A Farewell To Fargo

               I’m almost out of here, out of Fargo.  I’ve got a new contract lined up for work in Wisconsin and I leave this Friday. 

               I haven’t danced tango since the Albuquerque Tango Festival at the beginning of November and I’ve been unable to work out my stress through dancing or jogging.

               The tango community in Minneapolis is just too far away, especially considering that a snow squall could force me to miss work.

               I haven’t jogged since the beginning of October when it started to get cold. This coincided with the heat being shut off in my building and I just couldn’t break out of my warm nook to force myself to go for a run.

               Another thing deterring me from outdoor exercise is the stench from the Fargo Landfill. I didn’t mind it at first but now I detest it. It is very noticeable from at least three miles away which encompasses most of the town of Fargo.

               It’s been below zero degrees here for a week and my theory that the stink will freeze has been proved wrong.

               I’ve been here over four months and I feel qualified to give an honest report on the town and its people.

               Demographically speaking, most of the inhabitants are Caucasian and trace their roots to Germany or Scandinavia. There is a sizeable Muslim community here, comprised mostly of Somalians and peoples from India.

               The Nordic people can be very large, guys and girls, and have platinum blond hair. This is in stark contrast to the Somalis who can be so dark as to be almost black. The white people dress in greens and yellows, the colors of their favorite football team, the NDSU Bisons. The Africans dress in solid colors, mostly black, blue, red and green.

               The Swedes and Germans migrated here because they were looking for a place as cold and desolate as their homeland but with the opportunity to own land. Devout Lutherans, they took it upon themselves to bring as many Somalis here as they could in order to save them from a dire situation in their home country.

               The Indians are here because Microsoft has a huge manufacturing plant here. It’s a very big facility located on the southern side of town. I found it on one of my many quests to find a decent supermarket.

               That side of town is growing at a phenomenal rate. There is so much construction of new buildings that it reminds me of New Jersey.

               Here’s something pretty cool. Some of the Somalis look very Italian. They also have Italian names, like Lorenzo and Marco. I guess that’s because part of this country was Italy’s only colony during the Colonial Period.

               After six weeks of idleness, I got bored and joined a recreation center called the Family Wellness Center. It’s a great facility with modern equipment, comparable to Durango’s Recreation Center except Durango’s is much larger, much better and not so crowded.

               The first weekend I went, it wasn’t so packed but that changed on Monday when the temps dropped down to zero degrees at night. Then there was a waiting list for all the free weights and weight machines. The indoor track got so crowded that it was impossible to jog around or maintain a steady pace without bumping into slower traffic.

               After work, especially so now that the temps are so low, there is nothing to do except walk around the Westacres Mall. One complete circuit of every store is two miles in length.

               It feels good to get back into a regular exercise routine. I’ve been idle for too long.

               Since I’ve been here, I’ve written a book, devised an extensive marketing plan and executed it. I’ve reached the end of the internet and have rediscovered that there is nothing on TV except the Weather Channel. I can’t wait to leave.

               Fargo is not a bad place. For me, it was anticlimactic after living Durango, CO, and Farmington, NM. The people here are good people. They come in spite of the cold for employment and opportunity. To give you an idea of what kind of people we’re dealing with here, let me relate a few recent discussions I overheard while I was out and about.

               I was seated at a bar one day, studying for my Cisco Router certification. A loud-mouthed man next to me was engaged in the usual barroom braggadocio when the subject of Obamacare came up. He berated the President for a couple of sentences then his talk quickly became more extreme. When he used the N-word and threatened the leader of our country, something amazing happened: everyone around him got up and walked away.

               These people here aren’t afraid of harsh language. I was at a mini-mart/gas station the other day when the cashier opined that she felt awful.

               A large man behind me blurted out, “And you look like fucking shit, too!”

               The cashier and another lady laughed heartily and then cooed about the man’s honesty. The vulgarities didn’t bother them in the least and they both continued to engage him in flirtatious chatter.

               This just goes to show that the people here place a premium on honesty. Life is hard here and I guess it’s difficult to survive if a person tries to live in a fantasy world. This is probably one of the reasons why I find this place so conducive to writing: it inspires honesty.

               This is not a restaurant town unless you are a fan of restaurant chains. The best place to get good old American food is at the Super Buffet Mongolian Grill on 45th Street. There’s a good salad bar at Hornbacher’s supermarket on 13th Street South and that’s about it.

               One final note: the people here don’t have an accent but they do have a way of speaking. When talking to strangers, they show very little emotion. When talking to fellow Fargonians, they are very animated but the conversations seem to be limited to talk about fishing, hunting, football, hockey and alcohol.

               People from Minnesota have a very pronounced accent and are prone to saying, “Sure, you betcha.”

               I look forward to leaving. The prospect of a change in scenery has brightened my spirits considerably. I am glad I finished out my contract with my current employers to the very end but I am ready for it to end. It has been a long two years, full of amazing journeys and contrasts in landscape and peoples.

               So long, Fargo, it’s been real and it’s been fun but I can’t say it’s been real fun. I am a better man and a better writer for having been here but I won’t be coming back.

Yours truly,

the Kayak Hombre and Capitan Frog,

a.k.a.  perri iezzoni