Nobody knows you and nobody gives a damn

Life of Pi, Yann Martel

I visited Seattle last week. I want to tell you everything that went through my mind in the two days I spent there alone, because I did a lot of thinking. But I’ve been sifting through the good and the bad and it boils down to the fact that I packed half my brain, and all my feelings into my tiny suitcase, but I left my heart across the border, and I needed it in my pocket to fall in love with this city.

I met some great fellow backpackers, as you have to do when you’re doing it solo. A beautiful Spanish doctor who had just run a marathon shared his red wine with me. I had breakfast with a divorced park ranger from Tucson, Arizona who fought off rattle snakes and lived in a tent in the desert for a year.  A 25 year old Dutch law student, who was living with a 41 year old offered me her apartment in Amsterdam. I love the travelling stories, but I wanted to the feel the city itself, because I suspected there was more than meets the wandering tourists eye. 

I took a stroll around the Pike Place Markets, and watched the fishmongers laugh and throw fish around. I snuck into a council building for a view, then admitted defeat and went up the Columbia Center observation to take some photos with the Space Needle in it. I didn’t care to spend my money on going up the needle itself. I drank coffee at the first ever Starbucks, I bought a whole lot of artsy-ish postcards at a bookshop, and I ate cheese and salami at Three Girls bakery. 

A lot of people spoke to me, mainly asking for my spare change. Sadly, a lot of sightseeing in Seattle is of the homeless, the desperate and the mentally ill, left behind by healthcare. 

There’s kindness here though, a warmth that took me by my lonely shoulder and shook me when I was so wrapped up in my own head. Outside Beechers Handmade Cheese, the man in the first photo didn’t ask me for money, but rather if I knew any vegetarian places to eat along the way. He said we should have a photo together, but I opted for one of him instead, and he smiled and wanted to know my name. I saw him several times that day and he waved at me every time. The man in the second photo told me that he was so “photomaghenic” that I needed to get him in the shot. I saw a business man stop on his way home to help a bag lady in a wheelchair open a bag of chips that she couldn’t do herself because her hands were shaking so much. I heard a Starbucks worker yell “Sing it, Alanis” when ‘You oughta know’ came on in the crowded shop. Everyone at the market asked me how my day was going. 

I later met up with a local for a drink in Capitol Hill, and finally put my finger on the pulse, hearing amazing stories about the independent film & music industry.  

Maybe it was me, maybe it was the timing but it wasn’t love, and I’m not sure I would return if I wasn’t passing through. There was definitely something about the city though… something about Seattle that I will remember fondly. I think it was that streak of charity that passed me by, the smile from the vegetarian, or maybe that sweet and sour taste I had of what it might be like to make it in America.

reginasworld:

Melt Down by Urs Fischer