So I have moved from Kolkata and I miss my city and I find myself in a village in the middle of nowhere(read Pennsylvania) in the big bad world of Amreeca. So I have now decided to chronicle my experience in this village and start a sub-blog. I wonder if I should change the name of the blog ??(HMMMMMM!!!)
Before I was coming over all my non-Amreeci Amreecan people(friends and family who lived in the U.S) gave me plenty of advice most(yes I said most) of which was useful in dealing with the culture shock. But no one prepared me for the literal shock I would get after landing in the country. The dry winter cold generates so much static that anything and everything shocks you, from car doors, to walmart carts, to PB2's faux-fur coat. And I have no idea why nobody warns against that.
Then I had this firm belief that I could go on talking in Bangla and no one around me would understand. It somehow made me feel I posses this superpower. Again, noone told me any better. From the cabbie, to the hotdog vendor, to the owner of the local Dunkin DoNut shop...everyone seems to know Bangali and are either from Bangladesh or Medinipur, specially in New York.
But the biggest shock I got about the above was right here in this Amreecan village. My cousin MSM and her husband SS had come the first weekend that I landed in the continent to help me settle in. So to celebrate my first weekend in the States SS, (based on my other cousin AB's suggestion)took all of us to this Carribean Restaurant called Bahama Breeze. We ordered a lavish dinner and was conversing away in Bangla. The bill finally came and while SS was calculating the tip MSM was telling me how in New York the servers will run after you if you do not tip properly. Our Bahama Breeze server, however was standing behind politely waiting for the cheque. After the bill was paid we walked out and was waiting in the waiting area for our cab. MSM and I were sitting in one corner while SS was standing by the door keeping a watch out for the cab. Our server suddenly comes and shows the bill to SS. MSM walks over to SS, puts her hand on her hips and asks SS in Bangla "Ki re ? New york er moton obosthya ? Beshi taka chay !! " (What is it? Do they want more tips like in New York?). To this SS replies that he had made some mistakes on calculating the tip also in Bangla. So MSM being the person she is turns to the server and explains to him in English that SS was too tired and therefore made a mistake. To this our server replied, in plain and simple Bangla " Kono somosyai noi. Erom to hoyei thake. " ( Do not worry. This is not a problem at all. We are used to things like this happening.)And this is what Amitabh Bacchan used to refer to as "Zor ka Jhatka, dhire se lage."
Before I was coming over all my non-Amreeci Amreecan people(friends and family who lived in the U.S) gave me plenty of advice most(yes I said most) of which was useful in dealing with the culture shock. But no one prepared me for the literal shock I would get after landing in the country. The dry winter cold generates so much static that anything and everything shocks you, from car doors, to walmart carts, to PB2's faux-fur coat. And I have no idea why nobody warns against that.
Then I had this firm belief that I could go on talking in Bangla and no one around me would understand. It somehow made me feel I posses this superpower. Again, noone told me any better. From the cabbie, to the hotdog vendor, to the owner of the local Dunkin DoNut shop...everyone seems to know Bangali and are either from Bangladesh or Medinipur, specially in New York.
But the biggest shock I got about the above was right here in this Amreecan village. My cousin MSM and her husband SS had come the first weekend that I landed in the continent to help me settle in. So to celebrate my first weekend in the States SS, (based on my other cousin AB's suggestion)took all of us to this Carribean Restaurant called Bahama Breeze. We ordered a lavish dinner and was conversing away in Bangla. The bill finally came and while SS was calculating the tip MSM was telling me how in New York the servers will run after you if you do not tip properly. Our Bahama Breeze server, however was standing behind politely waiting for the cheque. After the bill was paid we walked out and was waiting in the waiting area for our cab. MSM and I were sitting in one corner while SS was standing by the door keeping a watch out for the cab. Our server suddenly comes and shows the bill to SS. MSM walks over to SS, puts her hand on her hips and asks SS in Bangla "Ki re ? New york er moton obosthya ? Beshi taka chay !! " (What is it? Do they want more tips like in New York?). To this SS replies that he had made some mistakes on calculating the tip also in Bangla. So MSM being the person she is turns to the server and explains to him in English that SS was too tired and therefore made a mistake. To this our server replied, in plain and simple Bangla " Kono somosyai noi. Erom to hoyei thake. " ( Do not worry. This is not a problem at all. We are used to things like this happening.)And this is what Amitabh Bacchan used to refer to as "Zor ka Jhatka, dhire se lage."
