Opinion

Letter from America

From 1946 to 2004, British broadcast essayist Alistair Cooke aired a weekly essay from his adopted home in America.  For 58 years, listeners from around the world tuned their radios to BBC Radio 4 to hear Cooke’s slightly amused voice giving them his ex-pat take on everything from American holidays to the ways American English varies from British English, to major events in American history.  He captured America’s grief after John F. Kennedy was assassinated. Cooke was in the lobby of the Ambassador Hotel when Kennedy was shot and used scratch paper to scribble down his impressions of the chaos. His eyewitness account would become one of his most powerful reports.

He was brilliant at crafting character-driven stories about issues. His piece about John Lennon’s death segued neatly into an exploration of gun violence in America. He reported on the suicide of actress Jean Seberg and used the obituary as an opportunity to discuss the excesses of FBI surveillance and witch-hunting.

Cooke was a better reporter than a writer and he audibly sighed during some broadcasts, as if he was either tired or bored. But his point of view was priceless: an observant, charming outsider who fell in love with his adopted country, warts and all.

I’m reminded of this as I sit in New York penning my own mini Letter from America for Macau CLOSER.  What would I write I asked myself?  Should I mention my horrific US airport encounter when arriving first in Dallas?  A truly third world experience; hundreds queuing to get into yet further queues, those in transit muddled together with those getting out in Dallas, leading me to miss my connecting flight in spite of a four hour connecting time.

What about the filthy, airless subway journeys around Manhattan and witnessing the violent tussle of a handbag snatch with the robber getting away asthe carriage doors opened?  And playing hopscotch to avoid the dripping, stinking trash bags piled high on the pavements wherever one went.  Even on the famed 5th Avenue with their glamorous designer shops… the city’s sanitary services sure do need to take a long hard look at improving their systems.

What a culture shock coming from our comparatively orderly, safe and clean Macau and Hong Kong!

At every corner – no kidding, every corner – there are food stores and eating establishments serving vast portion sizes to equally vast diners.

We think our prices are high – well go have a meal, or buy some basic groceries in New York.  Prices are subject to a sales tax of over eight percent.  The same small can of Heinz baked beans that sells in my local Seng Cheong for MOP7.80 sells in New York for around MOP42.  A humble deli breakfast of two eggs, bacon, toast and coffee – HK$210.  At least double what we’d expect to pay here!  And that’s not including the ten percent service tip that is most definitely expected by your waiter.

All is not bad of course.  Buildings look caringly maintained. New York’s art galleries, museums and Broadway theatre shows are some of the best in the world.  Circling Central Park in an open top bus with a vivid blue sky background and bright sunshine was a memorable moment.  The quiet contemplation of those milling around the stunningly designed World Trade Centre 9/11 Memorial Plaza pools superbly captures the American spirit of innovation and resilience.

And most importantly, everywhere we go we find people with a warm countenance. I’d even go as far as to say that their cab drivers are more polite than our own, though that may not be saying much!  And passers-by are friendly and happy to stop and give advice to us tourists asking for directions or help with buying a travel card.

 

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