of three figures from the state’s history, all facing westwards. Iowa, we also found, is home to one of the oldest mosques in the United States, also with the first National Muslim Cemetery in North America. The things we learn everyday.

I guess that explains why it has remained a swing state for a while.

Iowa Sights

I spent the weekend driving through Iowa en route to Minneapolis. The trip itself however ended up as a trip to Iowa with a short stopover in Minneapolis. Here are a few pictures from “the Hawkeye State” which, to surprise, turned out to be more progressive – at least to the eyes, and to first impressions – than previously imagined from distant reports.

From the ubiquity of private windmills, and the stretch of corn fields for long miles, the presence of many impressive art museums, and the ornately designed capitol building with a bronze cast of Abraham Lincoln and his son Tag, the state was a pleasant surprise.

But, there being the limit to exploring a whole state with just a few hours to spare, we could only do so much. I am hoping to return there again in the coming weeks, this time perhaps to see the birthplace of John Wayne, and other sites in the town of Waterloo.

Men On the Road

It snowed here yesterday, for the first time this season. The last time I saw my first snow was Christmas day 2009 and I’d wondered if the snow always timed itself for a special occasion. Yesterday was Thanskgiving and the snowfall was just as appropriate a blessing. I spent much of the day as a guest of a family my friend and fellow student linguist in St. Louis playing pool, getting stuffed (in a good, gastronomically pleasant way), laughing, meeting new people, and just being a good young boy in pleasant company. I haven’t done this in a while so it was a good break out of the stress of chasing the trees of syntax or the twists of ESL teaching assessment procedures.

Now I’m back home listening to George Lopez monologue of race jokes: “Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. And if you’re Native American, happy Thursday…” It was a wonderful day.

Tomorrow will find me on the road with three other gentlemen on a trip across at least two state lines. We are heading to the state of Kansas in search of knowledge and treasures. On this trip, we intend to visit the famous World War I Museum at Kansas City as well as the Westminster College in Fulton, Missouri, where British Prime Minister Winston Churchill delivered his now famous “Iron Curtain” Speech in March 1946. There are no train routes from Edwardsville to Kansas City as there are between the many states of Europe because this country built its own treasures in Interstate roads rather than rails. And what a shame that would have been in the absence of a true pleasure of driving across town. And it is for that reason that this road trip will serve two main goals: one, to discover what lay in the westward side of the country while passing through the countryside with our feet virtually on the ground; and two, to spend the rest of our free time undertaking an endeavour more productive than remaining at home to stare out the window at migrating birds.

Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on who’s talking – snow has begun to fall and promises to make the journey even a little more colourful. See you at the end of the weekend, except of course we also get a chance to use the internet. And Happy Thanksgiving to you.

PS: Kansas City, not particularly a famous tourist destination reportedly has more boulevards than Paris and more fountains than any other city in the world except for Rome. (Source: Wikitravel). This explains why EVERYONE we’ve told of this trip had responded with “What the hell is in Kansas City?” I guess we’re about to find out.

Dotdotdot

This is how writing procrastination works: you tell yourself that you have nothing worth saying, and you wait until such a time when you think you do. Usually that time never comes and you stare day by day at the empty page hoping that something miraculous would happen and fill up the page. You could be lucky to have tonnes of other things to do to take up your space and time, but if you have been notorious in the past for writing even under extreme pressures of work, teaching, classes, events and many things else, you would usually not be forgiven for taking any kind of break. Yes, I know the works.

The evil thing about procrastination however is that it never ends. Like the fabled Sisyphus bound to head to the top of the hill with a ball of garbage only to be sent downhill rolling with no brakes, and to be condemned to repeat the same process for eternity, each day comes and goes, and the readers wait, and wait. In some cases the writer gets a kind of cruel satisfaction from keeping them in that kind of wait. Well, I never promised you to publish my everyday thoughts. I keep some of them for private people, or send some of them to newspaper editors in hope that they find them good enough to publish. And well, I’m such a risk taker myself and I wouldn’t mind to hear news that someone actually placed a bet that I would not write as much this month as I usually do. Wait a minute, why am I talking to myself?

All of this make a kind of sense, doesn’t it, and there is a win at every turn. The other thing that could bring a greater fun would be hours spent talking to people about an intending road trip: twenty-three hours on the road towards Las Vegas and California. Now wouldn’t that be something? Yet, it won’t be sufficient excuse to stay off the blog for that period of time. Well whatever, life goes on. 🙂