Coming to America- Start of a Lifelong Journey...

Currently, an old friend of mine from New Delhi is visiting US for a few months on a teacher exchange program. Her spontaneous, yet uncannily familiar reactions to an almost diametrically different cultural environment made me chuckle while bringing back memories of my own initial impressions when I landed here on a cold winter day in February 87…

Looking back it seems almost surreal as to how, despite all the research and talks with folks visiting from the US, I was quite unprepared for the different world that was my new home. I wrote many letters home to my mother and my friends which expressed wonder, humor, plain perplexity and true appreciation...In other words, the exchanges ran the entire gamut of emotions with respect to the India-US lifestyle differences..(Doing the tourist thing in downtown DC in the first few months with our dog, a jet black poodle mutt, Corky, who became my cherished companion in the days when I was essentially a stay-at-home bride newly arrived from Delhi)

The following is a humorous, somewhat tongue-in-cheek prototype of the conversations I had with my worried mother back home to allay her fears and to reassure her that her somewhat sheltered daughter was in fine fettle and well on her way to being acclimatized, not just on the weather front but on all levels… So read on...

Dear Mama,

This is a very interesting society completely contrary to ours where we leave strangers alone much less exchange pleasantries with them. Here in US, strangers on the street will greet you with a bright, “Hello, How are you?” and not mean a word of it because while you are formulating an answer, they have already moved on. So apparently, this is only a rhetorical question/statement to show politeness by acknowledging your existence on this planet. Needless to say, it is all quite unsettling. And mom, I know that back home, cops could be called if a strange man greeted a young woman or asked how she was doing, but here it is a sign of good etiquette and breeding. Formal introductions are not a necessity. So, there is no cause for alarm. It is all good. Now I too am getting comfortable and proactively greet strangers on the street, sometimes a tad exuberantly and sometimes cluelessly in areas where I should really keep walking, but not to worry a dirty look or angry glare is a good indicator that I too need to keep moving –and very fast!

Also mom, you taught us that it is modest to look down and not directly in someone’s face. Well, here you will be considered shady or shifty-eyed or something similar, if you don’t look someone straight in the eye while you are talking to them except I believe it is a fine line between not staring and just looking directly at the person. It is all an art that I am practicing on our dog, Corky.

And mama, you would love this country because folks here just do not ask personal questions like the ones our pesky neighbors ask back home. Remember how that nosy lady next door used to keep asking you so blatantly as to how much my brother was earning in his new job or why your marriageable age daughter was not settling fast enough in holy matrimony. Here mercifully, even a hint of such a personal questions would earn you a well-deserved MYOB, which simply means - Mind Your Own Business. I am telling you, these are good acronyms to add to your daily repertoire and I am not being facetious. Privacy is really cherished here as it should be.

On another social note, mama, this is an egalitarian society in the truest sense where informality reaches new heights-quite jarring initially due to our formal upbringing. It does not matter if you are only 10 years old and the addressee is 40 or 50 or even 80 years old, generally, almost everyone here is on first name basis-unless they are really from the old school, but that is truly rare. I shudder to imagine the dire consequences, if back home, I dared to drop the reverent "Uncle" and greeted our septuagenarian uncle Ram by his first name, you would go apoplectic, not to mention the outrage of the injured party! Here one's increasing years are not necessarily considered a hallmark of wisdom and experience and thereby worthy of overt respect. Everyone is a plain Tom, Dick, Harry, Mary and Jane. You get the drift... At my part-time job, other than the gentleman himself in his late 70s, who am convinced, secretly loves my addressing him as "Mr. Rooney", I think I may be getting on the nerves of my young co-workers who just call him by his first name, "Tom" and consider my respectful attitude borderline obsequiousness. And you know what mother, there maybe some merit in this American thinking, especially when we are the point of grasping at our fast fading youth. Seriously now, despite all the pep talk about aging gracefully, being called "Aunty" albeit respectfully, just cannot be flattering!!!! Manners certainly can be overrated at times. On the other hand, it was so convenient to just say "Aunty" and "Uncle" to the innumerable relatives whose names one could not recall at the huge once-a-year drama-ridden family affairs...

But, mama I am still recovering from the tea shock! When you ask for tea in US, you don’t get our kind of regular boiling hot tea, brewed in a tea kettle with sugar and milk on the side, rather what you get is a tea bag in warm water with a slice of lemon on the side and no milk! Yes you heard it right! Tepid water, lemon and no milk and sugar –yikes!!! I have learned my lesson and never waste money on tea in a restaurant, rather I have now converted my American-born friends to my own cuppa of tea. But God forbid, should anyone wanting a plain cup of black coffee be stuck behind me when I am painstakingly making my afternoon cup of tea at work, step-by-step at one of these new-fangled machines in the employee lounge. The loud groans say it all...

Remember how you used to constantly remark that our Delhi neighborhood was very noisy because there were constant streams of people outside our home at all hours. Well we don’t have any such problems here because one hardly sees people in this country unless one is in business or shopping areas. Getting used to the under-populated look does take a while. Silence certainly can be deafening! During the day when I am alone in our suburban home, there is not a soul in sight in the neighborhood and one barely sees any people on the streets other than one or two here and there. So,of course, sound pollution is not an issue and one can take many naps during the day… Needless to say, I am well-rested. A bit too much. (Many a solitary morning, I would sit outside my home with Corky and not see a soul in our neighborhood during the day...Not seeing people took some serious getting used to.)

Riding in the Metro is a real pleasure as the people are very polite to their fellow-passengers though I am ashamed to say, old habits die hard, and the first couple of times, I forgot that the DC Metro was not like the overcrowded Delhi's public bus where if you don't hustle and jostle to both get on and off the bus by shoving your way in sheer panic to the bus exit five stops in advance, you will never get off; the indifferent driver uncaring of his passengers packed like sardines barely stops in either situation. As you well know, personal dignity and daintiness have no place in India's public transportation. Similarly I too pushed my way to the front on the platform to board the Metro, till I got many well-deserved icy glares from the other patient commuters. Suitably chastened, I am a model citizen now-the nuns in my Catholic school back home would have been rightfully proud!

And mama, I have finally relearned how to drive here because in US, they don’t drive on the left side of the road like UK and India, but rather on the “wrong side.” Learning to drive has been nerve-wracking because I have had to condition my mind to remember that if I get in the left lane in US, then I am in deep trouble as that is indeed the fast lane where it almost suicidal to drive within the legal speed limit. But not to worry except for one scary episode when in my bemused state, I went headlong into the incoming traffic lane, now I am very skilled. Your prayers are working as I am alive to write this. In fact, we just celebrated my ability to drive on the beltway. I am however still mastering the almost life-threatening skill of changing lanes at 65 miles and more per hour, without swivelling my head 180 degrees to watch out for the speeding vehicles in that damn blind spot. But not to worry, I will be able to chauffeur you around when you visit if you will be brave enough to ride with me… (Yes only my dog was safe in the car with me in the initial months when I relearned how to drive US style.)

A couple of thing that bother me here mama is that this is a rather litigious society as everyone is worried about being sued by someone. This fear does somewhat stifle one’s creativity and general being to some extent. People will even sue a food restaurant if they spill hot coffee on themselves and here you would yell at us to take responsibility. Is this a great country or what!!!

Secondly, I had an amazing experience the other day when I went to a grocery store with an Indian friend. There her five year old son threw many tantrums and was just unbelievably out of control screaming and grabbing things in the aisles while this young mother, instead of taking him firmly out of the store, just kept placating rather pleading with him to behave. When I asked her about it later, I kid you not, she said that her firmness could be misconstrued by a spectator as child abuse and and she was petrified of losing her child… Wow!!! Imagine being held hostage by a screaming kindergartner!!! It makes me wonder if this could be one of the reasons, children here sometimes can be so brazenly fearless? Clearly the sort of discipline we were subjected to might be considered somewhat old-fashioned in this new world of fear on so many levels… I am still thinking this one through… (Finally settled, I would still wear my Sari every now and then to stay in touch with my cultural traditions and for the most part after two decades, I have been able to.)

But this is home now mama and I truly love it here as I have blended the two worlds to create an interesting culture of my own that has the best of both. And yes, I have insisted that folks learn to say my name, Raksha, correctly, though between you and me, I respond to anything that remotely sounds like it-for instance-Rasha, Rashka and even Russia-I do give credit for effort you know-but I have drawn the line at "Roxanne". In other words, I have adapted into the American mainstream while holding on dearly to my own identity…