In Savannah I hit yet another destination from my "stickynote the U.S." dinner party. I did not, however, manage to structure my visit around Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, as was also included on the sticky.
But, though Midnight in the Garden... was abandoned, I did actually play tourist. I took the cue that it was a Sunday morning and it was unlikely I was going to find readers looking at anything other the Sunday paper and, for the first time took a city tour. I boarded a trolley full of Burmese and U.S. tourists and listened to the guide point out historic landmarks where Jingle Bells was written and where Martin Luther King, Jr. tested out his I Have a Dream speech, tagging all with charming southern verity that wasn't really a question--isn't that pretty y'all? I thought, how easy it is to be a tourist! I should have ridden the tour buses in all the towns I’d passed through.
She brought us to the Jean Baptiste church which, with its mammoth proportions, seemed in odd juxtoposition with the the intimate way people had spoken about Christianity the day before on the beach in Panama City when they described the religious books they were reading.
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