(Host) As unlikely as it may sound, commentator Martha Molnar has
discovered that in some parts of the world Vermonters are seen as
downright exotic.
(Molnar) On a recent trip to Ecuador, we found
that we were very interesting to the other tourists and to the locals.
Actually, we were more than merely interesting. We were positively
exotic. Although our color was common enough – pasty white arriving from
Vermont in December – we were as amazing as the shimmering blue morpho
butterflies or the blue fig leaves that shocked us in the rainforest. We
fit the look, the language and probably whatever behavior was expected
of North Americans, but we came from a virtually unknown place.
Vermont?
The other American tourists we met had never been here, nor had any of
them ever met a Vermonter. Vermont? The Europeans had heard of it,
vaguely, but had likewise never met anyone from this remote state. Near
Canada, isn’t it, they asked. And cold, they guessed, following that
with a vague recollection of our famous foliage. Vermont? Was it near
California or New York, the Ecuadorians asked. They’d met plenty of
people from those states.
It
was strange to be cast in the role of representing a state, especially
one to which my husband and I are relative newcomers. Not to indulge in
stereotypes, but everyone knows that Californians are flaky and obsessed
with body image, while New Yorkers are abrupt and driven. At least that
was the general perception among the people we met. But I had no idea
what the expected behavior for Vermonters might be. Perhaps it would be
cold and aloof, matching the climate they imagined; or courteous,
private, non-judgmental, and fair minded, but also singularly
individual, to match my own perceptions. I knew there is no way to paint
600,000 people with one brush or even with several, and having spent
many years in New York City, I knew just how wrong the perception of my
former neighbors, colleagues and still dear friends could be.
So,
instead of trying to fit the entire population of our small but diverse
state into a couple of narrow adjectives, we told them about Tropical
Storm Irene because we knew everyone would understand, maybe even have
first-hand experience with the destruction nature can wreak. We
described the devastating power of the rivers and of the inches of rain
pouring down the mountains and how they swept away bridges and roads and
houses, leaving people homeless and communities isolated. Mostly,
though, we talked about how people throughout the state did not sit idly
by, how they pulled together and manning shovels, tractors and trucks
pitched in to rescue the stranded, salvage what they could, and begin
rebuilding.
We thought
that might be the best way to convey the Vermont character and identity
to the people we met – so they would come to understand something
fundamental about who we are. And I think it worked. In fact, I know it
did.