America to me existed in the songs of Paul Simon, architecture of Frank Lloyd Wright and films of Steven Spielberg. I wanted to listen to the sounds that silence made here, meet Mrs. Robinson living next door and watch people playing guitar in the streets.
I found none here or you may say that I was a dreamer..
Little did I know that dreams get over when the night passes away and all that's left of them is a set of hazy images!
I have been in America for a week now, my first. There's a lot of silence but no sounds that excite me, I do not know who lives next door, upto the next mile and have heard no one singing 'Yellow Submarine' even on the radio !!
There's no indian food or should I say that there's no food worth eating, unless ofcourse, you can swear by the taste of a mac burger.
Welcome to the most powerful democracy of the world. Grin and bear it, options are few and far.. (do I sound like Agastya in English August ?)
They tell me (I am still catching up, you know) that Detroit is midwest country and thus there are no Meg Ryans here, nor any Tom Cruises. People weigh as much as a family in India and eat almost as much. A mushroom resembles a potato and a potato, a pumpkin. (thank god I haven't seen a pumpkin as yet) and before anyone sings praises of the agricultural advancements of the place, let me tell you, they all taste weird. Nothing close to what they are supposed to taste like !
There are no STD, PCOs (and believe me they are a gift of India to the world), no buses who stop at the wave of your hand (the closest is an 18 wheeler by Diamler Chryshler corp.) and absolutely no disorder. Infact most of the time I feel that I am in a hospital, the order here is so clinical.
Do I see a smile on the faces of those of you who've 'been here and done that' or are you already reaching for the escape button?
Cricket is a dream, soccer non existant and the american version of both of them, not my cup of tea. (that takes care of my professing to be a sports buff)
I'll will take a break as I need to go to the toilet, oops rest room (see I'm already learning :-)
P.S. I wrote this back in 2000 when I was had just arrived in the US. It makes interesting reading 'cause a lot of this stuff sounds puerile now. Some friends even call it the "rants of a FOB!"
