Day 5 (Tuesday, June 30). I was very impressed with Pennsylvania. It is so different than any of the other states. It honestly resembles a jungle :) It is greener than Missouri or Indiana put together. In a way, it feels like a different planet with charming German-influenced farming architecture nestled in the vast hills and green, almost tropical-like forests. I have learned quite a bit about it during my studies of early American architecture, but I was not expecting the style to still be so present. The barns are red, some with emblems (which were believed to bring luck and drive away bad spirits). The houses are plain, but intricately built with porches and exquisite woodwork--clearly the influence of the German settlers (the Pennsylvania Deutsch or Dutch, as the Americans mistakenly spelled it then, hence the erroneous belief that the area was settled by the Dutch from Holland :) I really don't have any good pictures from Pennsylvania, because ... quite honestly, I was holding on to my dear life the whole time driving on I 70 and parts of I 270. Many of my friends wondered why I had to have so much bad luck with the breaks in WY. There, in Pennsylvania, was the answer, staring me right in my terrified face. I needed new breaks in PA. I 70 going East is one eternal ride downhill, and not a nice hill, but a steep, dangerous hill with swirls, turns, insane drivers, and random stop lights mid hill (terribly annoying). I was seriously praying all the way down. My breaks were still (and continue to be) soft, so I had to rely on my lower gear and other methods of slowing down the car. The speed limit is a joke in Pennsylvania (and most of the East coast). Everyone (with rare exceptions, probably people like me) drives at least 15 miles above the speed limit. I was driving just a mile or two above the speed limit and I had to turn the flashers on, otherwise I would have gotten run over by crazy truckers. Imagine going 60 (which was 5 miles above the speed limit) and everyone is going 70-80 downhill. The trucks (and I am not talking about those puny trucks in Europe) going 75 which are stuck behind you, have no way of stopping or slowing down, because their speed and their heavy load will not allow it. So, you turn the flashers on and pray. A few times I nearly got run over and had to literally get off the road. I'm not sure how some of those trucks make those turns, but the signs of warning to "aggressive drivers" (first time I saw a sign like that) and car parts on the side of the road, painted a vivid picture. I redefined religion and prayer on that road. I seriously do not know how I survived with my breaks, but I did, and I named that freeway, the Road of Death... But, that was just the beginning of my interesting day. I visited a friend Jenn in Poolesville (2 hrs from DC) on the way South. She will be a senior at BYUI Interior Design this fall and I found out she lives in the area just before I left for the trip. Little did I know that I would be getting to know her and her family very well in the coming weeks... As I approached DC, I learned why people hate driving here. I've driven in LA and it does not compare to the craziness of DC freeways and highways... Granted, drivers are nicer here, but they know no reason when it comes to speed. The roads are cray as well, since there are hills everywhere and no freeway is straight AND AND the exits require you to reduce your speed to 25 mi/hr in most cases. Since most drive about 80, that means a 55mi/hr reduction in seconds... I second all Pennsylvania and Maryland drivers get their licences revoked immediately! After that horrible ride, I finally arrived to my (what I thought was going to be) my new home. I talked to the roommate earlier that day and she said to let myself in. So I did and soon discovered that BOTH rooms were taken. Then it started pouring... And I wanted to cry... To make a long story short... My roommate, who for a month faithfully claimed that she had a room available in her apartment, pulled a fast one on me and turned everything upside down. What followed was a whole lot of drama and what resulted was me on the street without a place to stay in... I made a lot of calls and finally ended up in the home of one of the former missionaries who served in Slovenia. The next day, I still had the same problem; no room, no job...
Friday, July 10, 2009
Life is a Pennsylvania freeway
Day 5 (Tuesday, June 30). I was very impressed with Pennsylvania. It is so different than any of the other states. It honestly resembles a jungle :) It is greener than Missouri or Indiana put together. In a way, it feels like a different planet with charming German-influenced farming architecture nestled in the vast hills and green, almost tropical-like forests. I have learned quite a bit about it during my studies of early American architecture, but I was not expecting the style to still be so present. The barns are red, some with emblems (which were believed to bring luck and drive away bad spirits). The houses are plain, but intricately built with porches and exquisite woodwork--clearly the influence of the German settlers (the Pennsylvania Deutsch or Dutch, as the Americans mistakenly spelled it then, hence the erroneous belief that the area was settled by the Dutch from Holland :) I really don't have any good pictures from Pennsylvania, because ... quite honestly, I was holding on to my dear life the whole time driving on I 70 and parts of I 270. Many of my friends wondered why I had to have so much bad luck with the breaks in WY. There, in Pennsylvania, was the answer, staring me right in my terrified face. I needed new breaks in PA. I 70 going East is one eternal ride downhill, and not a nice hill, but a steep, dangerous hill with swirls, turns, insane drivers, and random stop lights mid hill (terribly annoying). I was seriously praying all the way down. My breaks were still (and continue to be) soft, so I had to rely on my lower gear and other methods of slowing down the car. The speed limit is a joke in Pennsylvania (and most of the East coast). Everyone (with rare exceptions, probably people like me) drives at least 15 miles above the speed limit. I was driving just a mile or two above the speed limit and I had to turn the flashers on, otherwise I would have gotten run over by crazy truckers. Imagine going 60 (which was 5 miles above the speed limit) and everyone is going 70-80 downhill. The trucks (and I am not talking about those puny trucks in Europe) going 75 which are stuck behind you, have no way of stopping or slowing down, because their speed and their heavy load will not allow it. So, you turn the flashers on and pray. A few times I nearly got run over and had to literally get off the road. I'm not sure how some of those trucks make those turns, but the signs of warning to "aggressive drivers" (first time I saw a sign like that) and car parts on the side of the road, painted a vivid picture. I redefined religion and prayer on that road. I seriously do not know how I survived with my breaks, but I did, and I named that freeway, the Road of Death... But, that was just the beginning of my interesting day. I visited a friend Jenn in Poolesville (2 hrs from DC) on the way South. She will be a senior at BYUI Interior Design this fall and I found out she lives in the area just before I left for the trip. Little did I know that I would be getting to know her and her family very well in the coming weeks... As I approached DC, I learned why people hate driving here. I've driven in LA and it does not compare to the craziness of DC freeways and highways... Granted, drivers are nicer here, but they know no reason when it comes to speed. The roads are cray as well, since there are hills everywhere and no freeway is straight AND AND the exits require you to reduce your speed to 25 mi/hr in most cases. Since most drive about 80, that means a 55mi/hr reduction in seconds... I second all Pennsylvania and Maryland drivers get their licences revoked immediately! After that horrible ride, I finally arrived to my (what I thought was going to be) my new home. I talked to the roommate earlier that day and she said to let myself in. So I did and soon discovered that BOTH rooms were taken. Then it started pouring... And I wanted to cry... To make a long story short... My roommate, who for a month faithfully claimed that she had a room available in her apartment, pulled a fast one on me and turned everything upside down. What followed was a whole lot of drama and what resulted was me on the street without a place to stay in... I made a lot of calls and finally ended up in the home of one of the former missionaries who served in Slovenia. The next day, I still had the same problem; no room, no job...
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