It came to me unexpectedly. Whilst sitting in the Moscow Library of Foreign Literature, reading "The Encyclopedia of Southern Culture" I got mešstricken with a thought. "Well, there's Encyclopedia of Southern Culture, alright. I guess there might be an Encyclopedia of American Culture probably. But I never heard of Encyclopedia of Yankee...oh, well, Northern Culture. Ain't that good enough proof that South is a special part of the country?" I thought so.
But actually this part of America always mystified me. There was somethingš that I couldn't understand. Why South? Why so? How come? An' all that Southern stuff such as "Gone with the wind", lazy Southern accent, small towns, cotton fields, "Dixie", sweet potatoes, country music - all of them things made me wonder and dream that someday I would see this land.
Sometimes dreams come true. When I knew that I would go to study in Americaš for a year I sure was glad. But when I was told that I would study in Washington & Lee University, oh, man!, I was happy as a skylark in the morning. Gee whiz, to study in the university where Robert E. Lee, the Greatest Hero of the South, once was a president! To spend a year in the South, which I wanted to see. Guess, I was the happiest person in the world then.

Well, there were no special signs just like "YOU ARE IN DIXIE!" or something like that when I stepped out of the plane in Roanoke, VA. (Actually there were but I found them much later, on the road from Pennsylvania to Maryland.) But Blue Ridge Mountains were different from Green Mountains of Vermont . And there were lotta Confederate Flag bumper stickers on pickup trucks and "Put your heart in Dixie or get your ass out of it!" as well. By the way, number of pickups with muscular bearded folks at the wheel was much more than in Vermont.
In Lexington, on W&L campus magnoliasšblossomed, and hot, humid air was filled with their sharp aroma. We were walking down the Colonnade, beautiful red-brick, white-column mansion, W&L symbol. The old gentleman in navy coat and tan trousers passed by, smiled and said, "How y'all?" Well, it wasš kinda coup de grace for me. I finally got myself in the South!š
On the very first sight one cannot find something unusual that'd belong to the South only. Looks like the same land, the nature's more or less the same too. But later you begin to feel it. Couple of times I crossed Mason-Dixon Line (the real purpose of this border is to separate "Y'all..." from "You, guys...", as I was told). No idea how to explain it but in Michigan, Illinois, Pennsylvania I felt kinda strange. Been many places there but having' compare them to Southland I felt that Virginia or Tennessee is much better for me. Maybe South is not only geographic place but what they call "state of mind".

Things are sure different in the North and in the South. Just a symbol for Northerners is a matter of pride for Dixieland folks. I remember the T- shirt I bought in Vermont. There were huge picture of Rebel Flag on it and slogan that one may count as offensive, "You wear your X an' I'll wear mine!" Our Americanš guides from Middlebury College looked kinda sour and they told me later, "Well, we sure know that you are lill' bit crazy 'bout Southern stuff, we understand, but it'd be better for you not to wear it, at least here, 'cause for many people it means Ku Klux Klan, oppression, racism etc." Well, they were right, I guess. But when I found myself in W&L Party week, couple o' days later, almost everyone told me so, "You've got a-cool T-shirt, man! I like it!"
Every fraternity in Washington & Lee has a portrait of most beloved general in American history, I mean "Old Marse Robert". Almost half of W&L students have Confederate Flag in their rooms. There's no need to ask after whom many of highways in Tennessee, Virginia a/o called Lee Highway. And Lee Streets and Avenues as well, 'specially in small towns. Small town in Dixie, I guess, is a key to understanding South. To my opinion heart of the South is lying there. Of course, there are lotta small towns in the North. But in the South they have their own charm, I would say. Well, there are more pickups than cars on the street, most of the houses have front porches, Thursday afternoon downtown is quiet as a cemetery, county fair is a social event of the year, a grocer gives you a change from your 5$ bill and you don't bother to count it - and you know that you are in Lynchburg, TN or Lexington, VA or Pulaski, NC or almost everywhere in Southland.

I remember, being' in Philadelphia I asked a policeman, "Ah beg yo' paad'n, saa. Wouldya be so kind a-tell me, how c'n I find Chestnut St.?" Well, he answered, then looked at my gray cap, grinned and asked me, "Where are you from, son?" - "Well, I'm from Vajinnah, saa, fer sure." - "Oh, yeah. You sure are." And there were some similar situations in Noo Yawk, Mishig'n and other places.
Southern speech, (well, it's my strong private opinion!) is the best I ever heard. In Moscow I spoke ever now and then with Englishmen from London and Glasgow, I heard Irish speech, but Southern drawl beats them all. Some years ago I heard old-time country singer Red Sovine. Though I knew English good enough then, I could hardly understand him. But I sure liked the way he sang and spoke. And I wanted to learn Southern way of talking. All that, "I ain't got no idea", "a-fixin' to go", "y'all look mighty fine" etc. Well, I tried, I learned hard. To the end of my year southerners could recognize foreign accent in my speech, but Northerners were almost always sure that I came from somewhere in the south of Mason-Dixon.
I would say one of my teachers was guy named Jeff Foxworthy. He's a comedian an' he had success with his "redneck stuff". On his debut CD he has a number called "Words in the South". (There's similar number also on his second CD , "Southern accent"). Thanks to my friend Gene, he could translate "southern" into more or less normal English, so I even could learn it ( and use it). I heard a joke that Southerner consider hisself bilingual, 'cause he can speak "normal" (Southern) language and understand Yankee speech. Guess there's a lotta truth in it. Southerners are proud of their way of talking and like it.

There was a tag on my room's door in the dorm, "Here lives Sergei, a.k.a. Sean, Honorable Russian Redneck, Ph.D. in Redneckology." My friends always pick on me because of it. So what I could do? I like rednecks. They are funny, but the same time they are good folks. Heard, someone said they are backbone of America. Long-haired bearded fellow in checkered shirt and faded jeans, driving pick-up truck while the tape playing "Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys." - that's rather common picture I saw in Virginia, Georgia, Mississippi and other states south of Pennsylvania. America-famous "Mr. Redneck Guy" Jeff Foxworthy once said that everybody was redneck once in a while. To "have a lill' bit pink 'round the collar" does not mean that you have to live somewhere in Alabama or so. Again, it's kinda state of mind. I read all of them books "You might be a redneck if..." and ever now and then I thought, "Aw, gosh! It happened with me then. Gee whiz, I did it once." and so forth. But truly, rednecks are not cruel beasts. At least that's what I found out when I spoke with many of them being on a rodeo or in a bowling.
In addition rednecks is the part of American culture, pretty big part, I'd say. Two of the brightest examples of them rednecks are Elvis and Forrest Gump. Elvis, the King, achieved enormous success. Fame and fortune, money and influence - he had everything. But the same time he was a common Mississippi-born fellow from a log cabin, who liked Pepsi and peanut butter sandwiches and always referred to a man "sir" and "ma'am" to a woman. He loved pink Cadillacs and gold suits, but every teenager in '50s did the same. And Big El was admired by ordinary folks not only because of his talent but because they knew that he is "a good ole boy from another small town". Great American Dream alive-o!
Forrest Gump, "Oscar" champion of 1994, is another example. Again we can see poor redneck guy somewhere from Alabama whose life mixes with major events in American history in the 2nd half of XX century. I heard some people said it was tear-jerkin shit comedy, other say 'twas a great event in last 10 movie years. Anyway, it was something worth seeing. IMHO, the secret of Gump's success is that ordinary people again saw how a common feller ( an idiot, though) became a kinda star. Just like the Russian Fool Ivan. So the thing is that folks like rednecks (especially when they become stars). But no one likes when they call him a redneck. 'Xept fo' me, I s'pose.

Well, there came the time for me to go home. After a year in US, in Dixieland, where "I wish I was" I may say that I'm the lucky one. I've been almost everywhere in South (except Carolinas), from Mississippi to Maryland, from Memphis, TN to Harper's Ferry, W.Va.. Civil War battlefields, small towns and big cities, CoCola and Jack Daniel's, Chevys and Macks - I love it all. I've learned a lot during this time. And words on the belt buckle "...southerner by the grace of God" are no mere sound. I guess I gonna miss it, but most of all I gonna miss the South as the place where my soul is resting in quiet an peace. Anyway, I gonna sing the old Irish song with such words like, "...and still I live in hopes to see the Holy Ground once more", knowing that someday I'll find myself in the South again.