Tupelo: Not Spanish for "Your Hair"

Real American. Real English.

As we travel weekly to a new city with Hens on Ice, I try to assimilate into the local culture. Last year's tour through Europe was a challenge in some ways, but easy in others. I avoided flashy clothes or anything with an American flag to blend in on the streets, and with my WASPy complexion, some locals even thought I was from there...until I opened my mouth. When I opened my mouth, no matter what country and what language they spoke, I was done assimilating. My accent was like an American flag sweater I couldn't take off.

I first thought this year's tour through much of the U.S. would be far easier to blend. I live in this country - consider me assimilated! I've had twenty...something years to learn and live. No menus in foreign languages or women asking me for directions in French this time. While Florida was easy since I live there, many of these southern cities have been worlds of their own. My parents never took me to the south to assimilate.

Warning: Not Funny, But There Are Pictures

Even The Cackling Hen takes cackle breaks. Usually, this silent hiatus is seen by me just not writing anything for three months (there's nothing funny about a cold, grey winter). Although I try to slip in the occasional pearl of wisdom between clucks, this Hen post aims to keep the cackles sparse because I have something more to say (and I'm just not feeling that funny!)

If you're still reading, this post contains 9,000 words in picture form (again, they won't make you cackle). We are in Biloxi, Mississippi this week, a town battered by Hurricane Katrina. When I first thought of Biloxi, I just pictured its waterfront casinos, but after doing a little research, I learned that Biloxi, much like New Orleans, was devastated by Katrina.