This reminds me of Romania and the fears of intellectuals in the capital of being reassigned to the provinces. Oh my God! The soap operas, interventions, and dramas that were spun around that plot!
I used to scoff at these tender-footed scholars/professionals etc. who didn't want to rub elbows with the provincial multitude....until I was repatriated (for a couple of years) to Plattsburgh, New York. Oh Boy! Farrah-Fawcett hairdos on all those of the female persuasion; a church/bar on every corner; the nearest cappuccino, sixty miles away; NO book store...in a college town!!! And, at that time (1987), no internet.
On the other hand, there was, by some miracle, a belly dance teacher in town, so I started studying oriental dance (and I'm still at it). And who knows, maybe if I had stayed, I would have dug up other wonders. As it is, all I remember was this life, narrowly running between the airforce base, the prison, the college, and the inbred natives. AND six months of frigid winter every year.
Happier in Oakland,
Joanna B.