As a Pennsylvanian newly transplanted in north east Georgia, and a city girl moved to a small town, I'd like to share some of my observations. First of all, who knew that one small town could support so many Fried Chicken and Bar B Que joints. Seriously. Do they eat much else? The grocery store isles assure me that they do, and I can even find some of the lesser known ingredients that are general staples in my pantry (chinese rice noodles, yay!).
Also, they do speak English here. And I speak English. But there are moments when I have to translate. I hear the words, but they don't make sense. I have to slowly, mentally repeat what was said sometimes more than once, before I know what was said. It's usually not to bad since this isn't my first foray into the world of southern accents (Thanks, Lynchburg!)
And then, the things they say. My favorite was this one, from a discussion among some ladies at church, "He was sweats worse than a rented mule." I don't even remember who we were talking about, which is probably a blessing. I laughed so hard. This is so far outside of my experience that I would never think to say that. There are more, but as this is already becoming a long post I'll wrap it up.
I do want to say that I love where we are. I love the people we've met. I love the church we're a part of. None of these things I joked about are bad. They're just my observations of things that are noticeably different from my big city, decidedly Yankee "home." I am glad to be calling Georgia home.
Oh, and keep an eye out for more colloquialisms. I think I'm gonna start a collection, "y'all!"
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