Benson is only half an hour away from Raleigh, but to Amir it must seem like a time travel. Until a few months ago, he lived and went to college in Raleigh, most of his friends live there. His parents live in Benson, where he has left them after high school in their country house, between tobacco fields, goats and grandmother. Now he is back for a visit, more out of obligation than own motivation. An old friend, your roommates and you accompany him. Maybe to reduce the risk of boredom. Maybe because you are some kind of community, after a long drive, a dramatic football game and uncountable beers. A community, that has to stick together now.
The five of you leave the monotonous new neighborhood behind where Amir’s old roommates and your hosts for the weekend live. The sky cloudless, the roads empty. Everyone who was able to left for North Carolina’s fine and now crowded beaches already on Friday. Your stay is too short for going to the beach, maybe that’s what makes visiting his parents so unattractive for your fellow student. But for you it is the opportunity to gain another insight into this country.
His parents have teamed up to prepare an overflowing lunch table for us. The father prepared a roast beef that would make some Ikea-tables collapse. The mother has covered the table with a legion of plates and bowls. Most notably are the freshly baked biscuits, a specialty of the Southern cuisine. The soft, small bread is eaten together with gravy or butter as a side dish. You cannot get those in Pittsburgh, only ludicrous versions in the frozen food section and at fast food places. The biscuits, together with the freshly brewed sweet tea puts a smile on Amir’s face. At least his culinary taste is still anchored here, despite the fact that he considers Raleigh to be his home due to his friends and college time there.
His mother comes from the Raleigh area, giving us a great example of the famous Southern Hospitality. Warm hearted, she is very fond of Amir’s new friends, especially Kati. The same is valid for Amir’s uncle, who is also present. As a genuine southerner, he gives your ears and listening abilities a hard time with his accent. Tobacco, for example, is slurred to ‘bacco’. The father complements the cultural diversity. Born and grown up in Tehran, he came to the States age nineteen. As a Shiite he went to Methodist and Presbyterian colleges before working for the State of North Carolina. He has not been to his home country for over thirty years, he has not seen the Iran of the mullahs. As silent reminders, a Farsi calligraphy and a samovar can be found in the house.
Back in Raleigh, you get to hear another story from the orient. A different one. Chase, on old friend of Amir, has been to Iraq as a medic. The reserved young guy knew that he would be sent to Iraq when he enlisted. He knew that this war was a political mistake. But he wanted to help. And studying medicine, becoming an assistant doctor, serving as a medic was a good preparation. And the Army pays for college. Financial independence from his parents was more important to Chase than the risk that he took. He was stationed in Bakuba, a small town not far from Baghdad. He has seen it all: The attacks, the corruption, the standstill of the reconstruction, friendship and despise of the Iraqis towards the Americans. Safely back, he is with his old friends again in Raleigh, being awkwardly silent.
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