Too Good for the Countryside
When Emily realized that her exams would be extended this time, she was thrilled. She had spent the past summer in the countryside and didn’t enjoy it at all. Having lived with her aunt in London for several years while studying in college, she had become so accustomed to the city life that she had no desire to return to her hometown village.
Studying at university had taught her independence and the many joys of urban life, making a trip back to the countryside entirely unappealing. Though she had grown up there, everything now seemed awkward and ridiculous to her.
Rural living, the pets, the people, endless chores, and pointless worries. No chance of getting a soy milk latte at a coffee shop, no clubs or restaurants. Even the internet seemed to falter in this out-of-the-way place. Frustrating!
Forget about the Tube or cabs for the whole summer, although there isn’t anywhere to go even if they were available. But dogs barked non-stop, as if they had nothing better to do, and every morning, the roosters crowed like mad, disturbing the peace.
Good living spoils you quickly. Emily had gotten used to city life over five years—three years of college and two at university.
Her mum’s sister, Aunt Sophie, had left home young to move to the city, and Emily admired her for that. The thought of spending time in the countryside didn’t appeal to the young student, but she couldn’t refuse her mother.
Sure, she missed her mum, but the prospect of hard work in the garden and around the house, plus the lack of her usual entertainments and conveniences, held no charm. She couldn’t imagine her life without these amenities.
Honestly, there isn’t even an air conditioner in the house! How can you live like that?
To her, rural folks seemed simple and narrow-minded. Local girls had no idea what highlighter was, had never heard of Tinder, and didn’t have a Netflix subscription. When asked what they watched without Netflix, they’d vaguely say “television.”
“How do you meet guys if there’s no Tinder?”
“Why meet new people? Everyone knows everyone else here.”
Emily shuddered at the memory of last summer. She never really settled back in at her childhood home. All three months, she anticipated the end of summer, yearning to return to her familiar environment. And now, in late June, she’d have to go back again…
The train and then the bus. Through the misty window, fields gave way to forests whizzing past. The bus took her further and further from civilization, making her heart heavy.
There was more to the journey still—the bus stopped in a dreary town centre with grim five-storey buildings, from where a single bus ran to her village. If you could call it a bus. More like a shed on wheels. It was only going to get worse.
Emily found herself cursing everyone—the driver, who seemed to hit every bump, herself for agreeing to leave her aunt’s or stay in the dorms, her mum for having her in the countryside.
Barely off the bus, she was wrapped in her mum’s embrace.
“Let me kiss you! Haven’t seen my baby in a year!” her mother, Helen, exclaimed joyfully.
“Mum!” Emily muttered, softening slightly. “Come on, let go!”
“Why the long face?” her mum asked with a smile, taking two-thirds of the bags. “Cheer up, you’re home for the whole summer!”
“That’s what scares me!” Emily groaned. “A summer in the village…”
“The air’s cleaner and the environment is better here,” Helen responded firmly. “That’s a fact! And people are nicer when everyone knows each other.”
“Everyone knows everyone’s business!” Emily added. “As Dad used to say—you fart at one end of the village, and everyone knows in no time!”
“Dad didn’t quite say it like that!” her mum chuckled. “But that’s not all bad. It brings responsibility. People act decently when everyone knows what’s happening—well, they try at least. There are fools everywhere, even in the city.”
“How can someone who thinks sushi is just fish on rice be respectable?” Emily complained, seeing her mum’s confusion, laughed.
“You’re just young! You get hung up on little things. If there’s something bad out here, it’s the country roads. That’s a fact.”
That seemed to conclude the argument. Yet, in reality, Emily and her mum returned to it often. It all irked Emily, from the food to the barking dogs, but nothing annoyed her more than people who seemed trapped in their small lives. She felt like an outsider among them.
“Don’t be so arrogant!” Helen would plead, often realizing she’d said it for the fifth time that day. It felt like talking to a wall.
Maybe Emily just liked feeling she was different, better? Though she was hardly a child; Helen had been a mum at that age. Maybe it irked Emily that she herself couldn’t fully separate from the village?
Emily soon reacquainted herself with the roosters crowing at dawn, the garden chores, and the lack of anything resembling entertainment except for evenings at the library and the occasional amateur concerts at the village hall.
She could get used to everything except the people. They all seemed small and clueless. Emily didn’t understand why none of them had moved on like she or her aunt did, leaving that lifestyle behind.
They were stuck in this world of stagnation and content with it!
“They like it!” her mum explained. “They don’t know any other life.”
“If people don’t expand their horizon, they’ll never know how much better it is beyond!” Emily agreed. “But why doesn’t anyone try to live more cultured, even here? Look towards self-education? Engage in creativity or learn science?”
“When?” Helen laughed. “They need to plough the garden, chop the wood, light the stove, milk the cow…”
“This peasant lifestyle horrifies me!” Emily said with disgust.
“Don’t look down on people so. They just live a way unfamiliar to you. I lived in the city, and there were different standards of living there too. Have you forgotten when you were little? You loved it here! I remember you sitting on the porch with your friend Lucy, munching carrots straight from the bucket. How you’d run after the chicks and then bolt from the hen! Remember?”
“Forgot and don’t want to remember!” Emily said defiantly, yet internally thinking, “People in the city are different,” but she stayed silent.
In the city, she easily became part of the student crowd. Her interests were understood and accepted both in college and university. Here, she had no one to talk to. Emily felt lonely.
“Just because I could afford your education in the city doesn’t mean you’re so different from everyone else on the planet!” her mum noted.
“I am different!” Emily replied, tilting her head arrogantly.
“Do you enjoy that feeling?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your superiority! Do you like knowing you’re smarter than everyone here? Do you believe you’re better for it?”
Emily pondered. Initially, she wanted to argue but then nodded after considering her feelings. Her mum sighed. Probably, this behavior was just a symptom of low self-esteem. In most cases, there’s no desire to elevate oneself by diminishing others.
“Yeah, I do think I’m better!” Emily continued. “Here, everyone is clueless.”
“And me?”
“Not you, you’re normal. Aunt Sophie too. But the rest know nothing. I chatted with the English teacher recently. Teachers should be the most educated in places without research centers and universities. Yet, this English teacher didn’t know the Emma was a Jane Austen novel. Let alone mention the elements of Shakespeare’s works!”
“Well, I don’t know about those!” her mum remarked with a smirk, looking displeased at her daughter. “So that makes me dumb too?”
“You talked with Diana, right?”
“Yes, that’s her. In glasses, rather odd.”
“Diana teaches English in primary. They go through basic reading and writing, not your fancy literature theories.”
“But she should at least properly know English!”
“Of course, she should. And she knows it ‘perfectly well’ for what’s required to teach her pupils from first to fourth grade according to the national curriculum!” her mum explained patiently.
“That’s exactly it!” Emily nodded. “And no further development. Even I know this, despite it not being my specialty.”
“I just don’t see why you’re so proud of it? Look, not everyone needs to be an encyclopedia; everyone’s on their own path!” losing patience, Helen frowned. “You might know more than some, but that doesn’t mean you’re the smartest. Imagine finding yourself among people leagues smarter than you. They’d think you’re a simpleton from the countryside. Would you like that?”
“I wouldn’t end up like that!” Emily replied more sharply than intended. “I can always engage in meaningful conversation.”
“Don’t be so sure of that, dear! Did you feel this pride in the city too?”
Emily considered.
“In the city, people are more on my level.”
“What level?”
“Higher than in the village!” Emily bristled, annoyed that her mum looked at her like a stubborn child. “I don’t feel lonely there, though it was tough at first.”
“Oh really? It was hard?”
“Yes, definitely. As they say, you can take the person out of the village, but you can’t take the village out of the person. Surely, some of it lingered… Initially, I wasn’t very popular.”
“Did that bother you?”
“Of course! But I learned to live and behave differently. There’s nothing left in me to criticize.”
“And that’s why you judge others now?”
“Do you truly believe it’s pride?”
“Yes. And self-esteem issues. You boast about knowing some things, forgetting the countless things you don’t yet understand. You look down on the locals as if they’re a flock of sheep, not real people. Sure, they don’t read history books, rarely care about politics, avoid the opera. But what level of knowledge do they need in the village? Who taught them there? Also, you haven’t completely shed your rural habits!”
“I have!” Emily protested.
“I haven’t heard the word ‘proper’ from city folks, yet you’ve said it twice!” her mum noted playfully.
“But I…”
“What’s wrong? Upset? Don’t judge others and look within yourself. I sent you to university, you’ve learned. But think of them. All those you look down upon. You studied at university for two years, before that at college, living with your aunt. You know something about language, literature, history—well done! They know how to cultivate the land. When to grow a particular vegetable. Which herbs to use for illnesses without antibiotics. Do you know all this?”
Emily hesitated.
“I don’t because I wasn’t taught!” she deflected quickly.
“You could have learned while living at home. Before college, but that knowledge escaped you. Yet you criticize others for being limited!” Helen laughed. “Think about it.”
Emily fell silent. It was uncomfortable being criticized by her own mother. And for what? For never loving gardening or washing endless dishes, forever-ailing cats, or freaky praying mantises in the tall grass?
She might even argue that her mum didn’t raise her for this, but that could be debated.
For a moment, the notion of joining a local school flitted through her mind. She considered starting some extracurricular sessions to raise these villagers, or at least their children, to a higher level of knowledge. But within minutes, she dismissed it. They wouldn’t find time between weeding cucumbers and planting potatoes. It probably wouldn’t help anyway. No point wasting time.
Emily stopped arguing with her mum about country life and its residents. Apparently, her mum hadn’t drifted far from them. Years in the village left their mark on her. She wouldn’t understand!
She just had to endure this summer, hoping that by the next, she’d find a job in the city or, better yet, get married, ensuring she wouldn’t be dragged back home.
