dc

I love Washington DC. Even though I haven’t been downtown for months and I’m only 40 miles away, DC will always have a special place in my memories.

DC was my first big adventure – my first solo outing into the great wide world. I grew up in a smallish town – 35,000 people – in Washington state. This town of 35,000 people had a sister town of about another 15,000, and together, this community of 50,000 people was self-contained. We had two shopping malls – one with 15 stores, the other with 50. There were 3 high schools, 7 grocery stores, 3 McDonalds, a Target and a Walmart. There was no need to venture to the ‘Big City’ an hour away, unless you really wanted to go to the zoo, or you were going to the airport. And so we didn’t. We stayed put in our comfortable lives, lumberjacks and mill workers. It’s a good life, full of hard work and some of the most beautiful country in the nation.

But I was born with the spirit of an adventurer. I wanted to try out that thing called ‘college’. I wanted to see what there was to see beyond the bounds of my hometown. I wanted to marry someone that I hadn’t even met yet. Which is what led me to fill out 37 scholarship applications my senior year. And which is what brought me to the nation’s capitol, 2 months before my graduation.

I had qualified for the final round in a scholarship/internship program based in DC. They were flying me out for 3 days, all expenses paid! Me! Little ol’, 18-year-old, from backwoods Washington state, me. I didn’t think I stood a chance against all the competition I was sure to have, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if I made the final cut; I was getting a free trip to the capitol. Of the whole country. On the EAST coast.

And so I did what any 18 year old about to fly 2000 miles away from home for the very first time ever with no parents would do: I went to the public library and checked out two tourist guides to Washington DC, and started planning out what I wanted to see. Ok, so maybe that’s not what every barely-adult’s first response would be – but I was convinced that this might be my only opportunity to ever see the capitol.

Now, this 3 days in DC was going to be full of interviews, and evaluations, and tours, and lunch meetings, and who knew what else. There was no guarantee that I was going to get any time at all to do any sight-seeing. But – just in case there was some downtime – I was going to be prepared. I read those books from front to back, studied the maps, and learned all I needed to do to use the metro. I knew all about the farecard machines, and all the different passes I could buy. I knew I had to stick my little cardboard card in the slot at the turnstile, and it would let me through. I knew about all the different train lines, and where the transfer stations were. I was ready.

I got lucky with the interviews, passed some tests on the first go-round, and ended up with a free morning. I had to be back by 2 pm for an interview with Yet Another Important Person, but I was determined to make the most of it. I got up as early as I could bear to make it to the metro, for the opening of the National Zoo at 6 am.

It was a rainy day in May. I had an umbrella and a travel guide from my public library, and I asked the courtesy hotel shuttle driver to take me to the nearest metro station. I asked him if he could pick me up at noon, and he gave me a business card and told me to call the number when I was ready to be picked up.

And so there I was at the metro station. Putting my money into the farecard machine. Retrieving my farecard and 5 dollars change, all in quarters. Unfazed, I took the card and scooped up the change into my pocket, and started on my adventure. I made my way with the rush hour crowd onto a train, and headed to the National Zoo. It involved a transfer from the Orange Line to the Red Line, but I was up to the challenge.

I made it to my stop, and got off the train. After exiting the metro station, I spotted a convenience store where I bought a little carton of milk and a granola bar. Continuing my adventure as I enjoyed my breakfast, I walked for several blocks before I realized I was going the wrong direction. And so I turned around, and headed to the zoo.

At 7 am on a rainy Thursday morning, you pretty much get the zoo to yourself. None of the buildings are open, but the grounds are, and you can wander around reading about all the animals, and even get a good look at a lot of them. At 9 am one of the zoo stores opened, so I purchased a bag of souvenirs before heading to my next stop.

A brief jaunt down the Red Line brought me to the FBI building. I entered the building, through the tourist entrance, and promptly set off the metal detectors. After emptying $5 of quarters from my pockets into the bowl, and a smirk from the security guard, I was inside. I didn’t have time to wait for the tour, but I did have time to hit the FBI store. Which I did. After buying more souvenirs than I really needed, I was ready to see the next place on my list.

The Hardrock Cafe! What tourist destination is complete without a Hardrock Cafe? I looked at all the available merchandise, and finally decided on the standard white t-shirt. At $18, it was among the most expensive things in my wardrobe, but it was the Hardrock Cafe. I couldn’t leave without a t-shirt.

Standing outside the Hardrock Cafe with my backpack full of souvenirs and pockets full of quarters, I studied my maps and tried to figure out how to make it to that place called ‘The Mall’. ‘The Mall’, from my reading, was not a ‘mall’ at all, but a collection of some of the most famous monuments and museums in the world. I stopped a man on his way to work to make sure I was heading in the right direction – I had already wasted enough time walking the wrong way to the zoo – and after he pointed me the right way, I was off.

As I approached Constitution Ave, I spotted perhaps one of the most exciting things of my trip: a street lined with discount souvenir carts! How could I go wrong with 3 t-shirts for $10? I loaded up on more souvenirs, and purchased a popsicle from a food vendor. I sat on the curb outside the American History Museum and ate quickly, so as not to waste any time that I could be spending admiring the Smithsonian artifacts.

Inside, there was so much to see: gowns of the first ladies, a giant statue of President Washington in Roman get-up, the ruby red slippers. I sat in a booth to buy a picture of me with President Clinton. With a $5 price tag, it was a nice way to empty my pockets. I made it to the Smithsonian store in the basement, where – you guessed it – I filled up what little space I had left in my backpack with even more souvenirs.

I exited the museum from the ‘Mall exit’, and didn’t realize what was in store for me. I knew there was a metro stop – and I was in desperate need of transportation back to my Very Important Interview – and so that was where I was headed. As I walked across the green lawn of ‘The Mall’, I realized that I had the Washington Monument to my right, and the Capitol building to my left. I dug out my disposable camera, and snapped a few pics before continuing on my way to find that post with the infamous ‘M’. I found the ‘M’-marks-the-metro post and rode the escalator down. I hopped on the next Orange Line train in the direction of Vienna, and got off at my stop.

Luckily for me, there were payphones just outside the metro station. Also luckily for me, I still managed to have the 35 cents necessary for a phone call to the hotel. I didn’t have time to go back to the hotel and still make it to my interview, so when the shuttle driver arrived, I convinced him to take me to my interview.

And so I arrived at my interview, a little damp from spending the morning in the rain, and with a backpack stuffed with mementos of my adventures.

I have since been to many places: Manhattan, Paris, Boston, Gettysburg, Casablanca, Rome, Hershey, Cozumel, Houston, Barcelona, Madrid … more places than I can even recall right now. But DC will always be special, because it was my first. And it’s the only city that I have ever explored by myself. I ended up getting that internship, and spent much of the following summer exploring the city on my weekends – sometimes with roommates, sometimes with fellow interns – but often by myself. They say that one of the best ways to get to know yourself is to travel somewhere new, by yourself. You have no safety net, no one else to fall back on to decide what you should do or what you should see. I love DC because it reminds me of being young, and of thinking that the world is a wondrous place; it reminds me that I am capable of a new challenge; and it reminds me that you don’t really need an entire backpack of souvenirs to remember the trip.