Of Chickens and Fish....

I have done a lot of thinking today. Thinking and driving, too.

I didn't have that many patients to see today, but they managed to live on the opposite sides of town from each other. It always amazes me to see the differences in the neighborhoods in Podunk. I was in one this morning that was quite affluent.

Mostly, I was in the neighborhood where people live who have immigrated here from other places. This morning, I saw a woman who is Sikh. And a woman who is from the Philippines. Different cultures, different ways of dealing with the economic downturn.

One thing they all had in common, this morning, was that the homes were occupied by extended families. Although all the homes qualified as “single family dwellings,” all were occupied by multigenerational families.

The home in the affluent neighborhood is occupied by four adult men; three brothers and one of their sons. They all contribute to the household expenses and the upkeep. The youngest, who is the son of the youngest of the three brothers, was out front watering the garden when I drove up.

He smiled and greeted me warmly. He has a friendly smile and a mohawk haircut. I have no idea what the purpose is for the mohawk, but he seems to like it....

Out the back slider in this fancy home is the swimming pool. It is filled with bright blue water and a pool sweep that spouts water at erratic intervals. And amuses the chickens. Yes, there are chickens in the backyard, pecking the ground, looking for food.

On the other side of town, in the less affluent neighborhood that is home to people from all over the globe, things were quiet this morning. I was surprised: I only saw one toddler, escaping from his grandmother and running down the driveway toward the street. She caught him before he made it to his objective.

As I was walking back to my car after the first visit, a truck pulled into the driveway across the street. A little dusty black Datsun, with the back full of fishing gear. Yes, I know that Datsun became Nissan many, many years ago, but this truly was a Datsun pickup.

The man got out of the truck's cab and looked in the bed of the pickup, smiling. He pulled out a red and white ice chest and looked into it. And then looked into it again. A woman came out the front door and greeted him with a smile. He motioned for her to look in the ice chest. She did, and then squealed with delight.

He didn't go up to the lake before dawn to enjoy a lazy day of sport fishing. He went to catch supper and, obviously, he did. I quite imagine that the backyard at his house is filled with a vegetable garden, and that something will be picked to compliment the fish he caught.

None of the houses I was in today was particularly well furnished. In fact, they were all rather sparsely furnished. Only the absolute necessities were there, covered in old sheets to protect the upholstery. The televisions were all old, and small. There were no big screen TVs, no surround sound, no DVD players, and no video games.

Life has been reduced to the lowest possible common denominator that will provide the bare necessities for each member of the household. Food growing in the backyard. Chickens pecking at the cool decking surrounding a pool. Nearly thirty-year-old Datsuns driven to the nearest place to fish for supper. Children wearing diapers and little else.

And yet, the neighborhood had a heartbeat. There is a rhythm and a pulse to it. The people there are doing the best they can in a difficult economic situation. They eat what they can find, or catch, or grow. They wear what they have already. They sit on whatever is available, and they take it all in stride.

I suppose many of them came to America with only what they could wear on their back and carry in a carry on bag. All the “treasures” they might have been able to gather in another country are still there, in that country. They have come here to start over. And starting over is hard.

So, the other thing that amazes me is their smiles. They all smiled, all the time, while I was visiting. And sharing. As hard as it is for them to put food on their own tables, they didn't hesitate to offer me food while I was there.

And, at the end of the day, after hunting and gathering and sharing it with their extended family, they go to bed happy.

They are in America.....