Monkey Don't Believe in No Stinking Curse
28.10.04
26.10.04
15.10.04
Savannah Ghost Tour
Kehoe House
Haunted tours may seem a little dorky or gimmicky to some, but a good one will mix history and gossip to give you a different, insider's view of the city. Savannah certainly has its share of haunted tours available - some by trolley, one by pop-up hearse, and many by foot. I lucked out when I chose the Hauntings Tour that sets out from Wright Square at 7 & 9, nightly.
Savannah has been named the Most Haunted City in America, but our tour guide Robert disagrees and begins to list off a number of cities that are probably just as haunted or moreso - Salem, Boston, Chicago, New Orleans. But just that little introduction puts you in the mood to see spirits and to feel like Savannah may not be more haunted than those other cities, but they sure seem to be comfortable living with the dead. Robert says one reason for this is that Savannahians literally live with the dead - human remains from one era or another are likely just beneath your feet any time you are walking through the historic downtown area.
The Hauntings Tour covers a relatively small area between Wright Square and Colonial Park cemetery, but is packed with history and legend. The tour is based on two books that have backed up old ghost tales with historical documentation. One is Savannah Spectres, written in the 90's, and the other is Drums and Shadows, a collection of local African-American traditions and folklore written in the 30's. After a few stops, though, it becomes clear that native-son Robert is an impressive oral historian with a network of informants all over the city. At most stops, he has a story related by a waiter or inn guest within the past few years.
Besides the more ghoulish aspects of the city, Robert is quick to rattle off the history and etymology of Georgia Grey Bricks and the pranks that Sherman's troops played in the graveyard during the war of Northern aggression (There it is again!!). He can tell you the history of each floor of the buildings we pass - from builders through owners and renovators, and which hurricanes, fires and plagues caused the changes.
Two of the more haunted spots we stop at are also the most interesting architecturally and historically. Both the Owens-Thomas house and its near neighbor the Kehoe House were built to be indestructible come hell or high water (literally). After 3 major fires and who knows how many hurricanes, a few wealthy folks around town decided to build impervious fortresses.
The Owens-Thomas House is notable for a number of reasons. It was designed by architect William Jay before he was even 21, is made of thick tabby, Lafayette gave a speech from the side balcony, and it's good and haunted. The long gone lady of the house is often seen strolling about her garden and Jim Williams (can't escape him in this city) reported seeing a ghost he called The Horseman in the upstairs apartments in 1966.
The Kehoe House's first owner was the head of the Iron Foundry, so he took a slightly different approach to making his house indestructible. All the outside trim - moldings, shutters, even the stair railing - is made of iron and is thus fireproof! The house actually served as a mortuary for a number of decades and guests now eat their breakfast in the viewing room. Recent guests have added a number of eyewitness ghost sitings to the tour. One night, two different guests heard an ear-piercing scream followed by the sound of a body falling downstairs. Both ran out of their rooms to find only each other in the hallway. Another guest stayed home from the Oktoberfest fireworks last year, only to be pestered by a ghostly little girl who was scared by the loud noise of the display.
Downtown Monkeys
This monkey was hanging out at the Moon River Brewery
The Brewery was pretty good, though I only sampled the Wit beer and the Savannah Fest, they were both awesome. But the best part was that in the history of the building on the back of the menu, they used the phrase "The war of Northern Aggression" - nice!
Monkey wants to check his email
This little monkey wanted to check his email at the Boba cafe in City Market. I really liked all the coffee and tea houses in Savannah. Most were pretty comfy and they all served wine or beer, which is so European I love it! The barrista at Boba was super friendly and answered all my questions about tourists and the downtown restoration and the Red Sox :-)
Monkey In The Garden of Good and Evil
Monkey at Mercer House
I'll admit that I never much thought of visiting Savannah before I saw Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (and I'll also admit that I never actually read the book), but I wasn't actually interested in focusing our time there on The Movie. By total coincidence, our hotel was just one square up from Mercer House.
Monkey enjoying a fine old house in Savannah
This house didn't have any historical markers or other indication as to whether is was a home or business, but Monkey still found it rather charming.
7.10.04
Portsmouth
When I was a sophomore in high school, we had a summer assignment for history class that required a visit to a historic landmark, living history museum, or reenactment site. I chose Stawberry Banke , a living history museum near Portsmouth that dealt with the historical inhabitants of various eras. Though I have a lot of friends who attended UNH, I really haven't spent much time in that area since then.
But walking around Portsmouth last weekend, it felt very much like walking around a piece of history. Most of the buildings are old and made of brick (I assume because it can weather the ocean winds better than wood), working boats are docked in the harbor, and the downtown movie theater's billboard looks like it hasn't been changed since 1952.
Portsmouth seems to be the blueprint for all other small, post-industrial New England. The downtown area covers a solid grid of curvy blocks and is bustling. Storefronts ranging from Gap & Starbucks to local coffee, furniture, and stationary stores line the streets. The parking is plentiful and cheap, but most people out enjoying the lovely fall weather on Sunday morning had just popped downstairs from the aparments that took up the higher storeys. Most people were just leisurely enjoying coffee at an outside table or waiting in line at one of the breakfast places. A few ladies were doing some heavy duty shopping and Portsmouth seems well able to support a number of high end and specialty shops.
One of the coolest things to see was the PortsmouthWiFi bumper sticker in the information kiosk. Even cooler was that it was staffed at 11 am on a Sunday by a pleasant older lady who was explaining how to get to Strawberry Banke with the use of the goofy cartoon map.
But walking around Portsmouth last weekend, it felt very much like walking around a piece of history. Most of the buildings are old and made of brick (I assume because it can weather the ocean winds better than wood), working boats are docked in the harbor, and the downtown movie theater's billboard looks like it hasn't been changed since 1952.
Portsmouth seems to be the blueprint for all other small, post-industrial New England. The downtown area covers a solid grid of curvy blocks and is bustling. Storefronts ranging from Gap & Starbucks to local coffee, furniture, and stationary stores line the streets. The parking is plentiful and cheap, but most people out enjoying the lovely fall weather on Sunday morning had just popped downstairs from the aparments that took up the higher storeys. Most people were just leisurely enjoying coffee at an outside table or waiting in line at one of the breakfast places. A few ladies were doing some heavy duty shopping and Portsmouth seems well able to support a number of high end and specialty shops.
One of the coolest things to see was the PortsmouthWiFi bumper sticker in the information kiosk. Even cooler was that it was staffed at 11 am on a Sunday by a pleasant older lady who was explaining how to get to Strawberry Banke with the use of the goofy cartoon map.
4.10.04
Self-Redefinition
In this month's National Geographic Adventure magazine, a handful of writers who are featured in this year's Best American Travel Writing gave short quotes on traveling. Adam Gopnik observed that the central experience of travel is self-escape. I think that's pretty accurate and I was musing on that as I discussed living in Budapest with my friend Chris (who had) and his brother Mike (who hadn't). Mike was asking why I loved living in Hungary so much and when I couldn't come up with anything less abstract than "It felt right," he suggesting it was because there I was the foreigner and thus special and unique. He didn't quite hit the nail on the head in my case, but he was close. If travel is about self-escape, ex-patriation is about self-redefinition.
When you move somewhere else, you remove the constraints of context and history that make up a large part of who you see yourself as and how others see you. Most people experience this in a small way when they move to college or take on a new job. Your new peer group doesn't remember you spilling chocolate milk on your dress at the 8th grade dance or already have you pegged as the perpetual designated driver, so you can be who you have evolved into and not have to fit into a pre-existing role.
When you move to a new country, however, the unmooring is much more comprehensive. Parts of your identity that you think of as fixed - your race, religion, region of origin, ethnic background - mean entirely different things (or nothing at all). When I moved to Hungary, one of the things that really changed for me was how I viewed the political spectrum. I've been a bleeding-heart since junior high and I have always held that the left was the side of the aisle that stood for goodness. After all, in America, liberals are the champions of women's rights, gay rights, helping the poor, and improving public education. Clearly, left is always good. Not so in a post-communist country. To Hungarians, the left side of the spectrum meant communism which meant a brutal and repressive dictatorship. Suddenly my political place - what I stood for and who I fought against - had changed. Not only were my beliefs much closer to center, but many of the issues that place me on the left in the first place - free education, separation of church & state, health care for everyone - are either non-issues or come at from an entirely different perspective and base of experience.
The other great impact that expatriation has on identity is in meeting other ex-pats. I know a lot of people completely eschew the ex-pat scene and I agree that it's cheating and a waste to move to Japan just to hang out with a bunch of your countrymen. But spending time with other ex-pats (including those from other countries of origin) can be awesome. You suddenly find yourself among a group of people who share your sense of adventure and willingness to try new things and who have likely started to gain the kind of cultural sensitivity that only comes from understanding that other cultures may be different but they aren't Other.
When you move somewhere else, you remove the constraints of context and history that make up a large part of who you see yourself as and how others see you. Most people experience this in a small way when they move to college or take on a new job. Your new peer group doesn't remember you spilling chocolate milk on your dress at the 8th grade dance or already have you pegged as the perpetual designated driver, so you can be who you have evolved into and not have to fit into a pre-existing role.
When you move to a new country, however, the unmooring is much more comprehensive. Parts of your identity that you think of as fixed - your race, religion, region of origin, ethnic background - mean entirely different things (or nothing at all). When I moved to Hungary, one of the things that really changed for me was how I viewed the political spectrum. I've been a bleeding-heart since junior high and I have always held that the left was the side of the aisle that stood for goodness. After all, in America, liberals are the champions of women's rights, gay rights, helping the poor, and improving public education. Clearly, left is always good. Not so in a post-communist country. To Hungarians, the left side of the spectrum meant communism which meant a brutal and repressive dictatorship. Suddenly my political place - what I stood for and who I fought against - had changed. Not only were my beliefs much closer to center, but many of the issues that place me on the left in the first place - free education, separation of church & state, health care for everyone - are either non-issues or come at from an entirely different perspective and base of experience.
The other great impact that expatriation has on identity is in meeting other ex-pats. I know a lot of people completely eschew the ex-pat scene and I agree that it's cheating and a waste to move to Japan just to hang out with a bunch of your countrymen. But spending time with other ex-pats (including those from other countries of origin) can be awesome. You suddenly find yourself among a group of people who share your sense of adventure and willingness to try new things and who have likely started to gain the kind of cultural sensitivity that only comes from understanding that other cultures may be different but they aren't Other.
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