Dallas

After our fourteen obligatory days in Mexico, we were deemed purged of all potential diseases by the US government, which permitted us to enter without much ado. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever made it into the country with as much ease, which is ironic considering we are at the height of another pandemic surge.

If there is one place that knows how to give an American welcome, it is Texas. Heading to Dallas from the Dallas–Fort Worth Airport, one passes through a corridor of gigantic US and Texan flags, as well as a life-sized replica of the White House. The road signs are dotted with the names of Texans who have left their mark on the region, like second president of Texas Mirabeau Lamar, and the whole world, like George Bush and Douglas MacArthur (who was born in Arkansas but graduated valedictorian at the West Texas Military Academy). Over the course of the next few days, we would pass by many other staples of American and Texan culture: Ripley’s Believe It or Not museum, Six Flags, and countless fast-food chains.

We spent our first afternoon in Texas touring the city centre of Dallas, beginning at the Dallas County Courthouse, which is now a history museum. On the next block, we saw the JFK memorial, and opposite from it the alleged cabin of John Neely Bryan, the founder of Dallas (in fact, the wooden building is more likely an almost one hundred year-old replica).

We also had a fun time trying to get a SIM card for my phone. After a few blocks, we found out it wasn’t working, which necessitated our return to the phone dealership (I did not feel very happy about this return, as during our first visit, a man approached me asking how much my camera was worth). We left the dealership with a new phone, for as it turned out, my phone was incompatible with the SIM card of the operator, and it just so happened that we also needed a present for mum.

It was almost six when we recommenced our tour of Dallas. We stopped by the Giant Eyeball, a bizarre landmark in a similarly bizarre place. Despite being a major city attraction, the plaza it stands on is privately owned and closed off because of the pandemic. We proceeded to a statue called the Spirit of Communication, which is located on one of what appeared to be two blocks owned entirely by AT&T, and presumably honours the company’s mission and legacy. Finally, we made our way down to Pioneer Plaza, which boasts a sprawling statuary of two cowboys leading a herd of longhorn cattle.

Dallas left me with a mixture of ambivalent feelings. It is a monumental but oversized city vacant at its core, almost as though it had not been built by and for the people but by capital itself. Besides churches, it does not seem to have places that function as community centres. People lead their atomised lives in the sprawling suburbia, with the hollowed-out city serving as home to no one but the homeless.