I find myself living in New England.  It has been two years since I have said my final farewell to California.  During  these past two years I have been stunned by culture shock.  Massachusetts has its own breed of people.  

First I had to learn the language.  Forget phonetics when it comes to pronouncing the names of towns.  The town of Worcester is pronounced “Wooster”, Bellerica is pronounced “Billrica” and Leominster is “Leminster”.  It’s not a shopping cart its a carriage, it’s not cool it’s wicked pissah (pardon my French-I think-), and it’s not Boston it’s Bahston where people never use their blinkah (blinker).  

On the subject of drivers … Ain’t nobody does crazy like a Boston driver. There is a reason why insurance in this state is among the highest in the nation.  On a trip into the city it is unusual not to see an accident.  Turn signals, speed limits and lanes are for the weak.  This is Boston and only the tough survive.  During my first cab ride through town I may have peed a little.  

In this foreign land is a much revered place called “Dunkies”.  Apparently, it is the hub of all life here. I  have realized that Dunkies is actually Dunkin Donuts and the stereotype for fat donut-eating cops was born and proliferated here.  There is no end to the donut worship here.  (And no end to morbidly obese police officers too.). 

  
But then again you sure can’t beat the otherworldly beauty of fall in New England or the image of white sail boats dappling the rugged Atlantic coast.  This is my new home but my heart is still in California.  For now while I am a wanderer in this land, I will have my clam chowdah and eat it too. 

  

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