One of the neat things that Portland can offer that most East coast areas can't is that there aren't as many people who have deep roots there. Of the Under-50 crowd at Peace Church you'd be considered practically a native of the town if you've been here more than ten years. Even the older generations rarely can claim Portland or even the state as their place of birth. For those of you reading this who are familiar with the East coast you know that you aren't "from" someplace usually unless your great-great-great grandparents are buried in the local cemetery. (For those of you claiming West coast origins, I'm only kinda joking about that last part.) With so many new faces it seems to be almost more welcoming of a city than most places I've lived before. Heck, most everybody you know was a newbie on the block at some point here so they can still remember what it was like settling in to the area. Yay for Portland.
While a good number of Portlanders are transplants, we sometimes are reminded of how recently we arrived here, even if we're beginning to feel like we belong to the city and the area. For example, there is this fun phenomenon where (at least Heather and I) mix up which direction is East and West. I can't necessarily vouch for Heather, but I know I can clearly see a map in my head when I am incorrectly telling someone that I was headed North then turned right and was going West. Heather and I have figured that it must be because in Virginia (and Maryland and Pennsylvania and North Carolina and...), West means mountains and rural living while East means a higher population density and the coast. Therefore, when we head toward the city and away from the mountains (well, the bigger mountains) then it only seems logical that we're heading East. We'll get it right eventually.
Another good indicator that we aren't true Portlanders yet is how we deal with snow. Actually, the fact we even deal with it is a pretty good sign that we aren't from Multnomah County. It's as if we're all of a sudden in Atlanta when there's snow in the forecast and everyone freaks out and the schools close before the first flake falls. A few days before Thanksgiving there was a forecast of snow and Heather was checking for school closings to see if she'd need to go to work the next day. One school district actually closed school for the following day and the day after that without a single snowflake sighting. I sure hope I never get to that point. Otherwise, all of my friends in New England and the Great Lakes region just might pee their pants from laughing so hard at me.
Possibly the greatest indicator that we aren't fully converted Portlanders is that we consider (fine, at least I consider) taking an umbrella with us when we're headed out into the rain. The fact that we're still going out in the rain instead of rescheduling or calling off whatever was on our to-do list is a step in the right direction. Still, there's that moment of hesitation where we look out the window and think, "Ugh. I really don't wanna be wet." Slowly, that pause by the panes is fading away to an afterthought half a block down the road.
Being that I really don't have any concrete plans after the end of this year it's hard to guess whether or not what I'm learning now will come in handy down the road. For now, it's a learning experience.
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