In my previous post, I may have misled folks into thinking that Chapel Hill, NC is a neat place, rather than the quagmire of corporate debauchery and drunken college kids that it really is. I offer this correction.
Chapel Hill is merely the area that I passed thru on my way from one really cool place to another. Frankly, I’m not at all sure where Chapel Hill, Carrboro, Pittsboro, Durham, Fuquay Varina, and for that matter, Silk Hope, start and stop. I guess it’s like Chicago—unless you live(d) there, you’d call anything north of Kankakee, IL “Chicago”. Poor ignorant fool.
So here is a summary of how I spent my week in “The Triangle”, leading me to believe that the area may be a really good fit for me.
Sunday afternoon, met with a realtor. Nice lady, but neither here nor there on the “good fit” thing. I could live without her. Checked in with my hosts, who are very kind, patient people that have a Chapel Hill mailing address but do not really LIVE in Chapel Hill. Otherwise, I’m sure that I would not enjoy their company nearly as much.
Monday morning went to a group home for autistic adults that is not in Chapel Hill, but not really in Pittsboro. Called the “Carolina Living and Learning Center”, it is an arm of the University of North Carolina, but its office mailing address is actually in the town of Carrborough. Now, I’ll need to be forgiven if I get my various ‘boroughs’ and ‘boros’ confused…surely it is too much to expect that I’d get that straight when there is absolutely no rhyme or reason to which towns spell it which way.
Anyway, lots of good folks at the CLLC, and they had agreed to let me observe their rather unique system of residential and vocation programs for half-days that week in exchange for half-days of hard work. So, mornings, I lurked, and afternoons I mowed and weed-ate in the 80+ degree delightful sun, working harder, and sweating more, than I probably ever have in my life.
Took a day off on Thursday and went on my first real kayak trip in the Eno River. The total experience can only be trivialized by attaching words to it. More than sight and sound, really just a total gestalt experience in an incredibly beautiful, peaceful place. After at least 5 hours of intermittent paddling, it was exhilarating to realize that I actually have the physical stamina to do stuff like this!
Friday nite, attended a potluck dinner held at the solar commune that I spent my free time negotiating to buy into all week. The people that I met that night (this place has a Durham address, but it’s not ACTUALLY in Durham—I don’t think anyplace in “The Triangle” is actually really ANYWHERE) were very warm, welcoming, and easy to be with—after visiting on the porch with one couple and in the living room of another, I felt ready to move in. That, and the fact that there is only one Republican household there out of more than 30…
Solterra has a community garden and orchard, paths connecting all of the lots, AND, they are not out and out opposed to a few chickens…
Saturday, I accompanied my hosts to the Shakori Hills Grassroots Festival, in Silk Hope, NC. Guess it was here that the notion of ‘regression’ was solidified…hearing live music such as I used to listen to every weekend in the early 70’s. While I’ll NEVER have the abandon to dance free-form as many folks did, I could feel 75% of my muscles twitching in an effort to do so.
And I spoke with a sincere young man promoting his biodiesel co-op (in Pittsboro), and witnessed a man bartering a macramé dog leash for two “veggie things” at a food stand. And tried to figure out how they got rocks to stack up in amazingly stable configurations, and tracked down the guinea fowl that sounded just like the squeaky oil pumps that dot the landscape in Mattoon, Illinois.
And then, there is the food co-op opening in Pittsboro, and the possibility of one day working at the farm community for autistic adults…I’ve probably missed something, but that’s a start.
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