It was three weeks into my first visit to the USA when I first heard the
honking of a car horn. My hosts informed me that honking was considered an
insult to other road users and was rarely resorted to if it was a must. On
roads, lane discipline and speed limits were strictly adhered to. Pedestrians
have the first right of way at intersections. I was struck by the civic discipline
on roads, malls and other public places.
The other aspects of life that strikes first–time visitors are civility
and cultural sensitivity of people. Passing strangers greeted each other with a
cheery ‘Hi’ or a smile or a nod. However, if in England “an Englishman’s home is
his castle”, in the USA, one can live in splendid isolation if one chose to,
within a civilised society.
The axiom “customer is king” is neither an empty slogan nor a cliché.
Sellers, store owners and service providers—all take it seriously as if their
life depended on it. Reputations to adhere to timelines are arduously
protected. Just to give an example, a made–to–order shirt was not delivered on
schedule. It was not the fault of the store but of the courier service. When
complained, the store sent a replacement. A day later the original dispatch
reached me. I called the store to inform that I would pay for it. The store
said it was not necessary; I could keep it. It was in a way a reparation the
store paid for the delay. Supermarkets like Costco accept return of
goods purchased even if they are used a few times.
Fastidious vegetarians like me need have no apprehensions about meat
contamination in made–to–order snacks in wayside Subway or Dunkin’
Donut franchises. The suppliers wear fresh gloves for making each order. I
was informed that all American food outlets and ice-cream parlours throw away
any leftovers when they close for the night.
An important aspect of American civic life is how people of diverse
cultural backgrounds and ethnicities live in perfect harmony. The weekly house
cleaner who visited my bro–in–law’s place and the plumber were Mexican
immigrants; both were over seventy. A taxi driver whom we engaged to go from Philadelphia
airport to our home in Bear (Delaware) forty miles away was a
Bangladeshi. A convenience store attached to a gasoline station was run by a Sardarji
who was more at ease in Hindi than English. A pest control company engaged to
cleanse bed bugs sent in an African–American technician. The fumigation had to
be done at 1500 F (500C). He did his job without a
whimper; accepted the $50 tip with a grin and left.
Our travels took us to several places in the Bay area in California;
from Dallas through Austin and Houston to Corpus Christi in Texas; and in the
East Coast to places like Virginia, New Jersey, New York, Washington DC and up
to Niagara on the Canadian border. We have seen everywhere White Americans,
Hispanics, African–Americans and Indians—all working in tandem; cordially
interacting with each other and going about their jobs. If there was any
racism we didn’t sense it.
There is a quaint American way for begging too. The beggars don’t waylay
public but silently sit on the sidewalks with a placard stuck out reading “Am
homeless. Please help”.
It is not to say there is no crime. We were told New York subways were
not safe at night when they are taken over by derelicts and drug addicts.
From what we saw and heard the law enforcement officers were even–handed
and did not discriminate between one ethnicity and another. If there were any
exceptions, it was because the police knew in advance the person sought to be
detained had or suspected to have had a history of crime.
We did have brushes with the law enforcement officers twice and on both
occasions the officers were polite and sought to resolve issues with palpable
empathy. The first time we had a problem was with the immigration authorities
in San Francisco. I could not fill in the “Address of Local Residence” column in
the immigration form as I did not know it. I explained to the officer that my
daughter was coming to the airport to pick me up. He said that that was not
enough. They could not allow an immigrant who “did not have a place of stay”, to
enter the United States. We did not know what to do. Finally he relented and
said as it was our first visit he was allowing us; stamped our passports and
warmly welcomed us.
The second incident took place in Bear, Delaware. Wanting to call
India I dialed +91 without prefixing it with the ISD code 011. Even though it
was not exactly a correct dial, the system “automatically corrected” it—to
discomfit me as it turned out—and dialed the US emergency code 911. There was
an answer from the other side before I could disconnect the call. No matter.
The system took over. In a few minutes two carloads of hefty policemen with wireless
sets and guns hanging from their belts descended on the house. When I answered
the bell the lead officer politely asked me whether I dialed 911. I said I did.
With an apology I explained that I was trying to call India and instead of the
code +91 must have dialed 911 by mistake. He asked me if I was sure everything
was okay. I assured him that there was no problem. He accepted the apology and
explanation; said it was okay and went away.
I visited the USA twice, in 2017 and 2019. In the time I was there I
hadn’t seen a hint of racism—unless the whole nation was pretending. What
happened then in the last couple of weeks? Why is the whole nation on the boil?
This article was originally published in TheTime Of India Blogs.
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