Mom: "Kids, we are going to Russleville for our family reunion!"
Though I have been anxiously anticipating a trip to meet the elusive 'Shoptaw clan', I couldn't help but be a little nervous about a family reunion...on our family farm.
Let's begin with the fact that the Kussin-Shoptaw's, when traveling together, have the world's worst travel karma. Mom, Dad, Ben (brother) and I left our cozy beds at 3:30AM for LAX only to find our flight delayed resulting in an impossible connection to make. The four of us stood at the counter: Mom looking royally peeved, Dad looking sick, Ben looking asleep, and myself just staring at the plant sitting on the desk. The LAX lady figured out we could make our flight to Fayetteville, Arkansas if we just flew into Chicago.
We landed in Chicago fine and dandy in desperate search of food. Dad, Ben and I each had gyros near what we thought was our gate. Just about the same time we all got settled in at gate F9, Ben decided to go explore the airport. By the point he was out of eye shot, Mom realized that we were at the wrong gate. Well, Mom went to the correct gate, leaving Dad and I waiting for Ben. Our departing time kept getting closer and still no Benj. But dont worry, Dad and I bumped into Ben on the way to our correct gate just to discover that our flight to Arkansas had been delayed an hour. Oy.
By the time we made it on the plane, the K-S reunion crew had been traveling for a little more than 12 hours. But it was all worth it because let me tell you: there is nothing like Arkansas in August.
Mm, Mm, delicious. The automatic doors of the airport slid open exposing my body to a heat wave equivalent of opening a 10ft oven. My family and I climbed into our rental car and drove 3 more hours to Russleville, in Pope County. Fun fact: Pope County has been a "Dry County" since the prohibition. Seriously. What kind of family reunion functions without alcohol??
Despite the humid heat, Arkansas was beautiful. There are so few people and so many trees. The sunset reminded me those I had witnessed in Walla. I began asking Dad more about the state. Learning my lesson from living in Australia, I thought that it would be smart to ask about the local fauna and flora before trekking through anything potentially life threatening.
Me: "So, what kind of animals are around? Can I walk around the farm?"
Dad: "Well, for starters, there are lots of ticks and chiggers. Chiggers, Alie, you'll know them when they bite. They feel like shingles. Then we have cottonmouths, Eastern rattlers, bob cats, coyotes, brown recluses and I think thats about it"
Thats about it? I dont want to hike around those mountains without a plastic bubble. Chiggers sound terrible!
We finally made the trip to the Hampton Inn. It kind of smelled like mold and stale cigarettes, but it was air conditioned so I was not about to complain. The parking lot was a mini 10 plagues scene--straight from the Prince of Egypt. Locusts. Everywhere. Inside we asked the lady where we could go for some grub. She suggested anywhere but the Chinese place. We chose Ruby Tuesday's as it was the only place in town that had some sort of private liquor license.
Ruby Tuesdays food was very similar to the quality served at the 'bad' Denny's. Ben's ribs came cold, Dad's chicken tasted funky, my salad definitely had grody cucumbers. The one redeemable quality was their biscuits. Unbelievable. I could live off of them. I might be 1000 pounds, but I would still fit in around the town and get to eat as many garlic cheese basil biscuits as I pleased. Mmm.
After dinner, Dad took Ben and I on a fantastic drive. There was no light pollution so the stars were completely visible. Dad drove us to our property; his 17 acres of farm land and the cemetery. Though totally creepy, the cemetery was probably my favorite part of the drive. I have always been so secure with who I am identity wise. I know everything about my mother's side of the family. Though, as any KS sibling can tell you, Dad has been very good at making sure details about Bill Shoptaw's side of the family remain ambiguous. This cemetery shattered all that. It was pitch black. It had a giant sign that said: _insert old family last name_ since 1852. I had no idea that my family could date back that long ago!
Dad continued our drive/tour around the farm property. He told us stories about our family and his life as a kid. If any of you know my Dad, you would understand how rare of an opportunity this was. Steve was opening up. I know Arkansas is smelly, famous for its' lack of toxin regulations, amount of churches per mile, obesity, and racism, I am actually very happy that I finally had an opportunity to meet my other half. I am a little apprehensive for meeting the actual living relatives. I am not sure how they will receive the LA relatives who are hippy liberals. But hey, well see how it goes tomorrow :)
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