Redneck, Mud Bogging

I grew up in the Caribbean* until middle school, when my entire life changed and I came to the United States. From what I had seen in Spanish-dubbed movies like Home Alone and Mrs. Doubtfire, the U.S. was all skyscrapers and giant suburban houses and manicured front lawns. It looked nice!

Imagine my shock when, instead, it was rebel flags, trailer parks, and woods. Lots and lots of woods. Some lakes, too. With gators.

You see, I had come to the deep south πŸ˜„


Unlike whatever Twitter’s trying to sell you, my personal experience was actually pretty nice.

I made friends with the nerdier kids, being a huge dork myself πŸ™‚ What we mostly had in common was our love of reading and… we were all dirt-poor. The popular kids had money. We didn’t. A lot of those kids, poor like me, happened to be white.

My good friend Christina was what she called a “redneck.” It was my first time hearing that term. Uh, it was my first time hearing ALL terms. All words. All of English. I only spoke Spanish for the first year I was there, then learned English with immersion and the help of my friends.

I asked a boy one day, “Why do you call yourself a redneck? What’s that?”

He pulled the collar of his shirt, leaned in, and said, “See my neck? Does it look red to you?”

“No.” It looked beige, not red.

“No, really. Look at it.”

I think he was joking with me. I said, “Oh, I see it now.” I didn’t πŸ˜†

Mud Bogging

My friends were very welcoming. Ashley took me to a demolition derby one day, and I had a lot of fun. Another time, Christina asked me to come mud bogging with her.

“That sounds fun,” I said. “What is it?”

“We take a truck down to the hole and play in the mud.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s fun,” she insisted. “If you don’t have a truck you can just play in the mud and stuff.”

say what?

“You can wear a bathing suit if you want.”

I politely declined… πŸ€—

Christina and I were friends all through middle school and high school, don’t get me wrong! I just didn’t want to play with her in the mud, because that’s what it sounded like. I’m sure it was more fun if you actually had a truck (we didn’t).

I did go swimming in murky, gator-infested lakes, and I really cringe when I think back on that!! Yikes!! 😱😱😱

Did you know about mud bogging?

μ•ˆλ…•! Bye! Ciao!


* I don’t like saying exactly where I’m from due to a weird experience I had. I can explain in the comments if anyone is curious.


  1. Wow I had never heard the term β€œmud bogging”. Where I grew up in the San Joaquin valley (Central California) we didn’t have enough water nearby to bog in the mud LOL. Nor did we have trucks (well, our dad did).

    Liked by 2 people

  2. That sounds like a lot of fun for my five year old. And it’s probably fun when you’re in it. But then what about the walk or drive home afterwards? Lol All jokes aside, that sounds like a wonderful adolescence!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hahaha Yeah, maybe if I was younger, I would have totally done it! 😝

      And it was wonderful indeed πŸ™‚ We were poor but we’d get creative and have fun outside.

      And it was the early 90’s so we didn’t stress over social media. Whoever lived nearby was your friend, regardless of age or color or anything. If you didn’t get along, you learned to get along. It created solid friendships πŸ™‚

      Liked by 2 people

  3. Mud bogging? I think that’s what they’re referring to on county music videos, when they drive big trucks around in the mud. Or when young women wrestle in the mud. 🀠

    Liked by 1 person

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