I have
observed over the years that European countries share some commonalities that
set them apart from our American society.
Traveling in Europe is at the same time familiar and foreign. Traffic signs, for instance, tend to be
understandable to most Americans, the exception being all those squiggly lines
the Brits paint on their roads. Even the
word “Stop” on the recognizable red hexagon sign appears in some countries
where English is not the official language.
But it is the differences I would like to explore in this post.
I have
decided that all countries (sometimes cities within the countries) can be
divided into two main catagories: used-toilet-paper-in-the-toilet countries,
and used-toilet-paper-in-the-trash countries.
Ewww! I hear you through the digital expanse as you ponder this. If you want to travel outside the U.S., you
will need to learn how to handle this. We
spent one night in Thessaloniki, Greece.
It was a nice hotel with all the modern conveniences one would
expect. The room and furnishings were
very nice, the included breakfast was superb, but the toilet paper had to go in
the little trash can. It is not their
fault. Their plumbing would, no doubt,
handle the extra load, but the old city system will not. This is the only Greek city I have been in,
so I do not know how the rest of the country ranks in this area. Albania, our next stop, is pretty much
exclusively a toilet-paper-in-the-trash country. They also are a
trash-anyplace-you-feel-like-throwing-it country, except in the better
neighborhoods where everyone takes pride in keeping “their” portion of sidewalk
and street cleaned and swept.
Traffic
procedures and expectations is another area of difference
for which traveling
Americans must adjust. In the U.S., the
pedestrian is sacrosanct (with the exception of a few places like New York
City). Not so in most of Europe. In Albania, one must grab the hands of any
little ones in his charge, look both ways, estimate the approximate arrival
time of the closest vehicle headed his direction, and stop off the curb at his
own risk. If a person is walking down a
narrow cobblestone street with no sidewalk available and a car approaches, he
must move to the side as far as possible.
If that move is not made quickly enough, he will be encouraged by the
blast of the car’s horn. There are,
interestingly enough, signs indicating the presence of crosswalks, though they
seem to carry about the same amount of meaning as stop signs, which is no
meaning at all. Pretty much the same
attitude exists in Italy, though I noticed bus drivers stopped for pedestrians
waiting at a crosswalk. In the U.K., of course, one must learn to look to the
right for approaching traffic, and that’s not as easy as it sounds. Ingrained habits are difficult to modify.
Let me put
in a good word for a traffic pattern device many Americans would likely resist,
mostly out of ignorance. The traffic
circle, or roundabout, is common in Europe and I have grown to love them. They likely were introduced as a means of
handling multiple roads meeting at one intersection. Most American roads are on a grid pattern, a
situation easily handled by our current stop sign or traffic light system. The huge advantage to the roundabout is that
no vehicles have to stop and wait for a light to change, even when there is no
other traffic for miles. The roundabout
does require some courtesy, which may immediately rule out any chance of them
being successful in the U.S., but along with a small dose of patience the
roundabout is a great way to keep traffic moving.
The last
difference I would like to address is eating.
We found it interesting that in the 28 days we were gone to Greece,
Albania, Italy, and England, the only sign of childhood obesity we observed was
at the McDonald’s restaurant in Tuscany.
In Greece and Albania there is a steady diet of fresh vegetables,
especially tomatoes (I don’t want to hear about how they are fruit), fruit, non-processed
meats, and fresh breads. Italy, of
course, offers plenty of pasta choices, and pizza at every turn. Diners in all three countries love taking advantage
of the warm summer weather to eat outside every chance they get. Any restaurant with access to even a few feet
of outside space places a table and some chairs there. For some reason, there are very few problems
with bugs or bees. It’s a dining
experience I much prefer over the normal, noisy inside seating.
In my most
recent post, I described the conditions of a portion of Albania’s population
who are misused, abused, neglected and often despised. First-hand experience is the only way I would
have ever been emotionally connected to what I already knew intellectually. Nobody
can truly appreciate what other people experience without first-hand
observation. I always encourage people
to make travel a priority. Call it a
vacation, a holiday, a mission trip, or visiting friends, just go. Stumble through the learning of a few foreign
words, feel awkward in a room where you are the only one who doesn’t speak the
language, be humbled by the independence and tenacity necessary for everyday
life in a country that has not been taken over by a nanny state. Save your money. Take a trip.
Don’t stay at the Hilton or even the Best Western. Ride a bus, take a train, board a ferry, rent
a car, walk. Experience another part of
the world. You’ll return with a much
greater appreciation for others and their circumstances. Can’t afford overseas travel? Ride a Greyhound bus to L.A. Sit on the bench with everyone else waiting
for the bus. Strike up a conversation
with the folks across the aisle. Examine
your feelings as you stand in that bus station in L.A. Just step out of your comfort zone and learn
something.
Next time:
What I learned from all those old buildings.
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