urbanmennonite.com

I went to the Amish Market in Upper Marlboro on Saturday and it was weird.  It was good too, don’t get me wrong; I adore whoopie pies and pretzels.  But it was weird because:

1.You cannot find two populations more different from each other than the Amish and the population of Upper Marlboro Prince George’s County,Maryland.  At least there are white people in PG County because you can’t really say the reverse.  But despite all those historical and religious differences, when it comes to the culture of food?  Eh, not so different.

2. The Amish know nothing about me.  I am just one more face in the crowd.  But I know them.  Oh sure, I don’t know their names or their family situations or them personally but I know something about their heritage, about their community, about who they fundamentally are.  I’m only three (great-grandpa, right?) generations removed from being Amish myself.  If it hadn’t been for some choice made by some young guy, I could be serving up angel food cakes and shoofly pies to tourists waiting to get married and have kids because all I have is an eighth-grade education. I have some weird connection to them.  And I’m torn between wanting them to recognize me as one of their own and desperately hoping that they don’t.

But again, the whoopie pies?  Excellent.