Freshman on The Hill

Photo by María Helena Carey

One of the quaint things about moving to a place like the Hill is that you get the feeling that you live in a very small village. Of course, it would be a small village with access to excellent cultural events, world-class dining and where you can meet not just actual locals but also people from all fifty states and many countries simply by walking a few blocks.

I once lived in a large city where kids who went to school with me would sometimes meet elsewhere, or even live in the same apartment building. There were a few coincidences; a few relations; a few large families who seemed to know everyone. And yet, the disconnect and the feeling of being a stranger was palpable. It often felt very lonesome in a city of millions.

I also lived in a medium-sized city, where some people had known one another as far back as several generations, while others only knew each other for a short while– acknowledged newcomers and outsiders who were forced to either integrate into the fabric of the area while still being labeled “outsiders”, or take their outsider role in stride and reach out instead to other newcomers and create their own community.

Now that I live in this small-city-within-large-city framework, the rules seem to bend. There is a large community of people who, most anywhere else, would be labeled as outsiders and strangers; however, they have banded together to create a dynamic and integrated village where everyone seems to be a breathing part of it; not unlike a sea sponge that comes together and forms a strong colony while remaining mostly unicellular in nature.

Upon first arriving, I began to wonder whether I’d moved to a magical land where everyone I met seemed to be the most connected people in the planet; however, soon enough, I started to realize that the connections and the coincidences and the do-you-knows are just part and parcel of living on the Hill.

To illustrate my personal experience with this everyone-knows-everyone-else phenomenon, I remember one day walking into Frager’s Hardware –certainly one of the long-time icons of the Capitol Hill community — and having a lovely woman give me a warm smile and admire the way I had my then-18-month-old wrapped against my body like a backpack with a special piece of fabric. I smiled back and told her I had a friend who used this particular method constantly and had told me where to get the wrap.

She knit her brow as she thought for a few seconds and asked me, “Do you know X?”

I had to laugh as, yes, X was the friend in question. And somehow, right there between the vacuum bags and the brooms, I had become a little more of a local.