Beginning with the clickety-clack of hundreds of high heels hitting the pavement, my day was starting off exactly how I had pictured it for the past half year. The moment I stepped out of my uncle's Monte Carlo Chevrolet , I became one of the masses headed into the capitol for the 9-5 work day. My new grey suit itched a bit as I headed down the escalator and tapped my Smart Card, pushing my way through the Metro system turn styles. Beep...clunk, clunk. Much smoother, I noted, than the Boston "T" system that I am accustomed to.
The Metro shot out of no where and slid to a smooth stop directly in front of me...almost noiselessly. Suited bodies marched onto the train like military men. I followed, sheepishly pulling off the Banana Republic tag still attached to my pants. Itchiness resolved.
"It's very quiet this morning," said the tanned, farmer like gentleman sitting beside me, with whom I had not initiated conversation. "I think they are all still asleep." Yup, I thought, so let's let them sleep. I smiled, however, and the man seemed satisfied with my response. He was a nice guy, I just didn't really feel like talking. My attention was focused on soaking it all in: the people, the atmosphere, the vibe of the men and women who run our capitol. Okay, maybe not THE men and women who run our nation- their preferred mode of travel is by limo or private vehicle- however, the backbone of Washington rides the Metro every morning and every evening. No I am one of them.
The train whizzed quickly along the blue line, through Rosslyn, Metro Center, and finally arriving at Capitol South. I gingerly stepped off the train and, pretending I was a regular, I headed off with a determined air in the same direction as the kid who was walking in front of me. He was my age and dressed in a suit coat and tie...he was probably interning like me, right? Wrong. He got on another train and I turned around and retraced my steps.
Faux pas numero uno. Oh well, I brushed it off- I'm new to this.
Standing at the top of the Metro stairway, I turned towards Independence Avenue. It was a straight shot to the Senate Building, the Library of Congress' Jefferson, Madison, and Adams buildings, as well as the Capitol Building across the way: my summer lay before me. I went to find a Starbucks.
Rejuvenated with caffeine- which my close friends know is nothing but a code name for a "Venti Non-fat Vanilla Chai Latté"- I headed to the front steps of the LOC (Library of Congress) to meet my fellow NJC interns and start our tour. The steps of the colossal building, fashioned after Italian Renaissance architecture, were already occupied by a group of protesters. Carrying signs reading "Save our Babies" and "Though Shalt Not Kill" posters, about twenty people wearing red t-shirts posed a somewhat difficult obstacle to maneuver. My chai latté and my heavy brief case made me totter on my high heeled shoes. I should have left these ones in Vermont where they'll just sit in my sister's closet.
The Library of Congress was breath taking. As the largest library in the nation, they receive over 22,000 items per day and they only keep around 11,000 for display. The large domed vestibules are intricately decorated with murals, etchings, engravings, and sculptures chiseled out of marble. Every aspect of the LOC represents an element of American history. Thomas Jefferson's entire collection of books- almost seven thousand volumes (this number may not be accurate) are sitting on shelves in the new library room on display in the Jefferson building. The most striking feature of the facility is the fact that we, the American people own the library. Therefore, as a student, I could request to read one of those very books that Jefferson gathered for his personal collection.
The LOC left me a bit tired from dodging stray elementary school students who had wandered off from their tour groups, so I quickly made a dash for the door when we were released for lunch. Out under the tame May sun, I went off to grab my first capitol lunch.
