Originally published March 15, 2008

Staring at a monitor in sleepy and familiar Habersham county, it’s difficult to imagine a place like Penn. It’s near impossible to believe it’s a place in which I’ve spent the last six months of my life. I know a lot of college kids have weird homecomings, but I’d contend that mine are weirder than most. It stems from the disconnect between the worlds of Habersham county, GA and the UPenn campus.

I board an afternoon train in bustling 30th Street Station. 13 hours later, I’m deposited into the dead quiet of Toccoa, GA at 5:45 am. The streets are deserted, the traffic lights are set to blink red, and the air smells amazing. My room looks like I never left it, and after a nap I’m catching up with folks who wear Dixie Outfitter shirts and call people “Jew” if they’re being dumb.

It’s like landing on another planet. Not necessarily a worse planet–a lot of times I appreciate Habersham more than Penn–but a very, very different one. Watching the sun set over Highway 365 or walking with my dad in the hundreds of acres of national forest that surround our house, half a square mile of urban Philadelphia seems like a strange six months’ home.

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