Heading Downingtown

As the NYC skyline disappears behind me, the scenery changes one train stop at a time. I’m headed toward Pennsylvania. In Downingtown I descend the stairs of my coach and immediately set my sight on my friend Kat, it has been 18 years since I last saw her. Big hugs of welcome and my first comment “Oh my word, you sound like a proper American”.  All traces of her South African accent have dissolved but that lovely cheeky character is firmly set and immediately I feel comfortable.

She has been given a mission for the next two days, introduce me to American culture and Chester county life.

What better start than to expose me to the difference between two well known megastores, namely Target and Walmart. I even get a lesson on how to pronounce each one correctly so that the locals will know what I mean. It’s all about the syllables, what to or not to pronounce. The last T in Target is silent and the E is accented. With Walmart, you just swallow that T whole.

Your eyes will tell you the story. Let’s put it this way, I’d probably shop at Target if I want my things to last and not get too much of a shock at the colourful characters hidden in the aisles of Walmart. Fixtures and fittings at Target are more appealing, Walmart has managed to keep costs down even in presentation.

Next is the school pick up drive. Outside waiting for the throngs of spirited children is the ever patient bus driver, Miss Jackie,  sporting her yellow bus. She welcomes me on board with a smile that stretches from ear to ear. I’m not sure if she is simply suppressing her laughter at my fascination with this icon of the American movie or if she is just loving the idea of a South African on her bus. I get asked about Oscar Pistorius and Nelson Mandela. I’m glad Madiba also featured in our conversation otherwise I’d be genuinely concerned about the current picture we portray to the US. I think I may have convinced Miss Jackie to visit South Africa.

We end the evening with a birthday dinner at Militos, a local Italian restaurant. The Ravioli pockets filled with cheese and sausage, topped with basil, ricotta and Militos red sauce prepare my taste buds for the culinary experience that this stay already promises to be. Washed down with a Pennsylvania state craft beer, Yards Philadelphia Pale Ale loosens my tongue and I attempt to converse above the sound of joyful chatter filling this local establishment.