Haunting the Old Haunts

I just took two amazing trips in the past month to revisit my junior year hiatus from RPI during which I had spent the summer and fall in Austin and the winter and spring in Edinburgh. In Edinburgh, I walked by the John MacIntyre center where we used to ration our "points" so as to get the most food from the cafeteria women who would have been more at home in a Dickens novel. A brief look at Fraser Court, the dorm whose entire population Steve, our nerdy Australian roommate, once stirred awake early in the morning by playing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" on his tuba. A jaunt up Arthur's Seat which overlooks the dark, cobbled streets that curve over the hills of Edinburgh. And of course we managed a walk through campus and past the Castle. We stopped at the Tron which served one-pound pints on college nights, and still continues to, five years later. At night, we strolled through Grassmarket stopping at a few pubs. I introduced T to lager shandy -- lager mixed with a bit of lemonade. A typical night out. And as many a night had ended, we made the long walk up South Bridge Street to Minto Street where our B&B was.

It was a bit like flipping through a photo album. Or like haunting a house. You can almost empathize with a ghost. You nostalge over the old memories. You feel outrage at the new inhabitants who are corrupting that image of the place that you cherish, unchanging in your mind. (Despite the fact that the place had many flaws -- funny how the mind distills only the good memories). And you wish you could stay forever.

This past weekend I visited Jane in Austin. This revisit took me through West Campus, where my little ghetto housing complex still stood a bit sadly next to sprouting new buildings; through 6th Street which was as always a big block party on Friday and Saturday nights; up and down the Drag; and past the UT gym where I snuck in and played ball with the locals. But while the places held many memories, I was most reminded of the friendships that I had made while I was in Austin. Jane and her boyfriend (two peas in a pod, or beans in an edamame, or mp3's in an iPod) were awesome hosts. What was awesome was that you didn't get the feeling that they thought they were "hosting you" as much as just hanging out. I was reminded of the carefree, wandering conversations I'd had back when I interned at National Instruments. I think Austin was when I started crawling out of my shell.

It feels good to see the old places. To see if they've changed. To see if you've changed. To see how the people have changed with the city, or without. And to eat lots and lots of BBQ brisket.