Hot-lanta: Warm in other ways

The last time I was in Atlanta was for my guy's cousin's wedding.  On 7/7/07, to be exact.  This time, it was for environmental justice-related work, the same reason that first brought me there in 2000.  Besides the meaningful nature of the work and the cherished time spent with family, I was struck by one thing:  The kindness of the people I encountered, unexpected in some cases...

• Take the foul-mouthed trio who sat behind me from SFO to ATL.  "F"-this, "nigga"-that; language that normally wouldn't make me flinch, except in the presence of little ones.  There were at least five munchkins in the immediate area.  As we gathered our belongings upon arrival -- and during what seemed to be the height of the f-bombing -- I was pleasantly surprised when, while reaching for my bag in the overhead compartment, a dreadlocked member of the group interrupted himself to ask, "Miss, can I help you with that?"  You had me at "Miss".  As he effortlessly lifted my bag out of the bin, his two homies were helping an elderly couple bring down theirs. 

• Take the odd pair who helped my ride find me in the maze of Clark Atlanta University by patiently taking turns giving him directions over my phone.  A small Shanghainese post-doc, who eagerly approached me upon spotting a fellow Asian (a rare sight in those parts); and a brawny security guard, who alternated between politely greeting co-eds entering the campus and sternly demanding of a rowdy bunch, "Show me your student IDs."

• Take the intimidating 300-pound tough guy in the low-riding Cadillac that blasted a bass rhythm strong enough to cause a brief heart arrythmia, who didn't hesitate to turn down the din and give us detailed instructions when asked how to access the freeway.

Brutal summer humidity aside, I left Atlanta feeling welcome to return.