Becoming Odyssa - Jennifer Pharr Davis [77]
At one point, Wendy sent me on a mission to pick out four ears of corn from a bin overflowing with produce. After I made my selection, I wandered to the opposite end of the display, where Wegmans had provided a large trash receptacle for husking corn. I had peeled back the green shell of one ear when a pint-sized woman in high-heels and designer clothes elbowed in front of me and monopolized direct access to the husking station.
Like animals around a kill, three women hovered around the trash bin, unwilling to relinquish their positions, tearing the husks and silk strands off their corn so frantically that discarded remnants flew through the air. Talk about living in the wild! Lacking the killer instinct, I placed my four unshucked ears in a clear plastic bag and resigned myself to doing the chore at Wendy’s house.
Skulking back to seek my cousin’s protection, I followed Wendy to a section within Wegmans, comparable to the size of an average grocery store, dedicated entirely to organic and all-natural foods. I reluctantly chose my favorite combinations of seeds, nuts, and dried fruit, and hesitantly pointed to which organic rolled-oat bar looked the most appealing.
I was relieved to finally make it safely back to Wendy’s home, where Lila greeted me with a huge hug, followed by, “Jen-Jen, you stinky!”
Her vocabulary had increased since my last visit.
After a long shower, I spent the rest of the afternoon acting out Dora the Explorer with my baby cousin. Dora the Explorer is an animated show that features a young, bilingual adventurer climbing mountains, crossing oceans, and surviving educationally valuable dilemmas with her trusty backpack, map, and monkey sidekick. Lila and I spent hours replicating Dora’s adventures, pretending to hike, camp, and read a map.
I loved Dora. I wanted to be Dora, except I wanted a bear as a sidekick, instead of a monkey. I was now well aware that most people thought it was dangerous for a woman to be in the woods by herself, but obviously they had never watched Dora—or been to Wegmans.
It was important to me that Lila felt that the wilderness was safe, and that it was a place she would want to go. She didn’t have to be a hiker; I didn’t care if she ever hiked the Appalachian Trail. I just didn’t want her to be afraid of the woods. And whether she learned that from Dora or me didn’t matter, as long as she got the message.
For two days, my cousins nourished me with food and love. When it was time to return to the trail, I was sad to leave Wendy and Lila, but I was ready to say good-bye to suburbia. I was ready to leave behind the endless maze of housing developments. I was ready get away from the busy roads where “driving” consisted of accelerating to sixty mph, then braking to a screeching halt. And I was ready to leave a place where everything you could ever want was available for purchase, and return to a place where I was content to carry only the items that I needed.
I was surprised at how close the trail came to the nation’s capitol. Hiking through northern Virginia, West Virginia, and Maryland, it was strange to think that I was in the middle of the woods and, at the same time, just an hour’s drive away from the President of the United States.
I was constantly reminded of the region’s historical significance, since the trail frequently opened up into fields where a preserved building, historic monument, plaque, or war memorial was located. I had always loved studying history in school, but on the trail the lessons felt more personal. When the trail passed through Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, I thought about John Brown’s raid that had taken place there. I wondered, if I had been a slave, or if I had been white and lived 150 years ago, whether I would have had the courage to fight against slavery.
Hiking beyond Harper’s Ferry, it occurred to me that only in the past