Now We've Met The Americans...

New Zealand Listener, Volume 7, Issue 181, 11 December 1942, Page 4

Now We've Met The Americans...

TO judge by external signs, life in New Zealand is not an ordeal for the average American serviceman, whatever arm of the fighting forces he belongs to. It is most unusual to see one looking lonely or lost or depressed. But appearances are deceitful. To find out how they feel underneath their smiles and smart uniforms, we spent some time last week asking them questions. Simultaneously, we had a series of questions about them asked of New « Zealanders who have entertained them. Here are some of the results.

What They Think Of Us?

UR first encounter was with two very young American visitors on a tram. "We like it here,’ they assured us. "The folks here have been swell to us." Questioned further, they particularised. Our houses: "You do put your houses in some funny places, don’t you?" Our weather: "Say, is it always this windy?" Our women: "Sure, we like the New Zealand girls. They’re so quick on the come-back." This was rather surprising to us, since if you can believe the films, it’s hard to beat an American cutie for a quick come-back. But perhaps it can be explained by the fact that both our servicemen were very young. "They Don’t Get Ideas" However, this tribute to our New Zealand womanhood was borne out by another serviceman of riper years, who, when questioned.by The Listener, said that he thought New Zealand girls were on the whole more intelligent and betternatured than the girls back home. Here was the proof: "Back home, if I dated one girl one night and another the next, and then they both got together, they’d probably start tearing each other’s hair out. But out here they don’t seem to mind a bit-they just ask each other if they enjoyed their night out. And they don’t seer. to get romantic ideas too easily." The Opposite Opinion However, the opposite opinion was expressed by a sailor we met. He regretted that New Zealand girls didn’t Tecognise a "line" when they saw it, but tended to accept all that was said at its face value. "When I take a girl out for the evening and say to her ‘Gee, honey, you’re looking swell!’ I expect her to come back with something like ‘You’re not looking so bad yourself.’ But instead of that, she usually says ‘Oh, am I?’ and goes all ga-ga." However, he softened the blow by adding that he’d noticed a change for the better, and that now, the girls here seemed to be getting used to the navy, and as far as repartee was concerned, were almost up to American standards,

"What do you think of our food?" was the question we asked the next serviceman we encountered." "We're getting used to it now," was the reply. Americans here apparently notice the fact that there are fewer fresh fruits and vegetables on the average table, and that apple pie comes in more often hot than cold, And they still miss their iced water with meals, "Coffee? We wouldn’t call it coffee," is still the universal comment. However, this particular serviceman likes drinking milk, and finds New Zealand milk particularly drinkworthy. "Practical Rather Than Glamorous" "Yes, I like it here. I feel plenty at home here," was the comment of one marine from the middle west. Except for the absence of central heating the houses here are very little different from those in his home town, he said. And the girls aren’t much different either, except, as he put it rather kindly, New Zealand girls go in for practical rather than glamorous outfits. But he finds the street-cars slow. "Where I come from if you and a girl friend want to board a street-car you help the girl friend on and the car goes before you’ve a chance to get on yourself. But here you help her on and then get on yourself and the street-car waits for your shadow." Our Money And Our Accent The currency was the burden of a complaint by another serviceman we interviewed. " Been here a month and just can’t cotton on to it somehow," he complained. " Look at your penny, It’s not worth much and yet it’s almost the biggest coin you have. And then there’s your accent." " Accent?" we protested. "We haven’t got an accent." "Waal," he drawled in a voice that the talkies have taught us to recognise as Southern. "It’s what I’d call an accent. Why can’t you speak decent Amurrican?"

What We Think Of Them ?

ee ICE but exhausting" is the verdict of a young woman who has met several Americans in the course of her hostessing duties. "My first acquaintance with Americans was when we picked up two tramforsaken servicemen and drove them from Karori terminus to the wharf. One came from Cincinnati, Ohio, and the other from Pittsburg. They spent the whole twenty minutes of travelling time giving us statistics about their respective cities. Finally I got round to asking them what they thought of New Zealand. ‘It’s a great little country,’ said one. And bore out his statement by adding with suitable impressiveness, ‘ You know here you have almost as many cinemas per head of population as we do in the U.S.’" They Like to Learn The thirst for getting as well as giving information is a quality noted also by a woman in charge of one of our Home Hospitality Bureaux for servicemen. "I think it does them credit," she said, " but it rather shows up the flaws in one’s education. They take such an intelligent interest in everything. Several have asked me questions about the early history of New Zealand which, to my mortification, I have been unable to answer. Several others have asked things like what proportion of the population (Continued on next page)

(Continued from previous page) is engaged in farming, or the number of acres still under forest in New Zealand, Fortunately the Public Library is fairly near our bureau." "They’re all such nice boys," said a middle-aged woman. "So frank and generous, and such charming manners. I’ve had several of them up to meals on various occasions. At first I was a little doubtful about the food, because we’re always told what wonderful food they have in America, and certainly the pictures in illustrated papers bears this out. But they assured me that they liked my cooking." "There’s something naive and childlike about them," she went on. "In individuals it’s an appealing quality, but one wonders how it works out in the mass. They don’t seem to question things very much." "A Dandy Lot" "I think the Americans are a dandy lot of boys," said an assistant at a servicemen’s club. " Yes, we certainly do like having them here and they like the visit by the look of things. They are well mannered and helpful and very grateful for anything that we may do for them. What do they like eating? Well, steak and eggs, I guess, by the way they come back for more. And they like our coffee here all right, though New Zealand coffee generally doesn’t come up to U.S. standard. They think our winter marvellous, but I’m sure I don’t know just what they’ll think of our summer. Of course they come from all parts. One forgets just how much of America there is and how much one doesn’t know. I praised California oranges to a lad from California one day and I was caught up straight away by his mate. " Have you ever tasted Florida oranges? Well you ain’t tasted nothing until you’ve had fruit from Florida." -And a Candy Lot "We are glad to have them here because they buy a lot of candy," a sweet shop assistant told us. "They always seem a bit disappointed that they can’t get larger quantities. Two pound boxes go nowhere, they say: they would like ten and twelve pounds at a time and they just can’t understand the rationing of chewing gum. But they like our lollies-candy I should say-in fact some prefer it to their own American sweet stuff. But perhaps this is just politeness." Talks By The Fire "The thing that strikes me about the American boys that we have met," said one hostess who has entertained Ameriare extraordinarily well-informed and alive, aware of all that is going on. My husband finds the same with the ones that he has met in camps, They seem to be very friendly and very grateful even for just a quiet evening by the fire

"We felt sorry for our visitors one wet | afternoon when the rain was coming down in buckets. After all, it was spring, and one feels entitled to expect a few chirruping birds and rays of golden light stealing over the hill. "You must get pretty wet this weather," we ventured. ; "Wet? No siree!" they replied, "we’ve got the best equipment in the world." Musically Speaking That New Zealand is not completely benighted, musically speaking, is the comforting opinion of Richard Hill, a member of the American Legation staff, Mr. Hill, whose chief interest is music, was for five years tenor soloist at Mr. Roosevelt’s church. "It’s unfair to ask me what I think of New Zealand music at a time like this when there isn’t any," said Mr. Hill. We gasped. "T mean no flesh and blood music," he amended. "I understand that since the war you. have had very few visiting artists here. Peter Dawson is the only one since I’ve been here, and then he was accompanied by a considerably fore-shortened orchestra. "But musically speaking I feel very much at home in New Zealand. New Zealanders are far from ignorant musically, and your broadcast programmes maintain a very high standard. Actually, I sometimes find it a little embarrassing, because most of the New Zealanders I've met seem to know so much more about music than I do."