Like this:

 

I ride the Metro everyday which means in the approximate three weeks I’ve spent in Washington DC, I have spent about 42 hours riding its trains. In the last post, I mentioned the collective respect and communally maintained serenity of the metro. Here is an ad where The Metro justifies the no food no drink policy while taking a jab at NYC…

Beside the obvious sanitary benefits and maintenance cost reduction, the fact that everyone so steadfastly adheres to the policy is an example of our rule-abiding culture. Other cultures are “more relaxed” as one of my students observed in his essay comparing Istanbul with DC. In Morocco, Spain, to some degree France, and apparently Turkey, rules are mere suggestions whereas in the US rules are meant to be dutifully followed for the common good of society with little to no exception. (I even got some raised eyebrows when I drank some water on a platform) In a lax culture, if you, through your own judgment, deem a more efficient alternative, you have the option of acting on that alternative. When I lived in France, I sometimes borrowed my host brother’s bicycle. There was a bridge across a harbor channel in La Rochelle designed for both cars and pedestrians. There was a sign indicating that cyclists should dismount to cross the bridge and so each time I got off my bike, walked across the bridge and got back on once on the other side.

 

After a while, I realized that no one else did that. Other French cyclists disregarded the sign and rode on through. “Fine”, I said to myself and began ignoring the sign as well. In Spain, there is a classic, “no pasa nada” (no big deal) attitude, which permits the axiom, “es mejor pedir perdón, que pedir permiso” (it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission). In Morocco, where traffic has been described as a game of Tetris, the mere idea of J-walking was purely absurd. I realize now that I have more or less adopted this Mediterranean view of rule bending and sometimes the degree to which rules are followed here can feel stifling and I keep thinking, “there must be some exceptions” or “surely they wouldn’t mind if…” for rules and norms.

The Metro is kept very quiet. Audible radios and mp3 players are prohibited and only allowed with earphones. Usually the cars just bustle with the white noise of shifting passengers and flipping pages. After three weeks here, a fellow passenger greeted me for the first time and felt the need to justify talking to me;

“How are you?”

“Fine”

“I like to say hello to people, you know…some people don’t like that but I like to say hello”

“Way to break the norm”

“Yeah, exactly”

He told me to have a nice evening when he left the train. “You too” I rapidly offered.

            Most people are engrossed in a fat novel or skimming the Washington Post or reading something off of their electronic reading device. I tried this; reading on the Metro, I mean. Growing up, I almost always got car-sick. I managed to be ok on trains and planes but I could never read in the car. I thought the Metro would be more akin to a train so I brought a book along. Quickly, an ominous nausea reminiscent of childhood road trips set it. “Don’t vomit, don’t vomit” I internally panicked. I thought about the terror or throwing up in public- I was sitting in a window seat surrounded by rush-hour passengers. Breathe and think about being outside. Thank God for audio books.

Well, I have to go ride the Metro now.

The Metro Rap:

Advertisement