the Rice Thresher

Issue date: 9/25/09 Section: Opinion

There are some things a New Yorker inherently misses when transplanted thousands of miles from home and left to cope in a new college environment. The hectic buzz of a new life chapter - in my case, residing at 1601 Rice Boulevard - seems at once marvelously invigorating and sadly lacking in the comforts of home.

After my first month at Rice, I can assuredly say, "Houston, you are not New York."

To be fair, the servery has cooked us some stellar meals, I've managed to grow accustomed to the idea of Duncan's paper plates and perpetually-flooding showers, and I've taken pride in the concept of being "LEED gold-certified," even if this means we may always have to keep our windows locked and our elevator MIA.

In short, I see myself, you know, "adjusting well."

But Texans, my new neighbors, I must say that you are missing out. Life here is great as one slowly gets accustomed to the ins and outs of Southern culture, but it lacks a certain vibe that makes me nostalgic for home.

Firstly, your bagels suck. In New York, circularly-shaped bread does not constitute a bagel. Bagels are beasts of their own. If you don't understand, then I am sorry for you.

Second, "you" and "all" are unique, separate words. I've tried the slur, but it's like mixing servery soups, and it sounds absolutely disgusting.

Third, biscuits and gravy should never be eaten first thing in the morning, especially when innocent Northerners can easily confuse the white gravy for a hot, runny cereal. Gravy and granola, somehow, just isn't the sort of confusion one wants to deal with before a 9 a.m. class.

Fourth, Rice seems to have only one type of tree. Forget the evergreens and sugar maples - all I've ever found are miles of the same oddly-shaped oaks. Gorgeous, sure, but where's the diversity?

One last point, perhaps the most shocking observation I've made since my arrival: We don't live in a city. Despite what Rice tour guides say, Houston is not the fourth-largest city in the United States. Houston is not even a city. It is a sprawling conglomerate of houses and businesses that just mesh into one giant place. A city is supposed to be crowded and bustling, with buildings on top of one another, stores on every corner and cars waiting in traffic (maybe we have that one concession). Where is the convenience of living in a city if you need a vehicle to get to Target or a GPS to find a restaurant?

Though I have other concerns, these cover the main issues. How can fall be starting in less than a week with no change in weather, no apple cider and no orange leaves? Don't get me wrong - I'm not complaining about the warmth. But without the cider, how can fall possibly subsist?

Houstonians, if you've never traveled to New York, savor your blissful ignorance. You may have great parks, fantastic winter weather, Southern hospitality and a fantastic school I will hate to leave for winter break, but no place can have it all.

All right, I've had my rant. Houston, I'm counting on you to tell me what I shouldn't miss, to awaken a new loyalty in the freshman migrants, to make me love what this city has to offer, to show me that Texas pride. I have four years, and I don't want to be missing cider every time October rolls around.

Johanna Ohm is a Duncan College freshman who grew up in Albany, New York.

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