I did not expect to be culturally shocked in Cleveland. I had lived for five years away from home, and was misguided thinking I should not be expecting to have a culture shock. I was wrong. My first two months in Cleveland were tough. My first day was a series of encounters that left me at best wondering. I had trouble taking the bus, queuing in Starbucks, and standing in the street.

I guess my first- and maybe main- cause of discomfort and shock was how to behave around strangers, or rather, how strangers behaved around me. My university is towards the East, not so far from East of Cleveland, an economically troubled area. Every time I waited for my bus and a stranger approached and said hi and started asking where I’m heading to, where I work, and talked about the journey of their day my nerves were on edge. I never knew whether they were being friendly, or were intending mug me. It took me almost two months to figure it out.

During orientation sessions held to help international students understand the American way of life, one point has been repeatedly stressed: “Americans avoid asking strangers about religion, politics and sex, so they expect the same from you”, and I honestly find that statement very bizarre. I am still not sure what benchmark was used to compare Americans to, but one thing that I observed here was that many people I met felt at liberty of asking about all three of those. Some people told me this was specific to the “Mid-West”, while others said it was specific to certain ethnic groups. I don’t have an aswer.

While riding the bus people would ask  me where I came from, if I was from India, what my religion is, and discuss various “hot” topics of international politics they assume would be of interest to me. By now I feel fully accustomed to how things are here, and I no longer feel that uncomfortable talking to strangers. I can distinguish friendly people who want to talk about the agonies of their day from those who are waiting for a chance to runaway with my purse, I enjoy small talk with people heading to work and it amazes me how simple people here are. I still, though, kind of dislike hearing “where are you from”, and I am not sure exactly why.

People in Cleveland also surprised me in so many positive ways. People here are very generous. They invite you for meals, offer to get you coffee on their way and have no problems giving you a ride without splitting gas money even when gas was $4/gallon. The day I moved in, my next door neighbours were moving out, and they gave me their TV, and their air-conditioner, at no charge.

I think I came to Cleveland expecting to find Cardiff, and that’s why I was shocked. I found that every time I was surprised by something, it wasn’t because it was different than Bahrain, but because it was different than Cardiff. I think my subconscious established already that Cleveland should and would be different than Bahrain, and choose Cardiff for comparison. What’s amazing is that Cleveland has- I think- more in common with Bahrain.

It was a Saturday almost ten months ago. It was my first visit to downtown Cleveland.  I was bored and thought I can visit Tower City Center and do some window shopping. I took an almost empty train- known as the Rapid here- that dropped me right in the underground level of Tower City. I found my way up and for a second I wasn’t sure if this was the mall or just the train station.
It took me around 45 minutes to stroll down all floors. As I strolled down its corridors one thought preoccupied me: what is wrong with this place?  I found my way out to the street and glanced its exterior. The Architecture wasn’t it. What is wrong with this street despite the high risers, what makes it feel so- dead?

-“is there something that I’m missing?”  I heard a stranger behind me say. I turned, and it was a guy in his late twenties.
-“Pardon?”
-“Is there something about this building that I’m missing? Something that makes you look at it?”
-“I’m just new here. I’m wondering what makes this city what it is. What makes you feel a certain way about it”
-“It is Saturday you know”

Yes, it wass Saturday and the image of “downtown” on Saturday in my head was contrary to reality. I think part of my disorientation was because of my linking the word “downtown” to “town” in British English. Not exactly.  Cleveland’s downtown is not its shopping and nightlife center. Rather, its business center inhibited 9 to 5 weekdays and dead afterwards. Cleveland is one of many American cities that did not have a “town” in the British sense of the word.

Ten months on, I decided it’s time I made up my mind about how I feel towards this place.

Cleveland is hard to get used to, hard to feel you’re at home. The city is scattered, composed mainly of neighbourhoods miles apart. If you don’t drive, it’s almost impossible to get the real flavour  of the city. Most of the time you would actually forget you live in a city. It does not feel like one.  I thought again of my first impression of the city- what makes it feel so dead- and I think I now have an answer. The city does not have its people, not many people live here, not many people like living here.  Those whose work binds them to city live in suburbs outside Cleveland, in Lakewood and Westlake to the west, Cleveland Heights and Beachwood to the east.

While waiting for the bus
Stranger: hi
Me: hi
Stranger: you’re from a different country?
Me: yes
Stranger: where?
Me: I’m from the Middle East
Stranger: Which country?
Me: Bahrain.
Stranger: So if I told you to kiss me, you wouldn’t. Muslim women only kiss their husbands.
Me: If you told any other stranger to kiss you, she wouldn’t.
Stranger: If she was Christian she would smile.
Me : ** keeping quiet**
Stranger: Bahrain is where the prophet’s wife’s dress came from.
Me: Excuse me?
Stranger: The prophet’s wife, his youngest, Ayesha. The dress she wore when she married the prophet came from Bahrain, right? It was woven there.
Me: I don’t know.
Stranger: You didn’t study that in Islamic History? You should read some history.
Me: I will.
Stranger: You should read some American History as well. You know they had slaves here?
Me: Yes.
Stranger: Read about that.

*********************

Another bus stop, another day, with male friend. The conversation is between a stranger and my friend.
Stranger: hi
Friend: hi
Stranger: Are you from India?
Friend: Yes
Stranger: Are you Muslim?
Friend: No.
Stranger: Are you Hindu?
Friend: Yes
Stranger (All so serious): So tell me, do Hindus believe in having their dicks sucked?
Friend: I don’t know
Stranger: Honestly, tell me. Do you have your dicks sucked?
Friend: I don’t know man.
Stranger: Did you ever pay for it?
Friend: No
Stranger: You know you pay 20 bucks for it here.
Friend: Ok.
Stranger: So what do you do there during sex that Americans don’t do?
Friend: I really don’t know.
Stranger: And you’re telling me the truth?
Friend: Yes.
Stranger: Thanks for being honest with me man
***Handshake***

*********************

Queuing at CVS Pharmacy. Stranger behind me speaks.
Stranger: How you doing?
Me: Alright thanks.
Stranger: No offense, but you’re really gorgeous.
Me: Thank you.
Stranger: No offense.
Me: That’s alright. Thanks.
Stranger: Really, no offensive, but you are gorgeous.
Me: Thanks.
Stranger: No offense.