I stood in line at the local department store, clutching a couple of tops and a blouse, wondering why the person ahead was taking so long.
To my left, a family with a little girl belted firmly in the stroller. She yelled loudly "Appa..." and my mind categorized them firmly as 'another desi family'.
The cashier wasn't done yet with the man at the register. He stood, looking thin and worn out, in a leather or pleather jacket and jeans, with an 8 or 9 year old daughter in pigtails standing at his side. A toddler with cropped hair wearing a floral dress over leggings padded about in bare feet around the store display, while her sister watched her from a distance, not attempting to go after her, just holding silently to an empty umbrella stroller.
The line behind me was growing longer, the whiff of impatience growing stronger with little murmurings behind me. The toddler waved about what looked like a gift card and wrapper, her father looked desperately in the direction of the shoe aisle, waiting, as he clutched a discount card and flyer.
A loud voice announced something about buying a dress, behind me. In Tamil. Ok, so that means 'desi family' was actually Tamilians shopping in the store.
Hmm, what about the harassed father with two daughters? They looked faintly desi, but not quite.
Just then, a very young lady with a highly decorative hijab, blue with embroidery and a small sparkly fringe, wearing an equally pretty blue kameez and pants, rushed up to the counter, carrying a winter jacket.
The man sighed in relief as the cashier finished up the sale and rang them out, smiling broadly as he handed over the discount coupon. The mother looked frantically a moment for the toddler and retrieved her from near the dishcloth display, perching her on the hip with a swift efficiency. The gift card fell unnoticed to the middle of my path to the cash register.
Should I pick it up or ignore it? No matter, a bare half minute, the older daughter darted in, picked up the gift card, and adroitly put it back in with the other gift cards at the sales counter.
Sale done, the whole family trundled out the door, discussing their purchases of bulky winter jackets that were almost surely a fantastic bargain, end-of-year clearance. Hopefully it will keep the girls warm as the weather turns cold in the fall.
The cashier seemed extra short and unfriendly to me as she went through the motions of ringing my purchases up, no matter that I finished up my transaction in a tiny fraction of the time of the previous customer. Maybe she was worn out from holding on to her civility for them, and not too inclined to be polite to any more brown people for the day.
If so, I'm glad that the young family ahead got the polite and patient treatment, even if I didn't. Let them have at least some more time to savor America as a welcoming refuge, even if time eventually disabuses them of that dream.