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Apr. 2nd, 2007 10:01 amOne day I will publish a collection of short articles entitled Incidences of Mental Editorialising Prompted By Queueing Up At US Immigration. Except maybe I shouldn't, because of course I get irrationally vitriolic inside my head post-long-haul, but I think the cnclusion I reached this time round was that while I like America - I like the people (my friends and relatives over here are among the loveliest people I know) I like the landscapes and architecture, I like banoffee pie, I like cinnamon-flavoured sweets - what I don't like is how gauche and graceless it can be. More than that, I don't like those moments that I find just viscerally disturbing about the place: witness the frantic mother lifting the crying five-year-old up to be fingerprinted below the sign saying "Welcome to the United States of America", not to mention the immigration officials wandering around with guns.
Enough of that. I am in the States, and am very happy to be here. I went to Heathrow yesterday with an entourage - I patiently endured my mother and Mani's parents telling me not to lose my passport and not to go off with a stranger, but was slightly less patient when they were so busy bickering about how Life Was Better In The Old Days days to notice that I was, er, leaving the country - and settled myself on the most horrific flight known to humankind. I was sat next to a pair of stereotypical middle Englanders, reading the Sunday Torygraph and vocally agreeing with most of it, and eventually I ended up giggling helplessly to myself because I fitted into every category: the nasty darkies don't appreciate a good Christian education (check), mealy-mouthed liberals sending Britain to the dogs (check), nasty queers ruining moral fibre (check), Oxford-educated intellectual snobs don't have a clue about Real Life (check), the BBC are dumbing down their current affairs programmes (check), heathens building Hindu temples in London (check). Oh, dear me, why do I even exist?
That said, the amusement palled after six hours of this, and the flight was two hours late, as well. But I walked out of customs at JFK to find Munna and Shweta, two of my cousins, waiting for me, and it was so lovely to see them. They live about two hours out of NYC in a small town in Connecticut, which is very pretty, for all I've seen of it; I woke up this morning at half seven, which is half past twelve BST and thus all is well in the world; I'm listening to I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue and answering comments bit by bit.
Um. That's it for a bit, I guess. I have internet, do email me. (And,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amchau, I'm sorry, but there might be a bit of a dent in your phone bill! I got that last message of yours just as I was strolling into JFK, unfortunately.) And I need to confirm arrangements for the end of the work, as to when I'm arriving in NYC and such, and I will. But right now being very lazy is probably in order.
Enough of that. I am in the States, and am very happy to be here. I went to Heathrow yesterday with an entourage - I patiently endured my mother and Mani's parents telling me not to lose my passport and not to go off with a stranger, but was slightly less patient when they were so busy bickering about how Life Was Better In The Old Days days to notice that I was, er, leaving the country - and settled myself on the most horrific flight known to humankind. I was sat next to a pair of stereotypical middle Englanders, reading the Sunday Torygraph and vocally agreeing with most of it, and eventually I ended up giggling helplessly to myself because I fitted into every category: the nasty darkies don't appreciate a good Christian education (check), mealy-mouthed liberals sending Britain to the dogs (check), nasty queers ruining moral fibre (check), Oxford-educated intellectual snobs don't have a clue about Real Life (check), the BBC are dumbing down their current affairs programmes (check), heathens building Hindu temples in London (check). Oh, dear me, why do I even exist?
That said, the amusement palled after six hours of this, and the flight was two hours late, as well. But I walked out of customs at JFK to find Munna and Shweta, two of my cousins, waiting for me, and it was so lovely to see them. They live about two hours out of NYC in a small town in Connecticut, which is very pretty, for all I've seen of it; I woke up this morning at half seven, which is half past twelve BST and thus all is well in the world; I'm listening to I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue and answering comments bit by bit.
Um. That's it for a bit, I guess. I have internet, do email me. (And,
amchau, I'm sorry, but there might be a bit of a dent in your phone bill! I got that last message of yours just as I was strolling into JFK, unfortunately.) And I need to confirm arrangements for the end of the work, as to when I'm arriving in NYC and such, and I will. But right now being very lazy is probably in order.