How proud are you?

Listen to this while reading: Red Jumpsuit Apparatus - Believe

On Saturday evening, I sat looking out of my 4th floor hotel room window here on San Francisco's California Street, deciding how to spend the evening, when a parade of at least 1000 people; men, women and children of all ages came riding up Larkin Street to the intersection on bicycles.  Some were dressed in amazing outfits and costumes, and others, well, didn't wear anything at all.  They were playing music and looked like they were having a great time.

Watching a gentleman in his business suit approaching the crosswalk, where plenty of other bystanders had paused in order to let the procession pass, he made his way through the crowd into the middle of the bicycle swarm, proceeded to shove a young lady who was clearly in his way off her bike and onto the ground, and continued crossing the road.

A few weeks ago, my sister and I were running late to catch the Bart Train out to Pleasanton to meet some family friends, so instead of walking from Pier 39 to the station, we took a cab.  We arrived at the station within a few minutes, with the cab fare coming to $9.  We handed over a $20 and told the pleasant South American cab driver to "just call it $11" (over a 20% tip).  He looked at us and asked if we had anything smaller.  The $20 note was all either of us had on us.  Suddenly, his grasp of the English language went right out the window and what we gathered was that he had no change.  After a heated argument that it was not our fault he did not have any change whatsoever, he drove, with us still in the car, across the road to the 7/11 and went inside for change.  We ended up missing our train.

After the San Francisco Giants baseball team won the World Series on Sunday night, the entire city erupted into celebrations.  There was a street party in Civic Centre, fireworks and strangers hugging on the streets.  It was absolutely amazing to see a city come together with such pride in a team that had earlier been a complete write-off in the competition.  However, later on that evening, as the street parties continued, and no doubt the alcohol kept flowing, the celebrations soon turned, once again, into destruction and violence.  A city bus was torched, a homeless man's shoe shine stall up in flames and a man was severely beaten.

These occurrences got me thinking about pride, and the general nature of people's feelings toward each other these days.  It made me realise the bubble I have taken for granted where people are mostly nice to each other and always have the time for a smile.  There was once a time when the gentleman walking along the street would have stopped too and watched the revelry of the bicycle parade with a smile on his face, there was once a time when cab drivers took pride in their service and there was once a time when celebration of a job well done did not need to descend into crime.

When did this all go wrong?  When did people start only caring about themselves, and what they can get out of life, as opposed to what they can do for others?  Everyone seems so caught up in the government of life rather than the living of it.

Obviously, the USA is a far cry from my native New Zealand, and don't get me wrong, Kiwis have our own share of bubble-bursters, but this experience living here in America has opened my eyes to the overwhelming self-importance and, in turn arrogance, of so many people the world over.  Since when did we stop caring about others?  About our city?  About our proud in ourselves?

I'm trying my hardest not to knock this country specifically for its impression on me, but I have been to over 30 other countries in my life thus far, and not once have I felt the disappointment that I feel for the land of dreams, America.