Where were you when you were yelled at?
Mar 16th, 2004, 12:40 PM
#41
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That is funny, Marija, this has happened to me twice.
The first time, my mother, Linda, and I were in Zurich. She wanted to look inside a very large Protestant cathedral, but we forgot it was Sunday. There was a service going on and as soon as we walked in a man ushered us to a pew. Well, we had no intention of staying more than 5 minutes in order to see what was going on. We went to exit and the same usher started gesturing to go back and made some remarks in German (my mother speaks German). My mother said to the man in German, "Sorry, we thought this was a synogoge. We are English Jews." The usher started to bow and said in English, "Oh, forgive....forgive." (My mother is as Jewish as the deceased Princess Margaret.)
The second time, we were all in London, on holiday to see Aunt Pat and Uncle Terry. One of Terry's relatives from Shropshire was visiting and wanted to see St. Paul's. Of course, it was Sunday and services were going on. Terry said, "Let's not," but Aunt Pat is a force to be reconed with. She marched us all up the steps up St. Paul's and into the church, with the ushers pushing us towards the pews. Aunt Pat stood her ground and announced to the usher at her elbow, "We are showing our relatives from Shropshire the interior of the church. We will only be a few minutes, my good man, now unhand me and stand aside." The usher looked frightened.
Did I ever tell you all the time Aunt Pat nicked the flower bouquet from a table at St. Andrew's Old Course in Scotland because she said they charged too much for tea????
We are having a blizzard in Philadelphia today. I am snowed in and very bored. Can't you tell?
The first time, my mother, Linda, and I were in Zurich. She wanted to look inside a very large Protestant cathedral, but we forgot it was Sunday. There was a service going on and as soon as we walked in a man ushered us to a pew. Well, we had no intention of staying more than 5 minutes in order to see what was going on. We went to exit and the same usher started gesturing to go back and made some remarks in German (my mother speaks German). My mother said to the man in German, "Sorry, we thought this was a synogoge. We are English Jews." The usher started to bow and said in English, "Oh, forgive....forgive." (My mother is as Jewish as the deceased Princess Margaret.)
The second time, we were all in London, on holiday to see Aunt Pat and Uncle Terry. One of Terry's relatives from Shropshire was visiting and wanted to see St. Paul's. Of course, it was Sunday and services were going on. Terry said, "Let's not," but Aunt Pat is a force to be reconed with. She marched us all up the steps up St. Paul's and into the church, with the ushers pushing us towards the pews. Aunt Pat stood her ground and announced to the usher at her elbow, "We are showing our relatives from Shropshire the interior of the church. We will only be a few minutes, my good man, now unhand me and stand aside." The usher looked frightened.
Did I ever tell you all the time Aunt Pat nicked the flower bouquet from a table at St. Andrew's Old Course in Scotland because she said they charged too much for tea????
We are having a blizzard in Philadelphia today. I am snowed in and very bored. Can't you tell?
Mar 16th, 2004, 01:29 PM
#44
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My friend and I got caught staring at a homeless man in Paris. We couldn't believe he was sitting on a box in broad daylight with no pants on. Needless to say, EVERYTHING was exposed. As we gasped, he threw his sandwich at us and cussed in French!
Mar 16th, 2004, 01:51 PM
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In '97 I spent a bit of time in Barcelona and the second week I was there I went into the local Mas I Mas (corner mini-supermarket) and bought some groceries (important note: when you check out, they just hand you the bags and you bag your own groceries). I got about a half block away when I saw and heard one of the stock clerks yelling and running down the street towards me. He grabbed me and told me to come back to the store. I went back in and the cashier started screaming at me. My Spanish was not stellar at the time and I explained that I didn't understand a word she was saying. She ripped the groceries out of my hands, rifled through the bags, handed them back to me and gave me a "get the hell out of here" gesture. It turned out that the lady in line behind me accused me of taking some of her groceries, which were quickly stacking up as I was trying to bag my own.
For the rest of my time in Barcelona, that cashier was always mildly hostile whenever I shopped there.
For the rest of my time in Barcelona, that cashier was always mildly hostile whenever I shopped there.
Mar 16th, 2004, 01:57 PM
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Poor Mimi!!! How bad is your blizzard? I think I will email my sister in Cambridge. She goes pale after 8 inches 
Jenna, OMG, this has happened to me too in Lisbon!!!!!!! And I have written about this before on this site.
In September of 2000, my current husband, Keith, and I were visiting Lisbon. We were on our way down the steep hill from the Se in Alfama district. We both saw this obese homeless woman at the same time. I couldn't believe my eyes and said to myself, "No, that can't be a giant, white exposed bottom in front of that little church, it just can't be." My husband grabbed my arm and gasped the Gasp Of All Gasps and screamed, "Oh....My....God...that woman is taking a pee in front of that church....and I can see her.....*&^%!!!!" The woman was bent over, her back to us, with her PANTS AROUND HER ANKLES, a gushing stream running down her legs onto the pavement!!!!! Well, I was shocked, but my Keith was absolutely disgusted that she was urinating in front of a church. I pulled him away and said she was homeless and probably mentally ill. He still gasps to this day if I mention it.
Jenna, OMG, this has happened to me too in Lisbon!!!!!!! And I have written about this before on this site.
In September of 2000, my current husband, Keith, and I were visiting Lisbon. We were on our way down the steep hill from the Se in Alfama district. We both saw this obese homeless woman at the same time. I couldn't believe my eyes and said to myself, "No, that can't be a giant, white exposed bottom in front of that little church, it just can't be." My husband grabbed my arm and gasped the Gasp Of All Gasps and screamed, "Oh....My....God...that woman is taking a pee in front of that church....and I can see her.....*&^%!!!!" The woman was bent over, her back to us, with her PANTS AROUND HER ANKLES, a gushing stream running down her legs onto the pavement!!!!! Well, I was shocked, but my Keith was absolutely disgusted that she was urinating in front of a church. I pulled him away and said she was homeless and probably mentally ill. He still gasps to this day if I mention it.
Mar 16th, 2004, 03:11 PM
#49
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This is a good thread...
Hubby and I and another couple were visiting Rome and had just been through St Peter's. As we headed down to the crypts we stopped for some lunch on the lower level. Each of us took a tray and made our way through the cafeteria line. Then we met at a table and sat down to eat. Hubby announces that he didn't notice the fried potatos our friend had gotten. He headed back to stand in line for some of those great looking potatoes but did not get a tray for such a small item. When he got to the "potato lady" and asked for a bowl she announced "No tray - No potatoes" he continued to insist he had waited through the line and wanted only those potatoes and she continued to scream at him "No tray No potatoes"
When he returned to the table he threatened to get a tray, then a bowl of soup, and then spill it right in front of her station. Fortunately we all talked him out of a possible police arrest.
Hubby and I and another couple were visiting Rome and had just been through St Peter's. As we headed down to the crypts we stopped for some lunch on the lower level. Each of us took a tray and made our way through the cafeteria line. Then we met at a table and sat down to eat. Hubby announces that he didn't notice the fried potatos our friend had gotten. He headed back to stand in line for some of those great looking potatoes but did not get a tray for such a small item. When he got to the "potato lady" and asked for a bowl she announced "No tray - No potatoes" he continued to insist he had waited through the line and wanted only those potatoes and she continued to scream at him "No tray No potatoes"
When he returned to the table he threatened to get a tray, then a bowl of soup, and then spill it right in front of her station. Fortunately we all talked him out of a possible police arrest.
Mar 16th, 2004, 03:31 PM
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In San Francisco while exiting a tour bus: a woman yelled at us that tourists like us were ruining the city. Our bus driver yelled back at her "Yah you stupid B* by providing jobs for people like him ."
Mar 16th, 2004, 03:32 PM
#52
On our first trip to Paris in 1979 we were walking through the Louvre.
A room was closed for renovations and the entrance was blocked by a rope.
I looked into the room and saw a morning streak of light shining through the window and accross the floor of the room.
I couldn't resist. I stepped around the pole at one end of the rope, walked slightly into the room and took one of those prize photos.
It's enlarged, framed and hanging in our dining room not far from photos taken in Venice and Rome.
Needless to say I did not escape unscathed.
A room was closed for renovations and the entrance was blocked by a rope.
I looked into the room and saw a morning streak of light shining through the window and accross the floor of the room.
I couldn't resist. I stepped around the pole at one end of the rope, walked slightly into the room and took one of those prize photos.
It's enlarged, framed and hanging in our dining room not far from photos taken in Venice and Rome.
Needless to say I did not escape unscathed.
Mar 16th, 2004, 04:01 PM
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On our way to Mont St. Michael we stopped in the parking lot of a German cemetary. As we walked toward the monument a German caretaker came sprinting after us wildly waving his arms and yelling. I had a back pack with me and he grabbed it from me and looked inside and started yelling at me that I had no respect for the dead soldiers. He pointed to a sign that said no picnicing I had bottled water and a left over sandwich in my bag. I was embarassed that I had offended him. I returned to the car and put my bag away. I found out later that many visitors ate their lunch at the back of the cemetery while looking at MSM in the distance.
Mar 16th, 2004, 05:37 PM
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Luckily, just once (so far)....
Summer of 2000 in Paris for the first time with my husband and 6 and 7 year old children. Walking down some street, we passed a florist with a display of Venus Flycatcher plants. I had never seen one other than in a picture, and pointed at it to show the kids. Immediately, the florist himself came flying out of the shop yelling, "Ne pas touche!" My French is rudimentary at best, but I definitely knew what he meant and beat a hasty retreat...
Annette
Summer of 2000 in Paris for the first time with my husband and 6 and 7 year old children. Walking down some street, we passed a florist with a display of Venus Flycatcher plants. I had never seen one other than in a picture, and pointed at it to show the kids. Immediately, the florist himself came flying out of the shop yelling, "Ne pas touche!" My French is rudimentary at best, but I definitely knew what he meant and beat a hasty retreat...
Annette
Mar 16th, 2004, 05:40 PM
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In 1995, my father and I were on a 50th reunion WWII tour w/ his army unit. We were in a small German town where my father was first stationed. As I aimed my camara to take a picture of a hillside village, I heard shouting from the field in front. I was standing in the street and waved to the farmer gesturing from his tractor. I continued to take pictures, but the farmer turned his tractor towards us waving his pitchfork and shouting, "Verboten." (Sorry, if I spelled it incorrectly.) I still don't know what we were doing wrong, but the farmer was definitely mad! He chased us down the street yelling the entire way!
Mar 16th, 2004, 06:01 PM
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Getting off a double decker bus in London, we were standing by the door. When a tiny little old lady started yelling at everyone standing behind her to watch out else she be trod upon!
Since I was directly behind her, I felt quite nervous that I would somehow, accidentally, step on her and squash her. Quite nerve wracking, I must say~
Since I was directly behind her, I felt quite nervous that I would somehow, accidentally, step on her and squash her. Quite nerve wracking, I must say~
Mar 16th, 2004, 07:24 PM
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I have plenty of show biz yelling-match stories involving plenty of colorful characters but I'll save those for my memoirs. For a foreign yell, Campo de' Fiori comes to mind.
I was on assignment for a travel magazine many years ago and Rome's famous outdoor farmer's market was a required shot. This was my first time there in any official capacity and it didn't take long to see that vendors weren't particularly excited about having their picture taken (even by a pretty woman who was working for a well-known publication).
Travel magazine photo editors love when you can capture real life with real people but, sometimes, this becomes very tricky business, especially if adults aren't in the mood or young children get in the mix and their parents are nearby. I know the blur factor can erase anyone's identity but nobody else knows when and if I'm manipulating the shutter speed.
After 45 minutes, going from stall to stall and doing my best to get people to let me "in," I felt content with the still-life fruit and veggie results but I knew I hadn't gotten the "real people" money shot.
While standing in the the warm, morning sun and contemplating what to do next, I noticed off the campo an old man walking towards the market pulling a high stack of numerous fruit crates on a rickshaw style cart. I raced to a more discreet position, turned to the old man who was about to enter the sun-filled campo and, immediately after my second release of the shutter, the old man spotted me. He slammed his cart down and walked away from it screaming at the top of his lungs in Italian, all the while pointing at me. Several crates had fallen off his cart and I was horrified.
When I stepped away from the tripod, he went back to his cart and began pulling it towards me, still cursing up a storm at full throttle. I took one step towards my camera and "slam," there went his cart again and off he walked, yelling some more.
My Italian was not great at this point in my career and I had no clue what he was saying but I could tell none of it was good. I stayed away from my tripod as he resumed pulling his cart in my direction. With our eyes locked the entire time, he was soon just three feet away, still talking loudly with a very scolding face.
From the opposite direction came a younger Italian man, gruff looking but quite handsome. He seemed to know the old man and wanted to know what was going on. I was still frozen as the old man said something about my wanting to take his picture while he was working. When the younger man made eye contact with me and smiled, I walked to them and in my best Italian I said I would like to pay the old man for my intrusion. (Tacky, I know, but in order to know tacky, sometimes you have to live it.)
I went for my wallet and pulled out a 100,000 Lire bill (about $50). The old man's face grew softer but he waved his hand to say no. The younger Italian, speaking in his best English said, "he doesn't want your money and he doesn't want his picture taken." I begged forgiveness (I did feel badly) and I pulled out my credentials and explained my situation as best I could. By the end of our conversation the old man was smiling as he shook my hand goodbye. I never got my shot. The fruit and vegetables made the spread.
I was on assignment for a travel magazine many years ago and Rome's famous outdoor farmer's market was a required shot. This was my first time there in any official capacity and it didn't take long to see that vendors weren't particularly excited about having their picture taken (even by a pretty woman who was working for a well-known publication).
Travel magazine photo editors love when you can capture real life with real people but, sometimes, this becomes very tricky business, especially if adults aren't in the mood or young children get in the mix and their parents are nearby. I know the blur factor can erase anyone's identity but nobody else knows when and if I'm manipulating the shutter speed.
After 45 minutes, going from stall to stall and doing my best to get people to let me "in," I felt content with the still-life fruit and veggie results but I knew I hadn't gotten the "real people" money shot.
While standing in the the warm, morning sun and contemplating what to do next, I noticed off the campo an old man walking towards the market pulling a high stack of numerous fruit crates on a rickshaw style cart. I raced to a more discreet position, turned to the old man who was about to enter the sun-filled campo and, immediately after my second release of the shutter, the old man spotted me. He slammed his cart down and walked away from it screaming at the top of his lungs in Italian, all the while pointing at me. Several crates had fallen off his cart and I was horrified.
When I stepped away from the tripod, he went back to his cart and began pulling it towards me, still cursing up a storm at full throttle. I took one step towards my camera and "slam," there went his cart again and off he walked, yelling some more.
My Italian was not great at this point in my career and I had no clue what he was saying but I could tell none of it was good. I stayed away from my tripod as he resumed pulling his cart in my direction. With our eyes locked the entire time, he was soon just three feet away, still talking loudly with a very scolding face.
From the opposite direction came a younger Italian man, gruff looking but quite handsome. He seemed to know the old man and wanted to know what was going on. I was still frozen as the old man said something about my wanting to take his picture while he was working. When the younger man made eye contact with me and smiled, I walked to them and in my best Italian I said I would like to pay the old man for my intrusion. (Tacky, I know, but in order to know tacky, sometimes you have to live it.)
I went for my wallet and pulled out a 100,000 Lire bill (about $50). The old man's face grew softer but he waved his hand to say no. The younger Italian, speaking in his best English said, "he doesn't want your money and he doesn't want his picture taken." I begged forgiveness (I did feel badly) and I pulled out my credentials and explained my situation as best I could. By the end of our conversation the old man was smiling as he shook my hand goodbye. I never got my shot. The fruit and vegetables made the spread.
Mar 16th, 2004, 08:57 PM
#59
My first time in Avignon by that beautiful merry=go-round was a cart with a cute dog perched on it wearing a little coat. I snapped the dog's picture, and out of nowhere, this young gypsy girl demanded I pay for taking the picture. Had she asked nicely, I woud have willingly instead of shouting at me. I left a few centimes beside the cute pup and as I walked away, she kept shouting.
Mar 17th, 2004, 05:31 AM
#60
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In Paris, about 10 years ago. My first trip all by myself. Getting ready to send postcards to everyone. The cashier asked me how many cards, but i misunderstood her, and thought she meant how much. Much, many, in french... Anyway, she finally slapped my hand, grabbed the cards and pointedly counted them. une. deux. trios... Oh, you mean how many? Duh. It was really all i could do not to slap her back.
