Idle Talk and Avoiding Discomfort

I used to live in a gated apartment in Los Angeles, near the LAX airport. There were all sorts living there; We had a group of Irish stewardesses who loved to party, for example. They would rage for three days with all the neighbors then head off to man a new flight bound for destinations unknown. It seemed like a fun life until they left then my feelings changed about it and it seemed like a fragile, transient life. They would stay for a few days at a time and then leave for months of travel. They would always come back though.

One of our friends got together with one of the stewardesses who seemed somehow like the leader. She was like the frontwoman who went up and talked to new people first and got the party going, winging for her friends. Anyway, one of our own friends, a pretty nondescript frat boy who liked beer pong and red cups, and was kind of an asshole, fell in love with her and eventually they got married and she moved to America. She must have seen something in him that we didn’t see though, and she seemed like a good person, so I was happy for them.

But I digress. Back to the place; The whole complex was super international. There were Polish people worked at fast food places on working holiday. There was a German woman that lived there who I said hi to sometimes if I ran into her. The German woman was tall and lean and tanned from the California sun. I didn't know much about her until one day I ran into her and asked,

"Hey, how's it going?" I didn't expect a real response. Most people know that that it's just something you say to people you passed by, most people said something like, Doing great! or Not bad! or I'm OK.

"Not good," she responded. I was a little surprised. There was a weariness or sadness in her eyes that I hadn’t obtained yet, being still in school. "I'm leaving America" she told me.

"What? Why?" I asked. She had been living there for several months, and I talked to her sometimes because I thought it was interesting that she was from Germany. I had never been there. She spoke German, English, French, and Spanish. I hadn’t known that was possible, and the mere fact I found amazing. But for her it was normal, but in comparison to the average Angeleno she seemed very sophisticated.

"I'm a horse trainer, I have to wake up really early to train horses. I wake up at 4 AM everyday. My neighbors are all night some days, having parties and making a lot of noise. I have to get good sleep, riding horses is very dangerous." That explained the tan. But it also explained a lot.

I responded, "Why don't you just move to a new place? You're leaving the country?"

"This place is crazy," she replied. "You need to get out of here."

"Why?" I asked.

"My husband is Mexican, he's a horse trainer like me. We spend time with his friends, but there are so many problems. Everyone hates each other. The Mexicans hate the black guys, the black guys hate the Mexicans. Everyone hates each other." (Her words, not mine)

I didn't know how to respond because I didn't understand situation at the time. We obviously ran in different circles. My friends were all white kids from the midwest, but I didn't think about that until years later. They had all been to Europe maybe once on Holiday because it had been built up in their minds as the Old World by our college as the source of our culture, language, and heritage. Their strange ways seemed somehow superior.

Back to the story. The German woman continued. She could probably tell I didn't get it. "You spend more time here and you'll figure it out. There's bullet proof glass everywhere. I hear gunshots at night. My neighbors are all smoking weed all day. All I want to do is ride horses. I’m thinking about moving to French Guiana with my husband. They ride horses there. “

I honestly couldn’t tell if she was running away from her problems, or giving me some insight I couldn‘t see the value of yet. What do you think?

What is idle talk? I thought to myself afterwards. Why did she decide to answer my question that one time, after I had asked that question hundreds of times to others, and everyone always gave the same responses? Doing great, I'm ok, not bad. Everybody knew you weren't supposed to answer that question.

How's it going? is an everyday expression. It's just something that people say. It's kind of like a greeting, and it doesn't really mean anything. It's a way to grease the social gears so that coming and going doesn't seem as mechanical or awkward.

When she told me about the horses, it meant that there was a real possibility of dying in her job as a result of her living situation. It wasn't really about her apartment or her job though, it was about her experiences in Los Angeles. Of different groups of people hating each other. Of collective discontent, discord, and a sense of chaos. All those things together made her decide it was time to go. I don't remember where she went in the end.

One of the most important parts of travel to me is that it forces us to not accept the status quo. The German woman came as an outsider, she saw things with the benefit of distance, something I couldn't quite grasp at the time. These were things I'd only read about in books. I knew about inequality in America as a concept but hadn’t experienced it myself.

When we talk to each other we cannot always be serious. Sometimes we repeat things that we have already heard, however often if we ask and answer a question like How are you? without an understanding that is truly ours, we are operating in the public realm, we are simply going about our everyday business without the intention of communicating meaning.

Often we talk about things (Famously, about the weather for example) with the intention of avoiding discomfort. We talk about something that's harmless without the intention of disclosing or interpreting anything. We talk for the sake of talking And sometimes it makes us feel better or gives us a sense of comfort or being at home.

Sometimes we don't want to hear what people are telling us. The woman did not repeat the ready made lines or canned response to the question How are you? because she wanted to tell me about herself. It's important though that we recognize the risk in breaking social script, as people might label us as strange or as an outsider, but I figured she was German so maybe she didn't understand what she was supposed to do.

That's what I took out of her conversation with me. Obviously, this story is not really about a German woman leaving Los Angeles or a strange apartment complex.

It’s about the fact that once in awhile, I think it's important to talk about uncomfortable things, instead of passing people by and talking about how nice today's sunshine is, how nice the breeze is and how the birds are whispering to us accusingly in the trees.