A more polite way of going through life

The other day I was taking my usual walk down town to buy some

groceries. There are two signals on my way -- one at Poppy and one at

Marguerite Avenue. Now, I obey those signals. There was a time when I

might have skipped across regardless, but that time is long in the

past, so now I wait for the green pedestrian signal before crossing

the street.

So there I was, standing at the corner of Marguerite and Coast

Highway, waiting for the OK. The signal changed and I proceeded to

cross the street, only to find a large black car barreling straight

at me. To say I leaped out of the way would be an exaggeration. At my

age, rapid shuffle is probably more accurate, but somehow I managed

to maneuver my decrepit body out of the way, and the driver flew by,

horn blaring disdainfully.

That took me back to American Samoa and how differently automobile

horns are used there. In most places in the world, automobile horns

are used to express impatience (the driver of the black car), anger,

frustration or rage. Not in American Samoa. Their horns are used to

express friendship, courtesy, cooperation and gratitude. The only

time you would ever hear a horn was if you were waiting to make a

left-hand turn into a flow of oncoming traffic or if you are waiting

to pull into such a flow.

Here, everyone speeds up and crowds in jealously. Let someone else

in? Not on your life. There, a car in the oncoming flow would stop

and sound his horn with a polite beep. That meant, “Please come out

[or through].” In return, you sounded your horn with a responding

beep to say thank you. Try that here and both drivers would be shot.

Of course, it helps that there is a great deal less traffic in Samoa,

but it also helps that Samoans are uniformly polite.

While I was there, I saw a letter in which the sender accused the

recipient of everything under the sun. He was a liar, a thief, a

fraud and a deceitful, mendacious, conniving scoundrel. After a

couple of pages of unrestrained vituperation, the last sentence read,

“May the spirit of the approaching Christmas and New Year’s bring you

and all your loved ones happiness, success and good health.”

This politeness is probably an outgrowth of all the ceremony that

is so much a part, even today, of Samoan life. They love to make

long, effusive speeches, and this often extended to the court room

where I presided. I remember, in particular, one witness who had been

called to give testimony.

Attorney: “State your name, please.”

Witness: “Thank you for asking that question. May it please the

honorable court, I would like to say how honored I am to be in the

presence of this honorable court which I honor and respect. Insofar

as the oath I just took I wish to advise the honorable court that I

am a sincere Christian, that I am active in my church, that I worship

God, and that I will, in the presence of God, give nothing but honest

evidence. Will you repeat the question please?”

Less flowery but even more memorable was a witness in another case

I heard. The witness stood in the witness box and raised his right

hand.

Clerk: “Do you solemnly swear that the evidence you are about to

give in the matter before this court will be the truth, the whole

truth and nothing but the truth?”

Witness: “No.”

Now there’s someone who took the oath seriously.

* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge.

His column runs Tuesdays.