Driving in America extract from Bison Letters (2009)

In 2009 K my partner and I lived in the US for three months - I was there to try to finish writing my PhD but after a counselling session with Rev Anne the Episcaple minister, I decided that probably due to my acute dyslexia I just could not put things in a way that the academic world would be able to accept. Rev A told me my shoulders dropped by 2 inches at the thought of  stopping doing it. She found me a loverly guy called Harry P who took me fishing for steelhead in the wild river Rouge for some of the time there. I did write - some short reflections about my time there and American culture.  I have always been entertained by Gerhard Keller and his tails from Lake Woebegone and Jerom K Jerom's tale Three Men in a Boat  and tried to catch something of this in these short pieces, failing as much as I flailed in the US culture.

Extract from A slice of American Pie – from the time I spent in Ashland Oregon USA

 

Driving in the USA

 

As a part of the whole new culture thing I have of course been driving whilst in this the New World – a doubtful title since there was a world here way before Columbus landed and found it – well had it ever been lost in the first place. But I digress because I have been learning to drive all over again and it has not been easy. There have really only been two times when I have inadvertently set off up the wronged side of the road at traffic lights – the first time this happened I was so concentrating on catching my equilibrium following my passengers shout – well yell would be better to describe the sound that emitted from her. The second time brought only a start from her – but being a little more use to the mechanics of the car – steering and such that I was occasioned to have to pleasure of looking into the horrified face of the driver in my path. I immediately realised my mistake and with a cherry wave of friendship or perhaps vague apology I put pedal to the metal and roared off with out waiting to see which this essentially friendly gesture was taken as. Fortunately the local constabulary have not yet had occasion to accost me for traffic violations. I am told that as such they can result in one being taken to the local clink – the jail house – and being incarcerated until a bail bond can be placed for you. This I am given to believe is the main reason to belong to AAA – not I assure you a mistake but the Automobile Association of American – a sort of copy of our AA. I have contacted them, and they tell me that they will honour my English membership. I have no idea of finding out if this extends to the non existent post of a bail bond.

I hesitate to write much more as it sees to be tempting fate to do so and whilst only believing in the ONE GOD one still should not tempt even he. But driving here is not so bad, well that’s not totally true because it is very bad – other people drive up the wrong side of the road – in fact hey drive up the middle of the road, cut corners, and turn right at a red stop sign – the last of these is actually allowed if your way is clear, but it does not stop cars from still going even if you are heading straight at them. They pull out, don’t use their indicators – don’t know what they are, usually stop at a zebra crossing (I am told that this is only an Oregen thing though it does not happen else were) which is a hazard if you are a pedestrian not so much if you are a driver – excepting that if you are a good driver then you are always stopping. But all of this does not so much mater because you can only drive at 25 miles per hour – so everything is going on so slowly that it does not matter you have time to do the same your self.

I actually ventured onto the freeway the other day – set of south instead of north and had to nearly go down to California before I could find a turn around. I was minded of that bit in the Matrix when Morphius tell Trinity to go to the freeway and she says that he had always said the freeway was suicide – his reply was my one hope – that he (Morphius) hoped that he was wrong. I am still here and this is not going to turn into a begging letter to cover the cost of my bail bond _ I have AAA for that now – but who of us knows the future.

 

We have been trying to work out what happens to the poor old people here – that is the POOR old people those who are poor not just the sad ones. Most of the one’s we have met are in their words not rich but comfortable – I was more interested in those who have no health insurance and depended on welfare. Ashland is a well-off place it is not poor but there are the poor here. They are called trailer trash and live on the outskirts of Medford. Trailers are sometimes big caravans sometimes mobile homes, there seems to be some sort of state care – this week I went out on the meals on wheels run and we took food to some of the trailer trash homes that are in Ashland. But there is no knowledge of what happens to those who have early onset Alzheimer’s or are too poor to even afford a trailer. These are the real hidden poor who may not even have family to provide for them. There are the evangelical churches that will help, and saying the right words – the pray of commitment as it is called – will allow a feed at a food distribution centre.

There is great friendship – great openness and welcome freedom and liberty here but I still wonder what the dark underbelly is like?

 

C Rowberry (July 2009)