The easiest way to become a nice person

The easiest way to become a nice person is to move to American South.  When you moved to the South, you are automatically became “Sweetie”, or “Honey”… or “Hon”.  That is how people call each other here and how they call you.  Everyone, your neighbor, a lady at parking service, salesperson at the supermarket you see for the first time.  At the beginning, it’s quite strange and even shocking – “Do I know her?”  I always asked myself when I heard again that I was “honey”.  “Does she knows me? “ Obviously not, if she calls me this way).  Yes, it sounds strange, especially when you moved from the big city of Moscow.  In Moscow, you are lucky enough to get to your way through morning subway crowd without any bruises.  And clearly, to hear something like “Move your ass – you sleeping or what?” –  sounds as normal as “Good morning, dear friend”.   In the American South it is different.  People smile without a big reason.  I don’t know how sincere people are, and I assume that they can’t be sincere simply because they don’t know me, but anyway, that friendliness, even if it is superficial is still shocking.  Southerners simply pushed me into a corner with all theirs “Hons” and “Sweets” and I didn’t know how to react.  I remember, during our first month in Atlanta, my daughter and I went to Macy’s, and my daughter tried few dresses at the fitting room.  The sale lady was jumping around her and asked what else she could bring to her.  When she saw my daughter in a dress, she applauded and almost cried “Oh-She is So adorable!”.  My daughter gave me a look and asked in Russian: “Is she teasing me?”  “No,”- I said –“I think she is just like that”. But honestly saying we both were little bit surprised with such warmth.

After three months in the South, we flew to New York for a week.   I remember the first day in a little Manhattan food shop. We were staying in line to buy some groceries.  A tall man moved around and accidently pushed me out of the line when he was passing me.  I turned to him with already prepared smile anticipating millions sweet apologies, but instead I got loud and irritable: “Can’t you see! You are in my way!”- and he progressed on without even feeling guilty.  My daughter and I looked at each other…and smiled.  He was rude, it’s true, but, finally, we felt at home.

P.S..  During my recent trip to Charleston to my friend wedding, my counterparts (other bridesmaids, Southern girls) shared with me few tips about True Southern culture.  I’ll share it with you in my next post…