The Middle East and the US are two regions people think they know well even before going there. My wife was saying the other day how nice it was that we've lived in both and been able to see for ourselves that these places are far more nuanced than popular perception allows them.
But if there's anything I struggled with in America, it's certain kind of social interaction; one where there's a bigness of manner, a willingness to play up reactions in a way that comes across as fake to people from other cultures.
When eavesdropping in public (as I often do), I'm struck by how many conversations between American strangers are about nothing at all, or at least, things that really don't need to be said. There's an amazing ability to commentate on events both parties can see, or to relay thoughts and feelings in real time.
I now understand this a little more, having found parallels I can relate to.
Think about someone who tells funny stories that are often not quite the truth. It's part of a social compact that we allow him some embellishment without calling him a liar, in exchange for entertainment.
In the same way, rather than outright fakeness, American conviviality is a contract between people. It's an understanding that interacting in an extroverted society is a relaxing thing and so the participants find ways to prolong it and make it as smooth as possible. And yes, often as loud as possible. Americans who don't know each other, talk at incredible volumes, almost as if saying: "This person isn't a friend, so this is a public conversation, so you're welcome to join in." Indeed, other strangers often freely drop into these conversations without causing any discomfiture.
And just as we all have a walk-in closet of masks we don for different social occasions, this openness is, when you think about it, a particularly impenetrable mask. Americans are masters at covering up awkwardness or gaucheness by talking about it, drawing your attention to it and leaving you totally disarmed. It's a privacy of openness, in a way. Perhaps the most fascinating example of this is: "I want to say…".
Let's pretend you've just been asked what the white of an egg is called. The word doesn't come to you, but the word for another part of the egg does. So you say, "I want to say ‘yolk'? But I know that's not right."
Quite an education
For someone who's often awkward around people, and sometimes thrown by the social terrain we must negotiate, this is all quite an education. A lesson titled, ‘How to maintain composure by keeping everybody in the loop'.
Sometimes though, keeping people in the loop goes a little too far. Or so it seems to me. I remember one overheard conversation between a young couple and an older one who'd just met in a queue. The talk flowed, largely about good places to eat. At one point, the younger man started talking about his sister who was clinically depressed and was found drowned in a bathtub. It was astonishingly private information that was delivered quite loudly and didn't seem to make the older couple uncomfortable at all. Similarly, I've heard people talk freely to strangers about embarrassing (you'd think) surgeries, abusive parents and even jail terms.
But you know what? These are moments I now look forward to when I'm out on buses or trains in the city. It's lovely to watch two strangers connect so effortlessly and these days I smile happily to myself as I listen. Maybe one day I'll join in.
Gautam Raja is a journalist based in the US.
