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I wish to share my very first experience of arriving in America in 1979. My husband got transferred by his company and the man he was replacing came with his wife to visit us in Holland were we lived at the time. They were very friendly and brought presents. Three months later, when we arrived in the States, they met us at the airport. Took our dogs to a kennel (where? we did not know) and put us in a temporary rental. So far so good. They invited us to festivities of all sorts and barbecues at their home (which was going to go on sale). The wife took me to their local school. Their had a friend realtor to show us around a few houses in their neighborhood. I wanted to live in the city, not the suburb. They told us our kids would get "bused" and mix with bad kids etc. The realtor (remember, their friend) showed me the most horrid houses there were. These "friendly" people told us then that their house would sell in a week as soon as they would put it on the market and the start of the school year was approaching so we better hurry finding a house to buy. Silly us then, decided to put in an offer for their house! They accepted too eagerly. Well, we never saw them again after that. I had even given her a present for her birthday which she never even acknowledge. No more friendly people.

Later, we learned that the realtor was getting savings bonds for her children in the deal, from these people. The house owner of the one we were renting said we could have had our dog in there. The dogs came back but in a bad state: covered in feces and fleas, but happy to see us after 2 months. Then, to top it all, neighbors of the house we bought, told us later that the house had been on the market for more than a year before we arrived and taken off all of a sudden.

The moral of this story: be careful of friendly Americans, ANYWHERE. (because actually this is not my only story, but it is the very first). And it colored my whole life here. I was too trusting of "friendly people". Well, now, when someone is particularly friendly, sorry, but I take out my 10 feet pole to keep them away from me (figuratively).

On the other hand, once, we were visiting France with our children. The plane had arrived late in Paris. We had to take a train and make a phone call but did not have a card to use in the telephones and only large bank notes that the cashier in the station would not change. We were well dressed and speaking English (I mean we did not look like bums) and a young man excused himself for overhearing our conversation and, in broken English, offered us his card for the telephone. I was flabbergasted: the French, who are supposed to be so unfriendly? And they were helping us finding a telephone and helping us to make our call and pay for it - yes it was long distance and he did not mind. I will always remember this nice young man.
EJ ..more by this author..
USA