Reflection on the upcoming Thanksgiving break

As I finish up my homework for this week and read up on my assignments, I think of the coming week of rest and relaxation. And food. Lots and lots of food. Though I would much rather stay at home and meet up with friends I haven't seen in three months, I recently learned that I would be going on a little journey to the middle of nowhere for most of my vacation.
As soon as I get home, my family is heading up to my grandparents, who live in an economically-depressed former immigrant mining town in the Appalachian Mountains in Pennsylvania called Summit Hill. Almost every one in ten residents lives below the poverty line. Unlike my hometown of Bowie, where half of the population are minorities, Summit Hill is almost 100% white. While Bowie is largely culturally integrated, Summit Hill is still divided by ethnicity. The Irish, the Polish, the Welsh, the Italians, the Hungarians, and the Czechs still worship in their own churches, hang out in their own bars, and are buried in their own cemeteries.
In places like Summit Hill, the culture has not changed much since the 19th century. Although the ethnic groups do not fight as they did back then (my grandfather held a dislike for the Irish after an Irishman stole his wages in the 40s), one stills views the others are foreigners, even if they have been living in the country for over a century. If you are not even from Summit Hill, you are easily spotted from your lack of an accent, and viewed in much the same way as a Southerner would view a Yankee. They are highly traditional and highly religious people- Summit Hill, according to Ripley's Believe It or Not, is the only town with a block that has a church on each corner.
Somethings, however, did change with time. With the closing of the mines around the end of the century, job opportunities in the area are becoming increasingly scarce. There is a palpable dissatisfaction that one can feel in the air while walking or driving though the town. Visiting the town this summer, one could especially sense a feeling of bitterness after Obama's election in this extremely conservative town. For the first time in my life, I saw a Neo-Nazi flag displayed publicly on a resident's front porch. It was an extremely frightening experience for a Jewish girl who associates the town with the warmth and love of her grandparents.
Ultimately, I love going up to Summit Hill. I love seeing my grandparents, who I only get to see two or three times each year. I love to sit on their front porch and read as the townspeople walk slowly by. I love to walk through the surrounding forests and mountains. Every time I visit, I learn something new: about my father, about my family, and about the town that made them. When I return to Bowie (or in this case, AU) I always end up learning about myself in the contrasts.