Speak softly and wear a loud shirt
This is one of the best stories I've read in our local "ad rag" The San Diego Reader free weekly. Butt-full of advertisments, (can you say breast enhancement?) but the occasional good story too.
This one is about a local surf school for women called Surf Divas. But the main interest for me is how it describes San Diego from the perspective of an outsider to the SOCAL lifestyle. I think you will find it most interesting too…
Elemental, Little Fish
By Rosa Jurjevics
Page 1 of 5
San Diego Reader
November 16, 2006
"You girls ready?"I raise my head from my pillow. I am shoulder deep in industrial-grade bedding, trying to pull the last dregs from an uneasy, however jet-lagged, sleep. Light pours through my window, slicing through the white strips of the blinds. Estela, in the opposite bed, is a moderate-sized lump under her covers, tufts of her black hair peeking out. As a fellow East Coaster, she must be feeling jet-lagged too. She mumbles something, sits up, blinks.
KT stands in our doorway, arms akimbo, grinning at our groggy faces. She's already dressed and exhibits no signs of fatigue; she is tying her long blond hair into a no-nonsense knot, watching us in good-natured amusement. Her sunglasses sit perched and at the ready atop her head.
It is 8:00 a.m. The first day of surf camp. At 22, I'm the baby of the group — a surprise, but not unusual — the only recent postgrad among vacationing professionals. Adrenaline hums through my morning grog. I'm excited but dodgy, unsure if my Queens sea legs will carry me. The waves are different beasts here, I am certain, not the occasional, clumsy rollers of Far Rockaway. My on-again-off-again year of lugging my nine-foot monster onto the A train for an afternoon of paddling around may not suffice in a place where some kids can surf before they learn to read. But as the old adage goes, ready or not… Here I come.
I stretch night-stiff shoulders, reorienting. Less than 12 hours ago, I arrived at the San Diego airport, a thick coat of East Coast pale on my skin. Now I am in California, tucked up in an empty dorm at UCSD, easily the most well-maintained college campus I have ever seen, and am about to go headlong into the Pacific waters.
Currently reading: The Reader