Beantown

October 5, 2002

I was in Cambridge, MA, for some technical training most of the last week. During my stay I walked the Freedom Trail in Boston, perused the shops in Harvard Square, sampled different ethnic foods, and took my first ride on a subway train.

Being a lifelong resident of North Dakota, I have not been to many larger cities. Until last week, I'd never been to a large city by myself. As a result, I was a bit worried about safety or crime, getting lost and ending up in the "wrong" neighborhood, etc. Surprisingly, this was not a problem. It was quite an experience.

Before the trip, it was somewhat of a mystery to me -- how could people live so packed together? After the visit, it makes more sense. North Dakota is proud of its "small-town" atmosphere. The friendly neighborhoods and so on.

I live in one of these North Dakota cities. I don't know a single person in my building. I never talk to them and they, for all I know, are unaware of my existence. Unless I'm missing something, this town seems cold.

Surely the bigger cities can be lonely places too, but my first impression was certainly not that. People were everywhere, talking and enjoying each others company. There were street performers and strangers, gathered together and enjoying it all in public spaces.

While I still love North Dakota (and I always will), Boston and Cambridge did not seem like the insane places I imagined them to be. Sure, the city definitely has problems with the homeless and cleanliness. What is that stench, anyway? But that big college town is admittedly attractive (as are so many of the female Harvard students that call it home.)

After the rush of subways, classes, miles of pavement-pounding, and sightseeing, I arrived back home. It's 39 degrees and rainy today, a miserable weekend with a snowy forecast bringing little hope for outdoor activity. It's one of those days where one can be lazy from gray dawn to gloomy dusk and feel perfectly justified.