southern exposure
Columbia, SC: my introduction to the American south. I’m here for a Peace Science Society conference, chatting up quantitatively-oriented political scientists to get ideas for my dissertation and a project on environmental change and security that I’m working on with one of the Chicago comparativists.
The conference is at the Mariott in downtown Columbia. It’s surprisingly unassuming for a capital city of 750,000. The downtown consists of a few corporate towers, surrounded by lots of lending agencies and pawn shops, with a few weekday-only sandwich shops thrown in. I’ve seen separate recruiting offices for the army, navy, and marines. The flat daily parking rates range from $2.50-$5.00, which doesn’t exactly suggest a booming local economy. On the other hand, there’s a promising-looking art museum near the conference hotel and a fair number of lofts going in. The manager of the Quiznos where I grabbed lunch told me that Columbia’s doing pretty well. Building up gradually; “We do things slowly around here.” I found the local hipsters at the Art Bar. During the conference breaks, I’ve been perusing a free copy of the local feminist periodical: it’s called “skirt!”
The state capitol building is a few blocks away. It’s an commanding structure, typical D.C., and capped with a dome that looks oddly naval: black metal with porthole-like protrusions. In front is a memorial to the Confederate war dead, complete with proudly-fluttering Confederate flag. There’s also a plaque mentioning Sherman’s “occupation.” To the east is a monument to African American contributions to South Carolina--a juxtaposition that seems more awkward than compensatory. Or maybe awkward for being compensatory.
A few blocks downhill from the statehouse is The Vista, an emerging restaurant and retail area. It’s got some nice brick storefronts, though they’re bisected by a six-lane road/highway, which interrupts the charm. The Vista has provided a lovely lunchtime conference escape: the Motor Supply Company Bistro, a bit of CA-meets contemporary Southern cuisine. On the Friday night food front, I went to The Flying Saucer, mostly for its beer list: over 160 types, with 40+ on tap! The waitresses were all dressed in incredibly short dark plaid skirts and the music was straight 1990s: Nirvana, Tool, Smashing Pumpkins, the Cranberries...VERY worrisome to realize that this all seemed to be a intentional kitsch-pastiche of my high school years. Am I really old enough that this stuff is retro??? It doesn’t help that everyone here calls me “ma’am.”
Other than the “ma-am”-ing (and the confederate flag), I haven’t gotten much of a sense of being in “the South.” Of course, I’m in a capital city and university town: the demographic is pretty broad. And I suppose I shouldn’t expect everyone here to eat grits, own a truck, and speak with a drawl any more than I would expect all Germans to wear lederhosen. Yet, somehow, I was anticipating more “local color.” Apparently representations of the domestic Other have a stronger pull? Or, as political correctness increases, Southerners have become the one minority group that it’s still considered legitimate to mock? But where do you draw the line between condescension and enjoying cultural difference? So far, the only stereotype that’s held is the ubiquitous iced tea. And, while I appreciate the “comforts of home” (eg. soy lattes at the hotel coffee bar) there a part of me that’s a little disappointed.
The conference is at the Mariott in downtown Columbia. It’s surprisingly unassuming for a capital city of 750,000. The downtown consists of a few corporate towers, surrounded by lots of lending agencies and pawn shops, with a few weekday-only sandwich shops thrown in. I’ve seen separate recruiting offices for the army, navy, and marines. The flat daily parking rates range from $2.50-$5.00, which doesn’t exactly suggest a booming local economy. On the other hand, there’s a promising-looking art museum near the conference hotel and a fair number of lofts going in. The manager of the Quiznos where I grabbed lunch told me that Columbia’s doing pretty well. Building up gradually; “We do things slowly around here.” I found the local hipsters at the Art Bar. During the conference breaks, I’ve been perusing a free copy of the local feminist periodical: it’s called “skirt!”
The state capitol building is a few blocks away. It’s an commanding structure, typical D.C., and capped with a dome that looks oddly naval: black metal with porthole-like protrusions. In front is a memorial to the Confederate war dead, complete with proudly-fluttering Confederate flag. There’s also a plaque mentioning Sherman’s “occupation.” To the east is a monument to African American contributions to South Carolina--a juxtaposition that seems more awkward than compensatory. Or maybe awkward for being compensatory.
A few blocks downhill from the statehouse is The Vista, an emerging restaurant and retail area. It’s got some nice brick storefronts, though they’re bisected by a six-lane road/highway, which interrupts the charm. The Vista has provided a lovely lunchtime conference escape: the Motor Supply Company Bistro, a bit of CA-meets contemporary Southern cuisine. On the Friday night food front, I went to The Flying Saucer, mostly for its beer list: over 160 types, with 40+ on tap! The waitresses were all dressed in incredibly short dark plaid skirts and the music was straight 1990s: Nirvana, Tool, Smashing Pumpkins, the Cranberries...VERY worrisome to realize that this all seemed to be a intentional kitsch-pastiche of my high school years. Am I really old enough that this stuff is retro??? It doesn’t help that everyone here calls me “ma’am.”
Other than the “ma-am”-ing (and the confederate flag), I haven’t gotten much of a sense of being in “the South.” Of course, I’m in a capital city and university town: the demographic is pretty broad. And I suppose I shouldn’t expect everyone here to eat grits, own a truck, and speak with a drawl any more than I would expect all Germans to wear lederhosen. Yet, somehow, I was anticipating more “local color.” Apparently representations of the domestic Other have a stronger pull? Or, as political correctness increases, Southerners have become the one minority group that it’s still considered legitimate to mock? But where do you draw the line between condescension and enjoying cultural difference? So far, the only stereotype that’s held is the ubiquitous iced tea. And, while I appreciate the “comforts of home” (eg. soy lattes at the hotel coffee bar) there a part of me that’s a little disappointed.
posted by Emily at 7:49 PM
1 Comments:
if you're looking for the yokels you have to leave the city, especially if that city is a college town! even when you do things aren't really much different than any other rural place in america -- the accents get thicker and the politics more conservative, but that's about it. everyone still drinks starbucks and makes runs to target. the days of major cultural difference that manifests in everyday behavior are slipping away. it's people's parents and grandparents who spoke in a entirely different and amazingly colorful idiom or ate vidalia onions like apples. what we get now are echoes, of which the ma'aming is one. the truth is america is as subject to cultural homogenization by mass media and corporate chains as anywhere else in the world, it's just tougher to notice. it makes me kind of sad, actually, as i love the south and grits and sweet tea! i recommend both. the trucks and confederates, not so much. have fun.
p.s.
that 90s bar sounds terrifying. and completely alluring.
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