“How’s it going?” I ask the barista[i]). “How’s your day been?”

“Ah, not too busy. What are you up to?”

“Not much. Just reading.”

This, I have learned, is one of the key rituals of American life. It has taken me only a decade to master.

I immigrated to the United States in 2001, for college. I brought only my Indian experience in dealing with shopkeepers and tea sellers. In Delhi, where I grew up, commerce is brusque[i]). You don’t ask each other how your day has been. You might not even smile. I’m not saying this is ideal—it’s how it is. You’re tied together by a transaction[ii]). The customer doesn’t tremble before complaining about how cold his food is. Each side believes the other will cheat him, and each remains alert[iii]). Tips are not required.

“God, Mahajan, you’re so rude to waiters!” Tom, an American friend, said, laughing, after he watched me ordering food at a restaurant, in theWestVillage, years ago. Considering myself a mild[i]) and friendly person, I was surprised. “You’re ingratiating[ii])!” I countered[iii]). Tom always asked servers how they were doing or complimented their shirts or cracked[iv]) jokes about the menu. At the time, this seemed intellectually dishonest to me. Did he really care what they were wearing? Wasn’t he just expressing his discomfort about being richer than the person serving him? If you did this little number[v]) with everyone, was it genuine[vi])? 

American life is based on a reassurance that we like one another but won’t violate[i]) one another’s privacies. This makes it a land of small talk. Two people greet each other happily, with friendliness, but might know each other for years before venturing[ii]) basic questions about each other’s backgrounds. The opposite is true of Indians. At least three people I’ve sat next to on planes to and fromIndiahave asked me, within minutes, how much I earn as a writer (only to turn away in disappointment when I tell them). 

So, for years in America, I would tremble when reporting to the front lines to order coffee. It felt like a performance. I had a thick accent and people didn’t understand me and I was ashamed and I fumbled[i]). I radiated[ii]) an uncertain energy; sometimes baristas sensed this and wouldn’t try to talk to me, and then an insecure voice in my head would cry, “He’s racist!” 

During these years in the small-talk confusion, I also wondered why Americans valued friendliness with commerce so much. Was handing over cash the sacred rite[i]) of American capitalism—and of American life? On a day that I don’t spend money inAmerica, I feel oddly depressed. It’s my main form of social interaction—as it is for millions of Americans who live alone or away from their families. 

Everything is subject to analysis until it becomes second nature to you. Living in Brooklyn and then in Austin, Texas, coffee shops became the loci[i]) of my movements. Meeting the same baristas day after day bred context, and I got practice. People no longer heard my name as “Kevin” or “Carmen”, though they still misheard “to go” as “to stay” and vice versa[ii]). I was beginning to assimilate[iii]). It felt good and didn’t seem fake anymore. 

Still, sometimes, when I make small talk at cash registers, I am reminded of a passage from a novel called “The Inscrutable[i]) Americans,” which was popular in India in the nineteen-nineties. In the opening of the book, the scion[ii]) of a hair-oil empire, Gopal, comes to the U.S. for college. When an immigration agent at J.F.K. asks, “How is it going?” Gopal replies the only way he knows:

I am telling him fully and frankly about all problems and hopes, even though you may feel that as American he may be too selfish to bother about decline in price of hair oil in Jajau town. But, brother, he is listening very quietly with eyes on me for ten minutes and then we are having friendly talk about nuts and he is wanting me to go. 

推荐阅读

美剧经典习语大盘点

英语四级没考好会影响到考研吗？

【职场英语】英文邮件就这么写！

【趣味英语】“壁咚”用英文怎么说？

【英语干货】学口语？弄懂这些就够了！

别再通过阅读来背单词了，2万＋的词汇量是这样积累的