THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, December 24, 1994 TAG: 9412230141
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: The View from Down Under
SOURCE: BY SARAH MISKIN, Staff writer
LENGTH: Medium: 65 lines
Sarah Miskin, a Fulbright Professional Exchange Scholar from New Zealand, has worked as a reporter for The Virginian-Pilot and The Ledger-Star since September. Today's column is Sarah's last in an occasional series detailing her experiences in America.
ON A TRIP TO New York at Thanksgiving, I visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art and saw a work titled ``Fleeting time, thou has left me old.''
While I cannot remember the painting, the words stuck in my mind, and I thought about them again in recent days when I realized this was my final week in Norfolk.
I cannot believe how quickly the past three months have disappeared.
Fleeting time has turned my scholarship into a memory almost before it is over.
Now, I am poised to begin a six-week trek across the country before flying home, and I realize I have not done half the things I had hoped to during my foreign sojourn.
And I have yet to find answers to deep, philosophical questions about American life, such as:
Why are your light switches upside down?
Why are your toilets half full of water?
Why do the sink taps in the Pilot's ladies' room turn on in opposite directions?
And if I ever figure these out, there are more waiting: Why does everyone drive faster than the speed limit? Why does the Christmas season start in November? And why, oh why, did Oliver North run for Senate in a state that calls itself the ``Mother of Presidents?''
Perhaps for sanity's sake, it is just as well that I have had little time to research these issues in depth.
I have also been too busy to do much shopping. But I managed to almost get malled at Lynnhaven. I lost my way and had an awful sense of vertigo as the shops merged into one giant swirl of sales tags. I have not dared to venture back.
New Zealand's customs officials may be glad of this. Given the huge array of goods available in the shops here, I can see why they impose a weight limit on suitcases.
Looking back, the most frightening experience was my short descent into the cesspool of political campaigning American-style. Only in America could a candidate's choice of necktie become a source of political scandal.
The best experiences of my stay are equally obvious: They all involve the warmth and generosity of the Americans I have dealt with during my work and my weekends.
Unlike the preconceived Kiwi notion of Americans as - yes - loud, brash, pushy and obnoxious - I have discovered them to be friendly and open-hearted.
New Zealanders often boast of tourists saying that we are the friendliest people in the world, but Americans can look closer to home for paradise. Underneath the ugliness of violence, crime and politics beats the true spirit of the nation. I know it is there because I've seen it.
As I pack my suitcase full of last-minute purchases and boxes of Reese's peanut butter cups, I realize that what I'm carrying home in my hand is not as important as what I'm carrying home in my heart. by CNB