Idaho minorities and Californian transplants

As Asian woman passed me by today.  She was the first Asian I remember seeing since I returned to Idaho.  My wife is Asian, so that’s a misperception (when I look at my wife I don’t think of her ethnicity).  Seeing this Asian woman in an Idaho store reminded me of how long it’s been since I’ve stayed in a place with so few minorities.  When I grew up in North Idaho, I thought nothing of the fact that my high school did not have any minority students.  Not even Hispanics, many of whom live in Washington State.  The only family of minority descent that I knew as a kid was an African American family living in the area.  They loved living in Idaho despite being the only African American family in a 15-20 mile radius.  Even today, North Idaho is still a very Caucasian place.  Southern Idaho, particularly Boise, the state capital and largest city, is more diverse.  Most recent Idaho transplants are Caucasian, and most hail from Southern California and the Bay Area. 
 
Idaho, especially North Idaho, has been unfairly labeled a racist place, largely because of stories about the Aryan Nations white supremists who made their home in Hayden Lake, Idaho, and the presence of controversial residents such as Bo Gritz and Mark Fuhrman.  In fact, Idaho is home to an eclectic group of people in spite of an underrepresentation of minority groups.  Despite its socio-demographic reputation, I believe that Idahoans are extremely friendly people and that minorities would find Idahoans generally tolerant of all ethnic groups.  Minorities may find it difficult to obtain necessities to help them maintain their own cultural identities (such as finding good kimchi), but I believe that they would be warmly welcomed by locals if they moved to Idaho.  Idaho’s minorities groups have strongly influenced Idaho’s history.  In fact, during the 1860’s Idaho had more ethnic Chinese living within its territory than Americans, Chinese who came to mine for gold.  Moscow, Idaho was named by Russian settlers, Coeur d’Alene by French trappers.  Garden City, a Boise suburb, was originally settled by Chinese farmers.  Over 1,000 students, or one in eleven students at the University of Idaho are of minority descent.  Each year the university hosts the prestigious Lionel Hampton Jazz Festival, one of the country’s largest university music festivals.  Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce tribe stands as one of the most famous Native Americans in American history and one of my favorite historical figures.
 
Interestingly, Californians actually face more opposition in Idaho than minorities do.  Thousands of Californians have relocated to Idaho in recent years, sending housing prices and property taxes through the roof.  Pristine rural areas have given way to wall-to-wall subdivisions.  Lakes once open for recreation have become ponds for the wealthy.  Californians who made a lot of money from good jobs and real estate have cashed in and relocated to Idaho for a cheaper, more comfortable lifestyle.  Many came to retire here.  Unfortunately, most do not bring good jobs with them, leaving the locals to work service sector jobs that don’t pay enough to sustain an ample lifestyle.  I have had more conversations about real estate, taxes, and Californians since I returned to Idaho than I have ever had.  The story I hear is the same–the influx of wealthy outsiders (mostly Californians) is making life difficult for the locals.  If you move to Idaho, it is better not to announce that you made a boatload of money in Southern California and are looking for a $2 million mansion to buy on the water.  You’re likely to get an earful.

Catching up with old friends

I came home and ran into some old friends I haven’t seen for awhile, friends we left behind when we moved overseas.  I spent some time with our old house plant named "Oscar."  "Oscar" is a spider plant and an old friend my parents gave to me when I was in college.  I almost killed him a couple of times by over-/under-nourishing him.  He survived and lived on for many years in our home in Seattle.  When we moved overseas, he couldn’t travel with us.  Rather than giving him up for adoption or sending him to the landfill, I gave him to my parents for safekeeping.  We’re back together for a couple weeks while I’m home.  "Oscar" missed us.  Last Christmas he sent us a photo of himself with the help of my mother.
 
Today I drove another old friend–our old white Chevy Corsica.  We bought her while we were in college and drove her for many years; that is, until she turned over 100,000 miles and we bought a new car.  We gave her to my parents.  I drove her today for the first time in ages.  In the past, whenever we visited my parents we drove our own car, but this time we flew in from Korea and need to use their vehicles.  That’s OK–we’re happy to tool around town in our old car.  She’s older and weather beaten, but she still drives just fine.  I noticed our old propane barbeque sitting in the backyard.  That went to mom and dad too.  When we moved overseas, we didn’t think we would need one because we thought we would live in an apartment.  It turns out that we could have used the barbeque while in Seoul, and we ended up buying a small charcoal grill.  I’m glad to see that we’ll use the barbeque once again on Sunday.  I loved that barbeque and remember fondly barbequing off the back deck of our home in Seattle.  We may also break out some alcohol we could not ship overseas.  We still have a couple bottles of sake to drink.
 
My parents volunteered to be the recipients of many of our personal belongings–wanted and unwanted–before we left for Korea.  We donated items we either could not or did not want to ship overseas, and we ended up storing valuables and momentos in boxes in their basement.  I also left behind a bunch of books I didn’t want to ship (books are heavy).  I’m glad my parents cleared some space in their basement to store our belongings.  I am happy to give them some of our belongings to use as a trade-off for all the junk they’re storing for us.  Thanks, mom and dad. 

Back from Montana – and a life lesson

Dear Reader, how have you been?  I see that you are still logging in to read World Adventurers, because this site is still getting hundreds of hits each day.  Thank you for your patronage.  I hope there is enough good material in the World Adventurers archives to keep you interested in visiting the site frequently–even when I’m away on vacation.  Perhaps I should recruit a guest contributor to fill in during my absence (Anyone want to contribute?).  I was planning to write last night using my aunt’s computer in Montana, but I was having too much fun to break away and blog.  Now that I’m back at my mom’s house and my family has crashed for the night, I can sneak now in some meandering musings.  Note to Tortmaster:  I took over 250 photos of scenes from Montana and will post a few soon.  Note to Wade3016:  I’ll give you a call about meeting up in Idaho later this week.
 
I saw many members of my extend family this weekend.  Interestingly, the most memorable moment came not from seeing my own family, whom I’ve wanted to see for about two years, but when I met a stranger.  Don’t get me wrong–we had a wonderful weekend, and I had a lot of fun.  But this encounter with a stranger and the life lesson it brought sticks in my mind.  It happened today while I visited my grandmother at a nursing home.  Just before I left, I met one of her neighbors, a lady who could not have been older than 50.  She was strapped into in a motorized wheelchair and physically battered, scarred and obese from years of living in a wheelchair.  She spoke slowly, but she was articulate.  She was a friendly sort, much more jovial than I expected.  She blithely encountered me just as I was saying goodbye to my grandmother.  Most residents in this nursing home are over 65 years of age and largely immobile.  This lady’s youth and enthusiasm were notable.  As we talked, she told me bits and pieces of her life–that she had been in this nursing home for almost 20 years after almost dying in a car accident, that she had three children who were now grown and living in other states, that she was divorced from a husband who had abused and threatened to kill her.  Her haste to flee from him ended in an accident that nearly cost her her life.  Instead, it left her physically maimed.  However, the accident did not destroy her spirit.  During our brief encounter she told me that she was happy because God loved her and that "Jesus is the best husband I’ve ever had."  While she meant that metaphorically, I was really touched by this woman who may have been my age when her life was changed forever by accident.  I thought about what the past 20 years must have been like for her–living in a nursing home, wheelchair-bound, watching other residents come and go as they passed on in death.  I was both greatly saddened and inspired by her story.  I am so touched that she has had a positive attitude through tragedy and found something that fills her life with joy.  I wondered whether I would do the same if I were in her situation.  Would I despair and give up hope?  Would I blame God?  Would I try to end my life?  I never want to know.
 
The lady said that her dream was to move closer to her grandchildren who live in another state.  I do not know whether she lives in this home voluntarily or because her children prefer not to move her closer to them.  I hope she will realize her dream.  She has been through so much already.  She should not be destined to live the rest of her life in a nursing home in Montana, far away from her family.  Then again, maybe those who live in the nursing home are the only family she has now.
 
I never thought the highlight of my time in Montana would could from a meeting with a stranger.
 
Note to Angeline:  Angeline, thank you as always for your comments and inspiration.  We really don’t know what will happen in the future.  If my wife receives a job offer, we’ll have to weigh our options.  Separating for a long period of time is not something we would like to do.  We have done it before–most recently for four months in 2004.  She remained in Seattle with her parents while I moved to Washington, D.C. for work.  She followed soon thereafter.  Still, as you know, separation would cause a tremendous strain on the family, and we hope to avoid that.  We have a few other options.  Separation is just one option AND the worst-case scenario.  Another option is to have a second child, in which case my wife would stay home.  We don’t really know what we will do until we cross the proverbial bridges of life and have to choose which paths to take.  We’ll do our utmost to make sure that we are together.  My employer has an excellent track record when it comes to assigning tandem couples.  Most couples who are separated do so voluntarily.
 
Note to Quemino:  I was sorry to find out that I can’t visit you online anymore!  We’ll only be in Seattle for about 24 hours during this trip, but we’ll be back in February when we move from Korea to Paraguay.