This is what I learned about Portland,
Oregon over these last couple days.
First? Portland is obsessed
with being Portland. No kidding, it's like the only thing
Portland talks about. No matter what subject you bring up, Portland
will trump your story with how Portland does it better.
“What's that? You saw a documentary
about free-range chickens? That's neat. My friend from Portland
runs a free-range chicken
farm on top of a 13 story building, in Portland.”
“Awww,
you made a home brew? That's adorable. My cousin in
Portland brews a rosie amber
pilsner using home-grown yeast scraped from the feet of Portlanders.
You should totally try it.”
“Oh,
you bought a book somewhere? That's awful. Portland has the best
bookstore in the Universe.
It's so big it has a functional wishing well... and a unicorn...and a
secret vortex to another dimension... and socialized medicine. It's
amaaaazing. I pretty much only
buy books in Portland.”
This
odd Portland-centeredness should be annoying, but it's really not.
The truth is, in a matter of hours you'll be doing the same thing as
you rave about how the soft-shell crab you plucked off a food truck was
“the BEST on the PLANET” or the tabouli salad you had
for lunch was “like, O.M.G. Fresh”. You will start to believe, as
the Portlanders do, that everything is better in Stumptown.
But
just as you're on the verge of calling a realtor and a moving
company, you'll notice that people
in Portland only wear black and dark black.
And sometimes grey. If you wear anything other than black or
black or maybe gray, everyone will
know you're not from these parts. And let me warn you; If you
wear red jeans in Portland, waiters in trendy restaurants will ignore
you for an extra 10 minutes and then they will speak to you as if you
don't know how to read. People will point and stare. A guy will
shout “WELCOME TO PORTLAND!” from his car window as he drives
past. But you have to remember, these people have never seen the sun.
Treat them with Grace. They exist in the gloomy cloud cover of a
colorless world. It's not their fault.
Despite
their lack of appreciation for the full spectrum of the rainbow, I
feel like Portland is the
friendliest city I have ever stepped foot in.
I don't know what you've heard, but they really won't damn you to
hell for eating bologna on non-sprouted white bread. Portlanders
struck up conversations with us on the street. They helped us
navigate the MAX (light-rail) system. They encouraged us to fit in by
gently reminding us that “Um. People don't use umbrellas around
here.” And they freely opened doors to welcome us out of the rain.
Oh, yeah. Portland
just loves to talk about rain. And when
they did, we were like, “Rain? Oh,
Portland. You're silly.
In Costa Rica, the
rain is like the sky opening up and trying to drown you in a vertical
river.” And then we'd chuckle a little, like condescending
douchebags, “You call this rain? That is so
cute.”
… ….. ….
It's quirky and clean and easy to navigate, and whether you like a little bit of pretentious hipster with your food-truck burrito, or not, Portland is a charming big, little city. I
think it just became one of my top 3 favorite cities.
What's
your favorite city and why?
