Today I paid a visit to Rhea's III, the latest and largest of the Rhea's locations. Jimmy Rhea, of Pakistan, started the burger joint in the back of a corner grocery barely large enough to contain two or three small tables and a bench area. Apparently living in Pakistan is excellent preparation for making tasty burgers, and other Pakistanis now run the newer Rhea's III location scrumptiously. (They might be family of Jimmy's, but it doesn't seem like it). They're good people; always waving at you like you're their best friend even if you have never been there before.
It was a bit nostalgic for me today, as it was probably my last visit before leaving. All the sights and sounds were there just like usual. There was hardly a soul there when I arrived, opting for an early lunch. So instead of the chitter chatter of burger munching patrons, I was greated with the breathy sighs and overdramatic gesturing of Spanish soap operas playing on the TV. Although sometimes tuned elsewhere, the employees often have these telenovelas on when I dine there. Apparently Spanish soaps are wildly popular in many third and second world countries. In his book Snow
, describing the conflicting traditional values and secularism of Turkey, nobel laureate Orhan Pamuk makes a central feature of this point. Work and play in the small town of Kars cease every evening to watch the latest installment of "Mariana;" indeed, the show is a unifying piece of secularism in the town torn by islamist politics. Perhaps it is a form of wishful thinking: if only the drama of our lives could be so trivial; if only hunger and poverty were replaced by upper class intrigue and scandal.My friend at Rhea's III told me today that business had been really slow lately. Summer is over - no more bored high schoolers stopping in all the time for lunch. And soon they will be losing me to school as well. Whatever will become of Rhea's in this sluggish economy? This is particularly worrisome to me because of what Rhea's represents. Roswell used to be a small little town with lots of trees, green space, and the like. Now, the horse farm is gone, replaced by a bevy of stores and restaurants, most of them chains. But Rhea's stands as a beacon of local uniqueness amidst the international businesses. With its homey atmosphere, its rabbit ear TV that gets horrible reception, its telenovelas, and the occasional greasy spot on the table from the last guest, Rhea's is the sort of place the helps distinguish Roswell as a community within the endless Atlanta suburbs. In this age when neighbors often don't recognize each other in the grocery store, we need a little dose of goodwill towards our fellow man, and local burger joints are a prime place to cultivate that.
Americans traveling to poorer countries often note how friendly everyone is, how generous and caring about neighbors and strangers alike. Perhaps if we knew our neighbors, we would be nice to them in public. But in America it does not surprise me to hear of a neighbor cussing out another neighbor while progressing through traffic some morning. In fact, I personally have been flicked off and yelled at by a neighbor passing on the road, although he surely had no idea I lived just a bit down the road from him. We can do things like that because local community has broken down so much - there is so little social pressure and shame to stop irate neighbors from pouring out obscenity on each other. It is easy to yell and scream at someone you don't know, someone you don't have to deal with at the weekend pool party. But these days, we hardly have to deal with anyone (unfortunately, even sometimes including family in this new era of ipods, the great intra-automobile isolator). In less developed countries, community is still an important facet of society, and forms the backbone of survival in many places. So what is commonplace in poorer regions (civility toward your neighbor), is becoming exceptional here.
So here we are, talking about how great our developments are, telling other countries to be more like us. And they want to. With the exception of countries on par with us economically, much of the world would kill for the American way of life. Understandably so - we have comforts galore, all the food we need (too much sometimes), tv, music, cars - you name it. But they have something many of us don't - a bond with their neighbors. They watch "Mariana," quietly hoping for a better life, dreaming about the riches and comfort they see. After all, even Spanish soap operas aspire to American pomp. But when they do climb up the economic ladder a little more, will they end up like many of us, not knowing what it is to be a neighbor, caring only for self? I hope not.
Don't get me wrong - America is great, and we truly are blessed who live here. And there are certainly still good neighbors out there. But it seems like we have begun to confuse materialism with the American dream. We forget the joy of giving and even forget the fun of kinship. If we were just a little less concerned about getting everything we can as fast as we can, perhaps then we would realize that no slight traffic delay is worth the bird, and the time it takes to befriend neighbors is well worth it. Of everyone I know, my sister is best at loving her neighbor. In fact, the one time I remember participating in the greeting of new neighbors was when she suggested we take them some cookies and coke for a break as they moved in. Little did I know that they would be the best neighbors we would ever have, friends for years to come. Who knows what course our friendship would have taken if my sister had not suggested we do something so foreign to me, but common to many less fortunate than I. So maybe stop by Rhea's as a refresher on friendliness - be sure to say hi to the cook - and make a friend. Know your neighbor.
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