Anyway, today I'm going to The Alamo. I didn't know a whole lot about it before arriving, but was pretty sure it's got something to do with America, freedom, and Mexico. Interesting side note: anybody else ever thought of Mexico's flag as a symbol of their three major dipping sauces? It's red, white, and green, like salsa, sour cream, and guacamole. I always wanted to see a dip tray designed like the Mexican flag for that purpose. I figure you could put chips where the eagle is at. I know that's quite a non-sequitur, but the Alamo wasn't that exciting to me, and how many places will I ever be able to publicly declare that idea in my lifetime? This one: this is the only place.
Being a monument of sorts, I expected it to be easy to find, but when my GPS tells me I'm there, I'm surrounded by a bunch of paid parking areas and a wall. I figure I've gotta be close though, so I go into what I think is Alamo parking where ask the attendant...
"Is this parking for the Alamo?"
"You can park here for the Alamo: 10$."
"Stupid question," I think to myself.
"Where's it at?"
"Right over there."
The attendant points behind my car somewhere. I can't tell exactly where, but at least I have a general direction now, so I pay to park and start walking. Unfortunately, it's still somewhat difficult to find if you don't know what you're looking for because, like other major landmarks, every business around it has the landmark name within their own business name in big letters, with the rest of their name in smaller letters surrounding it. Of particular interest is "Alamo Parking", which is right across from where I parked and only cost 5$...
Walking along the wall I saw, which stretches down the entire block, I see a bus near the end and people coming out of a gate. I go through the gate, leading me behind the wall, and realize, oh, this is it: I'm in the Alamo. Okay, uuuh, I didn't pay. Did I just sneak in or what?
I look at a nearby map and see I'm actually at the exit, but at least I know the wall should lead to the entrance, so I exit via the gate and continue down until I find the entrance and what amounts to a small park with a stone roadway in front of it where 100-200 people are hanging out and taking pictures. In the middle of the park is a statue that looks like a giant leg called Alamo Cenotaph, dedicated to those that fought for Texas at the Battle of the Alamo.
This is part of the wall which is surrounding the entire block the Alamo is on...
...and the Alamo itself.
While there's a 7$ audio tour you can take, getting into the Alamo is absolutely free otherwise, though donations are acceptable. This building, which I think most people visualize when they think of the Alamo, is called The Shrine. Inside, I expected to learn about the history of the battle, but the items in the Shrine are actually more personal, tending to relate instead to the men that actually fought there. There are letters written by them, spurs off their shoes, and various other items. The place is packed with people, most of whom are moving at a slower pace than I prefer. There are no pictures allowed inside the Shrine, so I make it through fairly quickly by going around the slower tourists. Once outside, there are several other buildings you can go to, many of which were built after the battle. In fact, the Shrine itself isn't 100% original: inside was a display remarking on how if you looked at the edges near the ceiling, you could see where the roof had to be rebuilt.
So I continue my tour by going into the Long Barracks Museum. There's a video room at the head of the museum where you can watch a 15-20 minute video the History Channel made about the battle and what happened to the building afterward and then the actual museum with items from the era and more facts. And this is where things start to get a little flaky in my mind. I could never fully understand all the factions that lead up to the battle of the Alamo. I couldn't help but feel like it was made intentionally confusing so people would focus mainly on the heroism of men giving their lives for something rather than the politics of what was going on, but it could just be the fact that I suck at history. But this is how I'm pretty sure the history of the Alamo goes...
The Alamo started out as a Spanish mission for converting Native Americans to Christianity. It was abandoned after the secularization of the area, and due to the Mexican Revolution, would become home to several different military groups, including Spanish, rebel, and Mexican. After Mexico won its independence, it invited colonists from America to try out Texas, which it currently owned, with the promise of door prizes, like land and stuff, if they chose to live there. And then Texans, which at the time were called Texians, were like, "We want our independence, too, even though we just joined a country that just got its independence." And the Mexican government said no, so President/General Santa Anna went to the Alamo to fight Jim Bowie and David Crockett and a bunch of other Texians. While the Texians requested backup from surrounding forces, pretty much nobody came, so they all ended up dying. Every-single-one. Even the ones who surrendered were executed. Deciding this was a good time to finish off the Texian rebels, Santa Anna continued forward. The rebels, however, were pissed about having their comrades they didn't help murdered, so after splitting his forces up into thirds, Santa Anna and his third were taken by surprise, as Wikipedia puts it, "during their afternoon 'siesta'". Yes, Santa Anna quite literally was caught sleeping on the job by General Sam Houston, whom Houston, Texas is named after, at the Battle of San Jacito, which is where the battle cry, "Remember the Alamo," became famous. The battle lasted only 18 minutes and ended with Santa Anna telling his troops to leave Texas forever. His execution, unfortunately, did not follow, as he continued to be a dick for the rest of his life until dying of natural causes at the ripe old age of 82: life isn't fair.
Santa Anna defeated, Texas soon after became its own republic, which soon after decided to join the United States, where it soon after decided to leave, then soon after rejoined, where it continues to want to leave to this day, probably just so it can rejoin Mexico later. Texas is your friend that gets angry and leaves every time you see each other but calls you up next weekend to go drinking again.
Surprisingly, after the war, nobody particularly cared about the Alamo for its historical purposes. At one point, it was used as a grocery store. Finally, it was sold to The Daughters of the Republic of Texas, a society formed to preserve the memory of Texas as a Republic. It's from their ownership it became what it is today.
And while my version of the story may have been compelling to some of you, history isn't my primo subject, and I was very confused about how exactly the whole thing went down still (I've done some research since then), so I didn't see anything in the museum I felt the need to photograph, so here's a shot of the whole thing:
And here's a rock that was outside:
Again, not a huge history buff, but it is what it is. It's hard to complain about free anything, and I'd definitely suggest the Alamo to anyone with interests in history or Texas.
I've gotten very lucky for tonight: my friend Kim has a friend in San Antonio who says I can stay with her for the night. I've already been told explicitly she's an introvert though, so it may be a little awkward at first, not only due to her introversion, but mine as well. Her name is Xinnan, pronounced She-nin if I recall correctly, and she tells me that tonight she's going to church and invites me along. I'm not personally much of a church-goer, but I figure if Xinnan is nice enough to invite me and it might be awkward already, I should probably be nice enough to accept. So after grabbing some dinner, I head to church and enter the sanctuary where Xinnan said she'd meet me. At the entrance are 5 or 6 people whom I don't know, don't live near, and will probably never see again, but being church tradition, they all want to talk to me simply to be welcoming and friendly. While this may sound pleasant to some people, my aforementioned introversion oftentimes dissuades me from wanting to participate in such things as "pleasantries". But I put on my game face and socialize while avoiding all the words and phrases a sailor might be tempted to use.
"Hi."
"Hi, and you are?"
As if it's any of your business, I'm, "Kobie. I'm a friend of Xinnan's."
"Oh, is she in one of the classes?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Okay, they're upstairs right now, but they'll be down any second."
Even though Xinnan and I really don't know each other, I figured it's easier to call her a friend than explain the friend of a friend scenario. The topic quickly rolls into my being a traveler and me answering some questions for them, as well as asking them what the best place for BBQ might be in Texas, specifying that I'll be in Austin tomorrow. I leave out stories about going to a brothel and being bathed by a man. They really do seem like a group of friendly people rather than fake friendly as sometimes is displayed during such formalities. All except one. There's one girl who keeps giving me the stink eye. As I've just entered San Antonio for the first time in my life today, I find it nearly impossible that I've done something to her in the past, and I haven't said anything rude thus far in the conversation. My only logical explanations are that she's a prude who doesn't think a guy should stay over at a girls place or she's currently suffering from a severe case of constipation.
The classes finally come down and I meet Xinnan for the first time. We give brief introductions before going into the sanctuary where she says,
"Sooo, I'm gonna go sit with my friends. Were you wanting to sit back here or come up there with me? I don't want it to be awkward."
"Do you think it would be awkward?"
"Yeah, it probably would be."
"Okay, I'll sit back here."
So, for the next 45 minutes, there's a fair amount of standing up and sitting down, as per the requirements of Jesus I assume, as I've yet to go to a church that didn't demand you get your cardio in for the day. I suppose it's fitting I went to church during this week: the lesson is about Easter, which is coming up this Sunday. If I hadn't gone to church, I probably wouldn't have known. Afterwards, Xinnan tells me, "There's another part to the service where they re-meet, but I figure you're tired, so we'll go now."
She gives me her address and we meet at her place. There's still a stale awkwardness in the air that always occurs between two people who don't quite know what to say each other, which I'm particularly used to getting from the female of our species but not when I'll be staying at their place for the night. So when Xinnan is nice enough to offer me the shower first, I go in with a mission:
"Okay, you look like a hobo," I think to myself. "That's clearly not going to make her feel safer about having you sleeping on her couch." So I shave, clip my nails, apply deodorant generously, and come back out not looking like a serial killer. I don't know if that's what did it, it just took her getting home and relaxing, or it was something else all together, but we finally start making easy conversation. We learn a little more about each other, and she even mentions wanting to visit some of the places I've been to, so I show her some pictures and make some suggestions. By the end of the night, I think we were both pretty sure the other wasn't going to kill us, though I think I heard her lock the door anyway, but who can blame a girl for that?
In the morning, Xinnan offers me an orange: I don't remember the last time I've had fresh fruit, so I gladly accept. Even though she clearly didn't trust me, Xinnan was still kind enough to host me, so I'm very thankful to her for that. As she goes to work though, it's time for me to head to Austin, the capitol of Texas.
It is really is true what they say: they do things bigger in Texas. While it's still a U.S. Capitol ripoff, it's definitely a larger U.S. Capitol ripoff. Of even more impressive stature is the police officers' memorial which has a wall the size of a 10+ story building erected behind it.
This memorial, which looks more like a scene out of a play than a dedication (see: Texas does stuff big), has 5 boards of information explaining the development of Texas, much of which was stuff I learned from the Alamo.
The Texas capitol has a memorial for volunteer firemen, the Terry Rangers (a group of volunteers who fought for the Confederacy during the Civil War), a piece of art representing the cowboy spirit of Texas, Spanish war veterans,...
...as well as the 36th infantry division, World War II, Pearl Harbor (unique, and unexpected in Texas), a Statue of Liberty the Boy Scouts donated I believe, World War I veterans, and disabled veterans.
My guess is that this memorial is for the Vietnam War, but it could've been the Korean as well: I don't remember. Which is unfortunate since it's the most badass memorial Texas has.
There are also several monuments which I can't take pictures of from the front, so here are some monuments of butts dedicated to I have no idea what:
Surprisingly, I know someone in Austin, so after seeing all the memorials I contact my friend Mat whom I went to Neumont with. He's been working here, so we meet at a barbecue joint for lunch. We catch up, discuss jobs and technologies, and swap some business ideas, including a fairly uncouth one of my own. And for anybody keeping up with my food review of Texas, the barbecue was charred, so I submit my final claim that is the official cooking style of the state.
Heading to our cars, Mat offers me a spare bedroom for the night, but it's still early, so I thank him and decide to keep moving. After he leaves, I start GPSing my next location, Houston. I start my car, pull up to a red light, and see something unexpected drive across the road: it's the Google Street View car. For those unaware, for Google to give you the "Street View" of a location, they have to actually send a car to that location with a pole on the roof of it which holds cameras facing in every direction. It's also a goal of every nerd in the world to be on Street View. So the first thought that goes through my mind is, "GOOGLE, I HATE YOU SO MUCH FOR NOT HAVING A VISITORS CENTER BUT PLEASE SHOW ME ON STREET VIEW, I LOVE YOUUUU!!" And just like that, I sold my soul to be on Street View. While anxiously waiting for the light to change, I consider texting Mat to ask if he saw it, but I realize he went in a different direction. He was also going back to work and left too long ago to come back for it, so it's just me and you Street View. The light turns green, and I catch up to them on the next street. There's another car between me and them, but I follow them onto the interstate where there's heavy traffic and fight my way until I catch up. I stay at the rear left corner of the car, not wanting to look too anxious to the driver: I already know how judgmental some of the Google employees can be. But now that I've caught up to it, I'm not sure what to do. I have to do SOMETHING. I'm really gonna look like an idiot if I don't commit a foolish act to get attention now. I'd really like to write, "Google, you need a Visitors Center" on a sign and put it against the window: that'd teach em. But I quickly realize I lack the sign, marker, and skills to put such a thing together while driving. So having no idea what to do and my moonroof being open, I go with gut instinct and throw my hand out the roof to display what is most formally known as the sign of the horns, also known as Hook 'em Horns to the University of Texas located in Austin, Texas. I was unknowingly showing celebration to the local university in an attempt to get attention on Google Street View: you're welcome Longhorn fans.
Though I've yet to see the image on Street View (I'll be sure to let you all know if/when that happens), I did start my GoPro to corroborate my story:
Having experienced my fill of entertainment from the scenario, I turn around, as I'm driving on the wrong interstate, and head for Houston, Texas. I arrive at the heart of the city before pulling over to find a Starbucks. Houston's a little bit scary. There's definitely some sketchy characters around, and that's coming from a guy living in his car. But nothing goes wrong, and I get to write a little as well as planning the next couple days. I'm not sure if I want to stay in or out of Louisiana. I've got the time to drive into the state, but all the I-10 Rest Areas in Louisiana are labeled as, "Welcome Centers", and the last time I went to a Welcome Center was in California where the bathrooms were closed after hours and it was just an excuse for you to drive through a shopping outlet, so I'm a little worried. But I try it none-the-less, figuring I can head westward to Texas again if the Welcome Center isn't welcoming, but to my pleasant surprise it is! So I choose instead to keep going to the next one. I listened to some country music while in Texas because I felt it fitting even if I don't care for the genre, so I listened to some Cajun/Creole (terms I'll be using interchangeably since I'm ignorant of the difference) music during my drive through Louisiana. And now for a note on Cajun music: it's horrible. I thought it would be sort've trendy, or at the very least jazz like. Instead, it seemed like the Louisiana version of beach music: something for old people to listen to so they feel young again.
I travel until I get to Breaux Bridge, at which point it's time for dinner. I've always wanted to eat Creole in New Orleans, but I realize, why wait until then? I'm still in Louisiana. So I stop at a place called The Boudin Shop & Country Store. It's a little shack of a place built right beside a gas station where the first thing to welcome me is cats: lots and lots of cats. At least 6 of them, very possibly 12 if my memory isn't exaggerating, waiting outside the front doors, hoping someone will throw them some seafood I guess? While the overall image is disturbing, I go inside, knowing this is exactly the type of place I'll either get glorious food or die of dysentery.
For some reason I felt like Louisiana was going to be a somewhat intimidating state. I think it's because of how the news reports the crime that's committed after hurricane season in New Orleans. So when the first thing I see inside the restaurant is a 6'6", 225+ pound man in raggedy clothes, bouncing side to side on his feet to the Creole music that's playing like some sort of Cajun Saint Nick, I'm a bit astounded. I ask another couple if they've ordered and they nicely tell me they have. Approaching the cashier, he ask what I'd like in a thick Louisiana accent that takes me off guard and I tell him a gator po-boy.
"You wonna drink wi dat?"
"Uh, just a water."
"You won dat in teh boddle, ri?"
"Uuuh..." I really don't want it in the bottle so I want to ask him, "Do you have it in the fountain?" but I forget the word "fountain" and know "tap" isn't the one I'm looking for. Without this knowledge, I have no choice but to assume the water only comes in a bottle, in which case it cost money, in which case I might as well get soda. As I over-complicate the choice of what beverage to consume, I also feel pressure from the cashier who seems to very much be a business man who likes to keep things moving, and here I am delaying his business, so I finally say,
"Nah, I'll just get a soda."
"It's yo choice," he says in a way as to let me know, I'm definitely over-thinking this procedure.
"No, I'll just get a soda."
I sit down and wait, watching the large man bounce and have small talk with the couple. The large man has a thick accent as well. This is the first time I've ever thought to myself, "We're not in Kansas anymore." I got in my car, everybody was speaking English, I get out of my car, everybody is speaking Louisiana: it's kind've otherworldly.
I worry they might've given my order away for a while, but a man finally comes with my po-boy. For those who have never had gator, my previous experiences would describe it as a cross of chicken and fish, which sounds horrific, but it's pretty good. This po-boy is different though. This po-boy isn't good at all: it's amazing. It completely skips "good" on its way to getting there. My closest memory to such a food experience would be the french fry burrito in Arkansas, but I've been eating fairly well lately since I know my trip will be ending soon, so it's not a contrast to crappy food: this is just plain amazing. Even the tomatoes are good, and I hate tomatoes, which makes me wonder if magic is somehow involved. If you ever find yourself near Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, do yourself the favor of stopping by The Boudin Shop & Country Store.
It's been an efficient day if anything, getting all the way from San Antonio to Breaux Bridge with stops in between. And having such a nice Welcome Center to sleep at after such a great meal, I've got high hopes on how the rest of my trip through Louisiana will be.
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