Of courtesies and etiquettes – US versus Us
America never ceases to impress me. Every visit adds to my kitty of lovely memories that I cherish and love to share.
Standing in a queue for returns in a store in the city of Lodi in California to return a shirt, turned out to be a unique experience. What impressed me was that everybody waited so patiently in the queue. Nobody tried to jump the line, jostle or thump feet impatiently like it is often done back home in India.
On my turn, the girl at the counter greeted me with a broad smile and a sweet ‘Hi’. She took the shirt and the cash memo from me and leaving the counter motioned me to follow her to the aisle where the shirts of the same brand were stacked neatly. She helped me with my choice and hurried back towards the counter with me in tow. She printed a new memo, stapled it to the old one which I had given to her and gave it to me with some coins. Since it had been an exchange and I had picked up the shirt of the same brand and size in return, I returned the 11 cents, thinking she had made a mistake. She gave me a sunny smile said, “These are the surplus you paid at our branch in Stockton from where you bought the shirt. Stockton has higher taxes than Lodi.” She wished me a nice day before turning to attend to the next customer.
All this time when she was attending to me not a whimper was heard from the people waiting patiently in the queue. My not-so-fair skin and the heavily accented English I spoke did not make me a less valued customer at one of the most prestigious chain of stores in the United States.
The pleasant experience reminded me of an unpleasant incident in Amritsar when I, detecting a large tear in my newly bought chiffon saree had gone back to the saree shop at Katra Jaimal Singh to get it exchanged. The mild-mannered, sweet-talking shopkeeper who had been calling me a sister and imploring me to treat the shop as my own besides forcing the coke down my not-so-parched throat a few hours ago transformed into an ill-mannered and loud person.
On hearing my complaint, he refused to recognise me and looked at me as though I were an alien. He raised his voice to tell me that never had he sold anything to anybody without getting it checked thoroughly and that was why his was one of the most-sought-after shop in the saree bazaar. Eating a humble pie and feeling humiliated, I had no other option but to leave clutching at the saree.
A Kashmiri darner did a fine job and made it wearable. But whenever I wore the saree, its soothing green colour and the fine texture would, instead of making me feel nice and happy, prick my conscience. I would be reminded of the unpleasant incident.
Such is the difference etiquettes and courtesies can make.
MY NOTSOFAIR SKIN AND THE HEAVILY ACCENTED ENGLISH I SPOKE DID NOT MAKE ME A LESS VALUED CUSTOMER AT ONE OF THE MOST PRESTIGIOUS CHAIN OF STORES IN THE UNITED STATES