The
USA is not a country: it's a continent. Many people, especially
in the UK, assume America has a homogeneity that simply doesn't
exist.
The America presented to the world via popular culture is sunny,
clean, Caifornian, obsessed with shopping malls and superficiality,
overweight and overtly moral, even if the results of that morality
causes massive human fallout in other parts of the world.
And all the stereotypes exist: the bumbling bibbed farmer with wispy
beard in a beaten-up pick-up; the massively overweight couple who
could simply not attain or maintain that size in any other country
apart from the US; the loony Southern Baptist who is convinced that
his is the Right God, and that believers in other religions, especially
Moslems, should be converted, by force if necessary (!). They're
all there.
But it's not all the same. Imagine each state as a separate country,
with it's own character, and you won't be far off. But they do all
speak (roughly) the same language (which is not "English",
by the way).
I've been reading some back copies of "Leica" magazine
recently from the 1950s and a European traveller of that time to
the US was bemoaning the ridiculous and arbitrary European frontier
trade and tourism barriers of the time compared with the freedoms
Americans had (and still have). Inter-state travel, commerce and
migration is simple and economically friction-free. Even in post-Schengen
2008 Europe, especially the UK, still has huge and entirely unnecessary
cross-border controls. And of course the language barrier prevents
any meaningful economic migration. Europe is creeping towards a
friction-free internal market but the language barrier will always
mean it comes a poor second to the USA, or indeed China or India.
Illinois is a state right in the middle, in an
area called "The MidWest". It's not "Old America"
(New England), but was settled following a few Indian massacres
no one talks about any more, during the 17th and 18th Centuries
by a mixture of Europeans seeking space, land, religious freedom
and a better life. It's the size of England and has a smilar spread
of local characteristics.
Chicago is metropolitan, Yuppie lakeside, stainless
steel and glass skyscrapers, wannabe New York, and inescapably borderline
rust-belt, especially the Southern Chicago industrial agglomeration
which continues pretty much unbroken all the way around the bottom
of Lake Michigan to Gary, Indiana and beyond.
All the way, in fact, to Michigan, where at last it peters out into
woods and small farming communities peopled by the descendants of
dour Protestant Dutch farmers. Hence the preponderance of white-painted
churches in the Dutch colonial style.
Central and Western Illinois is John Deere farming
country: mainly maize (they call it corn)
with hogs (that's pigs to
us Brits) living off the discarded husks.
It's hugely flat, to a degree unknown in the UK, even in Norfolk.
Parts of France South of Paris come the closest I've seen, and French
influence is strong in the MidWest, espcially around Detroit. The
fields are multiples of a mile square, to accommodate highly mechanised
agriculture performed increasingly commonly by contractors, who
sweep across the country like huge, mechanised locusts, to sow or
harvest. The square-mile grid system was instituted in the 1800s
and due to the curve of the earth, every few miles the fields are
not quite a mile square and the roads don't quite line up. So the
earth really isn't flat.
No hedgerows means few signs of wildlife; the silence can be deafening.
A non-fence mentality prevails: nothing is fenced: not fields, not
gardens, not roads, not railroads
(railways to us Brits).
This would add up to many train fatalities were it not for the fact
that the trains never run at more than 40mph and there are no corners
on the tracks, so you can see one coming for 10-15 miles away, giving
even an arthiritic tortoise an even chance of escape.
But many Americans are killed each year on level crossings due to
the stupidity of automatic transmissions making it impossible to
crank a stalled car off a level crossing using the starter motor.
Many minor roads run unbroken and straight for hundreds of miles,
broken only by occasional jarring bumps presaging Stop signs (to
awaken sleeping drivers who haven't turned the wheel in 8 hours),
small farming communities consisting entirely of men in John Deere
baseball hats, and huge, looming grain elevators looking like stranded
spaceships.
Every Stop sign has buckshot marks.
Every small bar has a Pabst Blue Ribbon illuminated sign outside
and 50 pickups: everyone drinks beer from the bottle.
The beer comes universally from Milwaukee, Wisconsin and is weak,
extremely gassy and sufficiently cold (reinforced by glasses held
in a freezer) to prevent any remaining possibility of taste from
activating the taste buds.
This is the real MidWest.
Further South the accent changes, racial attitudes
harden, poor black people and denim dungarees are more evident.
Northern Illinois looks down on Southern Illinois, and yet the State
Capital (Springfield) is in the South.
I never understood the State Capital thing: Springfield is relatively
small, compared to the giant that is Chicago. Why isn't Chicago
the State Capital?
The whole state resounds with weird names: from
Moline in the North to Mechanicsburg in the South, via Normal in
the middle, the encroaching pioneers in the 18th Century simply
ran out of European names in the vastness and, I suspect, started
making them up after boozy hoedowns...
"Hey, Jed, you got one o' them newfangled ploughs, ain't ya?
That makes you a mechanic, and where you live, this one horse town,
we can call it Mechanicsburg, 'cos none of us can think of any better
names......"
Only in the States is the infrastructure suited
to being vastly overweight.
American cars are available with bench seats, so an individual who
would simply not be able to reach the gearstick or the handbrake
in a European car can effortlessly slide in as far as necessary:
the steering wheel even raises out of the way to accommodate girths
of such huge proportions.
Everything is larger: shop doors, car doors, escalators, lifts,
house doors, baths, toilet seats. The whole country is designed
around large people.
The concept of a highly mobile internal labour
market has underpinned the American economic powerhouse in a way
that can never be repeated in Europe due to the different languages.
Theoretically, I could go and work in France or Germany with no
Work Permit necessary, but in practice I don't speak French or German
well enough to get, or to hold down, a job there, nor do my family
speak either of these languages at all.
America speaks the same language from coast to coast and this eases
the transition of a worker from, say, a MidWest rustbelt job in
Gary, Indiana, to a new start in Utah.
Generations of this mobility have resulted in a
thoroughly mixed-up gene pool and an element of rootlessness.
Few Americans live anywhere near their forebears and this results
in a huge demand for internal travel at Public holiday time.
The rootlessness causes great interest in genealogy: "where
did my forebears come from?", to an extent never matched by
Europeans.
Americans especially prize an English or Irish connection a few
generations back which gives them an excuse to "go visit the
Old Country", where they rediscover all the reasons their forebears
left in the first place: repressive governments, religious persecution,
poverty, racism, high taxation, and a lack of decent plumbing.
American plumbing is the best in the world: the
showers are hot and strong, there is always plenty of hot water,
the cold tap is always on the right, the loos are
clean and flush with plenty of water, the baths are long enough
(although not always deep enough), the shower stays at the same
temperature all the time without suddenly scalding or freezing you,
you can flush the loo paper down the loo without blocking up the
drains, they have TVs in the bathrooms, having 2 sinks in a bathroom
is not considered the mark of a lunatic, there is always a plug
and it always fits, and you can swing a cat in the bathroom.
Many of the above rarely apply in any other country.
In Heaven the plumbing is designed by Americans (and in hell, by
the French.....)
But American cars are universally crap.
I reckon I've driven representative vehicles from all major US and
"home grown import" manufacturers, and they're universally
dreadful.
No wonder the discerning American drives a BMW or a Merc: after
30 years of serious imports the US auto industry still can't design,
or build, a car that can hold a match to a German vehicle.
The suspension is of the "boulevard ride" type, so you
get seasick, the steering bears little relationship to what the
front wheels are doing and has half a turn of slack around the midpoint,
the brakes are dead to the foot, the tyres scream and let go at
the first sign of a turn, the interior space inefficiency is enough
to make Alex Issigonis turn in his grave (a car the size of Nessa's
Volvo estate has room for 2 people, two children (just) and a golf
bag in the boot if you're lucky).
And the predilection for automatics doesn't help: automatics are
simply dangerous and unsophisticated.
You can't stop smoothly, you can't change gear quickly or smoothly,
you can't start the car without flashing your reversing lights,
you have no engine braking so you wear your brakes out and you can't
control the car on icy roads, the box shifts just as you've got
the car set up for a corner and one end or t'other lets go.......
I could go on. But they should be Banned.
What I can't understand is that the US has the
best road system in the world, the worst cars, and some of the worst
drivers, and the lowest speed limts in the civilised world.
For years you could drive faster in Poland than in many US states.
Only Montana (where they have removed, like Germany, the upper limit
entirely), has a shred of common sense.
I can't help thinking the weather in the US
is more interesting than in the UK. They have greater extremes: more
wind, more cold, more hot and more weird. I saw a thunder-snowstorm
one night; you don't get these in Oxford! And one afternoon, descending
into Chicago O'Hare, the cloud was flat and all-encompassing below
us in the late afternoon light; all except one interruption. The John
Hancock Tower stood up right through the cloud, the only sign of land
for hundreds of miles in all directions. Beautiful. |