Riding the escalator at the United Nations

Samie’s mother was very, very nice to me. Her name was Rose. When I was only two weeks old in my American life, she took me to the United Nations for the first time. She took me to the visitors’ area and very lovingly showed me how to step on the escalator. In India I never had the experience of riding an escalator. When we came near the end, I did not know what to do, so I jumped. In spite of her wise and compassionate instructions, I did a semi-somersault and fell down very nicely. Luckily I did not get hurt. At that time my athletic heart was strong enough to brave the experience. Samie’s mother was so shocked to see me fall down, and she was cursing herself for not telling me what to do at the end.

Then she took me to a young lady who was talking about the UN. At one point, Samie’s mother said to the guide, “Hey, young lady, why do you have to speak so fast? My Indian son cannot understand a thing. For God’s sake, speak slowly so that he can understand you. What is the use of bringing foreign visitors here if they cannot understand you?” Everywhere we went, she corrected people and told them how to behave towards me.

Even now it happens that I get confused and take the wrong escalator. Quite often I go to Kennedy Airport to walk. Sometimes I am in another world and I do not see which escalator is going down and which one is going up. I enter into the wrong one and fall down.