Different - Not the Same

Different:  Not the same.  (Ed. Note: Duh.)

It has been great to see the world from a different viewpoint.  This is one of the most compelling reasons to travel - it's natural to slip into the mindset that the way I live my life in my home country is the only way, the best way to live life.  While I enjoy where I live I also get to see that a lot of other people are perfectly happy under a completely different system.  This is exactly what The Fellowship has done for me - it makes me consider doing something different.

Where I'm from I hop into my large car and drive to a huge retail establishment where I can quickly and easily buy everything I want at very low prices.  There's a lot to recommend with that system - it's very convenient and I get a bang for my buck.  In Barcelona I would get up every morning and do the shopping - bread and rolls at a bakery; fruit and vegetables at the market; a cheese shop; a meat shop; and some sundries at a larger store.  I don't think it was the cheapest way to get my stuff or the quickest but it was a very satisfying exercise.  I interacted with people who seemed to enjoy their work, to take pride in their products,  and were making a living.  I'm not sure I would thrive under such a system if I had to do it all the time but it gave me pause: there are other ways to do things.

In France there's a pride in country-ship, so to speak.  The French are more reserved than Americans which I think can be confused with arrogance.  And the French, in my opinion, are of the opinion that when you're in our country you speak our language.  Fair enough.  I was trying to imagine a French guy walking into a Seven Eleven in my home town and spewing out a ration of French.  THAT would go over big.  

I don't speak English when I enter an establishment.  I greet my host in their native language and do a lot of pointing.  I have never been treated with anything but respect and kindness.  I do believe that an attempt to be considerate of a different culture is appreciated.  

Yesterday we went to a small brasserie that had a menu that I could sort of interpret.  I greeted the proprietress and pointed at a sandwich and a salad.  What I was given to understand was that there were no salads.  I pointed at a piece of pizza - same reaction, and the proprietress bundled off cheerfully to help someone else.  In efficient America, at this point, I might have suggested that she just tell us what was available but she wasn't inclined to do so.  Eventually, we got something ordered and had a lovely meal in the sun on a public square.  It wasn't a cold reaction - it was a bit formal.  I didn't feel like I was treated poorly - it was a bit more work than it had to be, but so what?

We keep walking around and saying: "Can you imagine doing that at home?"  

For some reason their aren't toilet seats on public toilets in France.  THAT I don't get.