Now is no time for games!
It’s been just over a month in the U.S. Raquel Henley is getting situated in the U.S.—kind of. There is no textbook for this transition, and my guess is everybody underestimates the scope of differences. She’s Filipina; she’s quiet. I introduce her to people, and she remains nearly silent, only speaking to respond. This is a hybrid of the prototypical Asian woman upbringing and her lingering fear that her English will prove inferior and humiliating.
She’s smarter than I am. She speaks three languages. Languages are hard…and very complex. There are a lot of things I do (we do) that are highly complex activities. We take them for granted throughout our lives. If you can learn to see things from an outside perspective, well, that is helpful. You can never completely disassociate yourself from your own experience, though.
Seeing the world through Ms. Raqueline’s perspective, I’ve come to learn how different and special this place is. At the beginning of the month, we were in Denton at a reception. The reception offered horderves…er, hors d’ovres, ummm…appetizers. We started with a fruit plate. I offered her a slice of pineapple. She demurred. Then she pointed to the cantaloupe and said, “…and what is this?” She liked it. She also liked the strawberry I added to her plate. In fact, the entire buffet consisted of foods she did not know, let alone anything she had eaten. I’ve never considered a life without strawberries…or BBQ…or tacos. People live like that?? She baked her first cake (ovens are uncommon). She uses coupons, had job interviews (scary!), and started a new job today. Everything is new, it seems.
One key change for Raq involves automobiles. Raq rides a motorcycle back in the Philippines. No license required. It makes sense, when you think about it. You go from a bicycle to a motorcycle…and then maybe a car. The average “salary” for a Filipino is about $2500. An automobile purchase is akin to buying a house in the U.S.
Part of car ownership is purchasing gasoline. This is a second-nature, almost intrinsic activity for Americans. Not so much in the Philippines. Over there, you pull in and tell some worker how much to put into the tank (usually a litre or two for a motorcycle). “I want you to put the gas in the car. I’m going to grab a Diet Coke. Here’s the card. Our ZIP code is 79564.”
OK, I knew that wouldn’t work on its own. I was trying to force a learning experience on this poor woman. I’m still not sure if it worked. When I returned, she was standing near the minivan and smiling. No gas had left the pump. So I helped her through this simple, easy, no-brainer process like the incredible educator I am:
1. Insert your card. There, in that slot. Yes. That’s where it goes. No, the magnetic…er, brown stripe needs to be down and to the right, like the picture. Like this.
2. OK…but you have to pull it back out right away. Let’s do that again.
3. (Repeat Steps 1 & 2)
4. Now you put in our ZIP Code (note to self: tell her what a ZIP Code is). 7-5-9-6-4…OK now push “Enter.” It’s over here—the green button on the bottom right.
5. OK…now it’s processing. While it’s doing that, you lift the pump handle. Yes, you lift it up. Oh! First, you need to open the little door over here. Then youuuu un-screww this cap, and…bring the pump here and put it into the tank. Just bring it over, love…OK, good. Put it there, in that small hole inside the larger hole. [By this point, I’m feeling sheepish.]
6. Yeah…that’s good, but you need to choose the type of gas you want. We always get the cheapest kind…the 87…no, you just push the yellow button. The left side. Closest to us. Yeah. That one. Wait…the hose pushed the 93 octane expensive kind. That’s 50 cents a gallon more. No. Just…No.
7. (Repeat Steps 1-2 and 4-7, taking care to keep the hose away from all yellow buttons.)
8. Good. Gas is going in. Now, if you push this little lever underneath here, you don’t have to hold it the whole time you pump. Yeah, I guess that notch works. Good job.
9. Five gallons. See the bottom one. The top one is how much; the bottom one is…well, how much…gas is going in. The top one is the cost, I guess. OK. Stop. Just squeeze the pump. No. You squeeze it and the little lever-thing releases…er, lets go. (Demonstrate)
10. Now you put the pump back in the slot where it came from. No. Just put it back. It has a flap that turns off the pump. Just…yeah. There.
11. Now we wait for the receipt. Oh, and we need to put the cap back on and close this little door back. OK. Just pull on it. Yank on it. Harder. Good.
12. We’re done!
Easy, right?
I'm not even going to try getting gas at Kroger yet. That's a whole other process with the discount card. Ugh.
It’s one thing to move from, say, England to the U.S. (or Canada…or even a place like Germany). Pumping gas is a part of life there, too. It’s what life is like when people can afford cars. There are places people come from that are far different. Pretty much the only thing we have in common is that we are both from Planet Earth (and some English).
Such a brave woman to come here. If you haven’t met her yet, just know she starts every morning rocked back on her heels and regains her balance throughout the day. It’s fantastic to watch. I just need to keep my ethno-centric assumptions from ruining these discoveries she’s having—not just every day, but every hour.
