Nostalgia

Home: An UnfamiliaR Familiarity

Discovering the Niches of Pittsburgh

Not counting home, I have been to twenty-three states and eleven countries. I could tell you all about the breathtaking views and monuments from those visits, but most of the places hold no sentimental value to me. They’re nice, but besides some pretty pictures and quirky Instagram captions, what do they offer? On the other hand, my hometown of Pittsburgh hardly qualifies as a tourist destination, but it’s special in its own way. And yet, sitting comfortably in my little suburban bubble, I have hardly explored anything the city has to offer. I decided that after thirteen years of living here, it was time to actually get to know my city, so earlier this year, my friend and I spent an entire day visiting local shops in both the suburbs and downtown, exploring the dichotomy between old and new.

Our adventure started early in the morning when I picked up my friend from her house, and we headed to a local coffee shop nearby called Convive. As soon as we walked in, the earthy scent of freshly grounded beans mixed with hints of cinnamon and chocolate wafted through the air, and the warmth of the store surrounded us. Although I wouldn’t consider myself a coffee enthusiast, I appreciate the occasional cup of caffeine, and Convive is one of my favorite spots to visit for that purpose. However, this was my first time really spending time there, rather than grabbing a drink to-go, and I took the opportunity to truly appreciate the atmosphere.

Although the shop is relatively spacious, an assortment of leafy green plants takes up a decent amount of space, complementing the interior’s soft greens and yellows. A white pot sits in the corner near the door, home to a small tree with narrow green leaves. Orchids populate the counter, and a pink and white one near the register adds a splash of unexpected color that doesn’t look out of place, despite not quite matching the store’s aesthetic. Small wooden tables and chairs line the walls, and at any given time, there’s at least a couple of people seated throughout the shop. 

We placed our orders and snagged a table near the counter, ready to spend the next hour or two worldbuilding a new story. I had always assumed Convive was similar to other coffee shops like Starbucks or Peet’s, but I began to realize that it was much more intimate. Whereas the conversations in larger shops blended together into white noise and there was so much background noise that it was easy to ignore a customer opening the door, Convive allowed us to notice those details. During our time there, snippets of conversation drifted over but never loud enough to distract us from our own conversation. Occasionally, the jangling bells on the door announced someone entering or exiting the shop. It was different but familiar enough to not feel disconcerting. 

After some time, we decided to grab some lunch next door from Burgatory before heading to our high school to visit some former teachers. We pulled into the parking lot a few minutes before the end of the school day and stayed in the car, waiting for the waves of students to start leaving the building so that we could easily slip in unnoticed. The school looked just as uninviting as I remember it. With a gray and brown exterior and slivers of windows that look like they were slapped onto the walls as an afterthought, the building looked more like a prison than a school. A true delight.

Walking through the hallways of my high school months after graduation felt surreal. Wandering throughout the building reminded me of the conversations I had with friends in between classes and visits to favorite teachers’ classrooms after school. More than anything else, it felt comforting to return to a familiar place. After initially splitting up to visit some classrooms on our own, we met up at our old English teacher’s classroom.

At first glance, the room appeared the same, but there were small things that had been changed here and there. A new poster on the wall, a little figurine on a table, a hole in the ceiling. Barely noticeable, and yet, it made a difference. It wasn’t surprising because, of course, room decor will change over time, but I came to a realization that change is always more jarring from the outside, in the sense that we often notice differences when comparing one point in time to another. However, when we continuously experience something, small changes often go unnoticed. In this case, it felt like the room had evolved, rather than remaining stagnant. There was life there.

We spent over an hour talking to our teacher about anything and everything we could think of, similar to my conversations with her in senior year. Even though she had papers to grade, assignments to finalize, and emails to send, she chose to set those responsibilities aside to simply listen and ask us about how we were doing. It reminded me of her weekly check-ins from class, where we would take five minutes every Friday to go around the room and share one word to describe how we were feeling. Such a small thing, but it was clear—she cared about her students.

After our visit to that familiar place, it was time to explore something a bit more foreign. We headed south toward downtown Pittsburgh to visit two local stores. First up was Wildcard, a shop filled with stationery and knick knacks made by local artists. I drove around the block a couple of times until a parking spot finally opened up on the street, and I discovered that I was still capable of parallel parking. Wonders never cease.

Even before entering the store, the colorful exterior caught my attention; the combination of the lime green frame around the windows and the bright pink logo with intricate lettering offered the building a distinct character. Someone had put thought into making this their store with a carefully chosen, playful design that looked almost accidental. The interior was no different. With wooden floors, brick walls, and items scattered around in semi-organized displays, it felt like a store that encouraged visitors to explore the products. People spent time looking for the perfect thing, rather than simply rushing in and grabbing what they needed. Some stores look almost too organized and pristine as if people never really browse through anything, but Wildcard had the opposite effect.

As expected, it was a shop where we looked through everything they had to offer. In every corner one-of-a-kind home decor pieces and creatively-designed totes waited for someone to discover them. After circling through the store twice, I decided on an enamel pin and a sticker, both with cheesy inspirational messages and colorful designs. Perhaps they offer meaningless sentiments, but they reminded me of my past idealistic self. Why not indulge that inner child every once in a while?

I also selected a sheet of paper to purchase for no other reason than the fact that it looked nice. Over on one side of the store, there’s a whole wall of paper with different prints available. After much deliberation, I settled on a llama print, while my friend went with an ocean blue paper of a felt-like texture covered in a beautiful gold leaf design. We spent enough time in the store that by the time we left, it felt like we had already explored everything there was to see, but I remembered what I had learned earlier that day.

There’s always something new to discover in the familiar.

Finally, it was time for our last stop, a small shop called Blue Monkey Tea which sells a variety of loose leaf tea. Unlike Wildcard, the store stood unassumingly on the outside; in fact, I had passed by it numerous times before without ever noticing its presence. Upon walking in, I felt overwhelmed by all the available options, and the narrow aisles with shelves overflowing with tea leaves and barely enough room for two people to squeeze past each other further contributed to that sensation. However, despite the mildly claustrophobic set up of the interior, the store was not suffocating. 

On the contrary, the scent of different types of leaves mingling together offered a familiar comfort. I was reminded of my family’s kitchen drawer, stuffed with all the teas I could possibly want. Perhaps that’s why I was drawn to a black peach and mint green option. Although I initially focused on flavors I had never heard of before, hoping to try something new, I ended up stumbling upon those two by accident. I had just set down a jar of Game of Thrones inspired mixture when I noticed an entire shelf of green teas, and slightly farther over were a few containers of black teas. Both old favorites with just a hint of something new, almost hidden among the unfamiliar options that filled the store.

There’s always something familiar to discover in the new.

We made our purchases and headed back to the car. After dropping my friend off, I spent the rest of the drive dwelling on the day’s adventures. It had been a good day of revisiting old places and discovering new ones, and I began to realize that the two were not necessarily separate experiences. After all, exploring new locations may bring back old memories, and in returning to familiar locations, we start to see changes and differences that begin to make it new.

My English classroom (and high school in general) has already changed so much in the months since I’ve graduated, and I can only imagine what will happen in a few months or years to the local stores that we visited. Will they still be there? Even if they’re gone or unrecognizable someday, what remains are the memories of those visits, and regardless of how ordinary those places appear to others, for me, they are extraordinary.

We often imagine adventures in faraway cities halfway across the world, but this is a reminder that there is so much to discover nearby. After all, life is about finding excitement in the ordinary.

Words: Nicole Ru