Neal Sanders

Have you every been in another country and had something happen to you that made you think, "Why didn't I stay home?" Not something tragic - just something sufficiently embarrassing that you realized that you were a stranger in a strange land? <BR> <BR>It has happened to me many times, but twice in a manner so jarring that I realized that, no matter how many times I travel abroad, I'm just a tourist and I may as well put on my Bermuda shorts and Hawaiian shirt and carry a Nikon around my neck. <BR> <BR>Herewith, my two stories. I hope other will be inspired to post their own to this thread (and my apology that one essentially repeats a post from a few months back). <BR> <BR> * * * * * <BR> <BR>Some years ago, my wife and I went to Tuscany for a few weeks, and were bound and determined to "blend in." We took an immersion course in Italian, omitted from our packing list anything that was overtly American in design, and rented a Fiat that was, we were told, authentically Italian (it had all of the power of a Vespa). We did pretty well for a while. Then came the "dopo" debacle. <BR> <BR>Tuscany shuts down for several hours in the middle of the day. It's an Italian thing (also a French thing, a Spanish thing...) But as Americans on vacation, the idea of taking a three-hour lunch or relaxing under the shade of an olive tree to watch a game of bocci was anathema. So, we took to buying the makings of a picnic lunch each day at mid-morning and using the noon-to-three siesta to drive from town to town through the countryside. <BR> <BR>About a week into our sojourn, my appointed task was to buy sandwich meats and cheese at a supermarket in Poggibonzi. I carefully rehearsed my order, then took my place in line at the deli counter. Behind the counter was a demure young lady of perhaps 17 years. I gave her my order with an air of studied, Italian nonchalance. I was rewarded with her nodding in all the right places. <BR> <BR>Then she said, "Dopo?" <BR> <BR>Dopo. I racked my brain and my mental dictionary. "Dopo" was not in it. <BR> <BR>"Dopo?" she repeated, a little less friendly, no longer quite so demure. <BR> <BR>"Dopo," I muttered under my breath and tried out possible responses. "Dopo....what?" There were now five people in line behind me. <BR> <BR>"Dopo?" she barked, glancing at the line behind me, clearly annoyed. My mouth was hanging open, utterly lost for words in any language. <BR> <BR>"WHAT ELSE YOU WANT?" came the shouted translation from an elderly woman at the end of the line. Clearly, only an English-speaking moron could be holding up a line in this manner. <BR> <BR>"Nothing else," I said, shaking my head, then added, a bit too late, "Niente." The girl prepared my order, sneering. <BR> <BR>In Italian, "dopo" literally means "after." In colloquial Tuscan, it means, "what else you want?" "Dopo" my ignominious defeat at the hands of a 17-year-old shop girl, we gave up trying to blend in. We spoke Italian when it seemed appropriate, English the rest of the time. We stopped trying to mimic the 9:30 p.m. dining schedule and distinctive, overhand eating style of the Italians and started eating dinner at a more reasonable 7:30 with all of the other tourists. "You are Americans?" became an opportunity to break the ice with many people from many nations. One afternoon, on a hilltop in Arezzo, an elderly man showed us the path the Fighting 29th took to take that bastion from the Nazis. Half in English, half in Italian, he communicated what, to him, was one of the momentous events of his life. We would never have had that conversation if we were still trying to "blend in." <BR> <BR> * * * * * <BR> <BR>Being abroad on business is perhaps the best way to get to know people from other countries. But it's also a reminder of the cultural gulf that sometimes separates people of different lands. And it's the little things that can trip you up. <BR> <BR>I can still vividly recall an embarrassing gaffe on my first overseas business trip. It was to London, I was all of 27, and I was having dinner with one of my company's UK managers. We were at a very nice restaurant in Mayfair. We were chatting about life in general. The manager said he had just bought a house. "Nothing elaborate," he said, "a terraced house on a street back of town, just two-up, two-down." <BR> <BR>Now, I had heard that somewhere before, I thought to myself. And then, in a flash I remembered a song from ten years earlier… "But all that's left is a place dark and lonely, a terraced house on a mean street back of town; becomes a shrine when I think of you only, just two up, two down..." The lyrics had been utterly unfathomable to me when Herman's Hermits sang that song in 1967; British real-estate jargon meant absolutely nothing to an American 17 year old. Now, in this London restaurant, it all made perfect sense. <BR> <BR>"No Milk Today!" I blurted out, much too loudly, then realized what I had said and immediately wanted to curl up under the table and die. I believed everyone in the restaurant to be staring at me. <BR> <BR>For what seemed like an eternity, my dining companion looked at me, incredulously. Then a dawning comprehension. He patted his cheek with his napkin. "Just so," he said at last, nodding. "Herman's Hermits. 'Just two up, two down'," he said, musically. The evening returned to a semblance of normalcy. The entire restaurant stopped staring at me and resumed its conversations. <BR> <BR>I have tripped over other customs, languages, and rituals in other countries since then, but none has stayed with me like that evening in London. <BR> <BR>* * * * * <BR> <BR>What's your story? <BR> <BR>

Aztec

I like this forum a lot and read it often. I was enjoying these well written and amusing stories. However, I'm not quite highbrow enough to understand what in the world you're talking about with the "No milk today" comment. I'm generally quite knowledgeable and am an educated person but this story escapes me.

Walter

<BR>In 1973 I was a 19yo in the US military and was stationed in a little town 32km from Athens. I had only been in Greece for a few weeks when my roommate's Greek girlfriend set me up on a blind date. The woman was a couple of years older than me and very prim and proper and worked in a bank. During the evening when the band went on break she asked me if I had learned any Greek. Proudly in the now quiet club I started speaking words and phrases that I had memorized but it takes a few seconds for the words to translate in my mind their true meaning. Well intermingled with the hello/goodbye, thank-you, you're welcome etc. were a few *words and phrases* I picked up from my navy buddies in the barracks. Lenny Bruce would have blushed. The expression on her face (and stares from the next table) told me I had just given her "the blind date from hell" story, that to this day I'm sure she still remembers. I never saw her again. Regards, Walter

catherine

We were in a crowded market in Merano Italy.The idea was to buy some picnic food to eat in the park.There was a stall selling sausages.there were all colours and sizes.There were some black sausages that looked particularly appetising.Because I don't speak Italian ,I smiled and pointed at them.The stall holder started to wrap them up.Then he smiled at the package and said Hee Haw.I was horrified.My blood froze in my veins,and it was 40c. <BR>I pointed at some red sausage and he whinnyed like a horse.My husband who is a bit of a joker said no, no and started barking like a dog.The stall holder was really laughing then and a big crowd had started to form to listen.Then I crowed like a chicken and the stall holder shook his head.We went through some more animal impersonations for the sake of the crowd who were doubled up laughing.Finally I snorted like a pig and got my sausage.It was funny but I was embarrased with all those people watching. <BR>Aztec,I think no milk today is a song by Hermans Hermits.

Jen

A romantic trip to the City of Lights with my new boyfriend for a long weekend. I had to go to the bathroom again so we darted into les Galleries Lafayette in Paris. I found my way to the head, did my business and went to find my lover. After searching on several floors for him, I discovered him and he said"What is wrong with your skirt?" I had walked all thru the store with my skirt tucked into my pantyhose in the rear! Nice!

elaine

<BR>This happened to my sister and her husband, but it may be a "you had to be there" story. <BR> <BR>They had reservations at Lucas-Carton for dinner, one of Paris's top formal restaurants. When they were seated, their waiter asked them if they would care for a drink. My sister said, in her Anglo-French, that she would like a Lillet, which is a French aperitif. My brother-in-law said he would have the same. The waiter repeated it, with a quizzical look on his face, and my sister confirmed that she wanted "Lillet". A few minutes later <BR>the waiter brought them two large tumblers of milk. "Lillet" is an apertif, when properly asked for, but <BR>"le lait" is French for milk.

Maira

I went into a french supermarket to buy fruit and walked up to the cashier to pay for them. At my turn, the cashier lady turns to me and said something in french. I had no clue what she was saying. The customers behind started talking to me. No clue what they were saying. Turns out I was supossed to weigh the fruits in the area where I picked them (and get them labeled). The cashier took the fruits from me, walked back, and did it herself. The longest two minutes of my life with the other customers in line staring at me. The cashier was a sweatheart about it, though.

Brian in Atlanta

I too used to lay awake and think about the stupid things I have done and how embarrassing they had been. But then I decided to stop beating myself up about it. Here's how I did it: <BR> <BR>I imagined what it would be like to be one of those people in line behind Neal or Maira. I may have been a little annoyed that I had to wait a couple of minutes more because the person in front didn't know the system, but I would also notice that they were foreign and would let it go. Even if I wasn't as accepting of "foreigners" I would quickly forget that the delay even occurred. <BR>My point is that everyone else involved in the embarrassing event quickly forgets it ever happened - except the person who gets embarrassed.

Monica Richards

When I was in Italy for a month on my honeymoon, it was not one incident that reminded me that I was a foreigner but a bunch of little things. I consistently forgot to bring change to the restroom to tip the people there. I couldn't seem to get it right about where I should stand at the cafe to get my coffee and pastry in the morning. We would go to bars and never get served (found out later you are supposed to put down a coin to show you are ready to order). I didn't realize how much all of this was affecting me until I returned home and went to a wedding the next day. Now THESE customs I understood!

raeona

Basically, jusr getting used to the French bathroom system: eschewing a visit I really needed to make because of the man at the pissoir that stood between me and the Ladies Room (femme?) door...and, too often, when I did get past the door, finding that damned drain in the floor and trying to figure out what to do next. (Mainly, I crossed my legs and waited for another opportunity).

just interested

would like to see this one go to the top.

Ginny

The scene - the Catania, Sicily train station <BR>The problem - Montezumas(Guidos)revenge <BR>The other problem - even though I exceeded the nominal fee required to get one square of TP, hoping I might get one more (like that would help) I <BR>still only received one square. <BR>One more problem - I will not sit down on the toilet. <BR>Result - ugly toilet, ugly tourist. <BR>I can only hope that extra token of money made up for it...

Martha B

The worst scene I can remember was when I achieved everbody's dream-- getting mistaken for a real, live European. I went to a kiosk in a small town in Southern Spain, and tried, in very bad Spanish, to get some postcards. The vendor gave me a long, jovial answer, of which I understood not a single word. He tried again and again, getting more and more offended by my blank expression. Finally, I realized he wasn't speaking Spanish. He was "making me feel at home"-- by speaking German! And I was insulting the heck out of him by "pretending" I couldn't understand! Arghhh!I managed to get the postcards without being physically assaulted, but it was a near thing. What I wouldn't have given, just then, to be recognized as an American!

jodie

Not a major humiliation, but another linguistic woops. I'd lost my regular glasses while switching to sunglasses walking around a small town in southern France (see posting about contacts). I went to a gendarme to ask if there might be somewhere like a town "lost and found" but he kept flicking a lighter at me and asking for a cigarette. I was increasingly alarmed at the interaction, wondering what his intentions were, until it dawned on me that I'd told him I'd lost my "allumettes" (matches), not my "lunettes" (glasses).

Bob

My wife and I were in a rented BMW in Rudesheim on the Rhine looking for a place to park to go eat at one of the restaurants on the Droggelgasse. After many twists and turns I finally spotted a better route. After a few yards I noticed all the people looking at me. Seems I was driving on the sidewalk and could not turn around. I finally got out of there and still hear about that one today. <BR> <BR>Another time we were entering the border at Lichtenstein. I went to the money changer to get money. I slid a Swiss note under the window. The lady looked at me strangely and slid the note back. I then found out that the currency in Lichenstein is Swiss. <BR> <BR>Out first trip to the Octoberfest was while I was in the Army and we had no money. We went to Munich with another couple. We found the place for the fest and saw a booth for tickets. We bought four tickets, expensive, and went inside. The building was all food stuff. No beer. We asked how to get the to beer and the man told us it was next door. This was a food convention, home show. The Octoberfest entry was free. Once we got inside to the fest we went to the Lowenbrau tent. All the seats in the middle of this large tent were taken up with singing, drunk people. We spotted booths along the side of the tent that did not look crowded. The four of us went to one and found a nice uncrowded place to sit. Ordered a beer. Started drinking. Nice guy in next table asked what company we were with. We said US Army. He laughed. Seemed we were in a private booth Lowenbrau clients and there was a guard at entrance to the booth. The guard was probably on break when we steped in. Anyway, we had great free beer and a nice time compliments of the lowenbrau people. <BR> <BR>Enough, this could go on forever.....

Jen

Maira, I did the exact same thing! <BR> <BR>But the one instance that really stands out was my first morning in Paris, on my first trip to Europe, twenty years old and not very confident. We had been in England for almost two weeks, but that had been easy -- same language, similar culture, and relatives to stay with. The night before we had taken the night ferry from England, and then an early morning train into Paris. We had not slept all night, and we were hungry and feeling a bit homesick. So first things first, we needed to change some money. We found a bank, a very posh, intimidating place. A woman in the bank approached us, even smiling, and asked us something in French, probably something as threatening as, "May I help you?" So surprised was I to have someone address me in a language I couldn't understand, that my jaw dropped open, speechless, and I'm sure there were tears in my eyes. Never have I wanted to go home as much as I did in that moment, and I felt like a fool. She kind of rolled her eyes and asked again in English. <BR> <BR>The crazy thing is, I'm from Canada. My traveller's cheques were bilingual -- I could have just read from them "Cheques de Voyages?" The women must've thought I was nuts, crying over my traveller's cheques! <BR> <BR>

karie

These are so funny. Who of us hasn't smugly said something in another language, so pleased at doing so, having just spent 45 seconds trying to compose it in our mind so that we get it just right, throwing our shoulders back as we smugly rattle it off, and then staring horrified as the person in front of us rattles off an incomprehensible (long!) question in reply. We forget we have to understand and reply. So then we just humbly bow our head and mumble something in English. Or we realize we have just asked for a grenade instead of a frozen drink! <BR>I think my "moment" may have been in San Gimignano, as a very small trattoria filled with locals, and I ordered carpaccio as my entree, and seeing it pink...red!...in the cold light of day, staring at it on my plate as all the locals in the restaurant smile my way, realizing that yet another American has ordered something she'd rather not eat! Or the "pudding" in Dublin for breakfast...hmmmmm..... Doesn't it all make you so much more understanding and sympathetic of those of other cultures in our own country? I know that I now have a much larger heart when I'm with people who are coming from another culture and trying so hard to make their way here in America! Guess that's what travel is all about! Thanks, Neal.

Ginny

Two more instances: <BR> <BR>1. My husband and I were taking the ferry back to Naples from Ischia, just to make sure we were on the right ferry my husband asked, "Questa borsa partenze a Pozzouli?" (Does this "purse" go to Pozzouli?) Oops, should have been "barca" (boat).. <BR> <BR>2. We were in our local restaurant in a small town in Sicily, we wanted to have some "Bruschetta", we asked for <BR>(Bru-ssshet-a), the waiter laughed and said, "Oh, so you want a plate of Mafia boss?"...he said that should be (Bru-sketta)...so, next time you want the appetizer, and not the Mafia boss remember the correct pronunciation...

David

Before my first trip to Paris I was set on learning enough French to get by. For 6 months I studied French and listened to French tapes. My wife already knew some French from 4 years of French in High school and College. So, no problem right? Wrong. Two incidents still stand out in my mind- <BR> <BR>My wife and I were shopping in a major department store and decided to eat lunch at a little sandwich shop inside the store. The menu's were posted on the wall, so we were just to walk up to the counter, read off the menu and order. No problem right? Wrong. On the menu was a club sandwich. I think to myself "this will be easy". So I blirt out "club sandwich s'il vous plait", thinking I'm done ordering, I move aside when I hear the server ask me something in French that I didn't understand. I just say "club sandwich?" again. He repeats what he said...I still don't understand. I look at him and say "all I want is a club sandwich", (hopeing he will realize I'm an idiot and help me out, if he can). He turns to a co-worker and shrugs saying something about "anglais", and chuckles, then turns to me and repeats what he said, again. Suddenly, I don't want a club sandwich. I mean for some reason ordering a club sandwich has turned a little too complicated, so I just look at the menu, find something easy to say and order a "roastbeef sandwich". Then he turns to me and asks "are you sure you don't want a club sandwich?" in perfect English. <BR> <BR>In the same store (but on a different day), my wife and I are looking at some lead crystal and things. We stop for a moment to talk to one another face to face when a very proper sales woman walks up to us and asks us something in French. My and wife and I for some reason are caught off guard (our little brains couldn't interpret fast enough), so we look at each other directly in each others eyes and bust out laughing. Needless to say, the sales woman stormed off...We both felt bad about it, but we didn't even know how to apoligize. <BR> I've never felt so much like an idiot before than when we went to Paris, but I feel it was my fault since I really didn't know enough of the French language. I learned my lesson. It was a humbling experience. It made me realize how isolated we are as Americans...and you know, after all of that- we still had a great time.

uppityitgoes

up up and away!