Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Reflections on Familiarity

When I started this blog over two years ago to document my trip to Southeast Asia, I capped off the trip with an extensive analysis on what I learned. The following year, I did the same for Greece. This year may actually prove to be the most challenging analysis because places like Paris and Amsterdam are hardly as exotic as the Mekong Delta. In a sense, that's what makes it interesting. As a traveler, western Europe is very "safe." You don't need to brush your teeth with bottled water or pop pepto-bismol before every questionable meal. Let's break each region down -- one by one.

As stated in the very first entry of this trip, I had been to Paris before, but never on my own. I had my parents to guide me through the metros, and more importantly, to pay for my food and admission to museums. For having such a sprawling network of subway and light rail lines, we were able to easily navigate the city. The advent of phone apps made this an extremely easy task. I didn't even need to carry a metro map with me, thus making us look that less touristy.



While I wouldn't claim to sound like a native-speaker, my french is pretty decent. I used it a fair amount while in Paris, and one of the most interesting things about France to me, is that nobody ever initiates in English (and this includes all the major tourist spots). Paris is probably in the top 5 international destinations for tourists, and one would think English would be the go-to language at these sites. Yet, despite my accent sounding more Milwaukee than Marseilles, there wasn't a single time in Paris that someone switched over to English to "help" me whether it be buying Versailles tickets, ordering a sandwich, or checking in to our hotel with my unfortunately German sounding last name. It's just an interesting cultural pride thing that seems unique to France. Obviously, it's their country and their language, so I can't fault them too much.

It wasn't long ago that Americans were wearing Canadian flag pins on their clothes in an attempt to lie low in countries like France. This seems to be an outdated perception of French attitudes toward us. They probably still think we're a bunch of idiots, but we seem to be far less obnoxious and rude in groups than the Eastern Europeans. Nobody was terribly friendly to us, but they weren't hostile either. That's pretty much like the entire northeast U.S.

Moving on to Belgium, I received a lesson on just how divided a tiny country can be. Wikipedia tells me Belgium is no bigger than the state of Maryland. While in Brussels, people spoke french, so I spoke french back. In fact, I probably used more french here than anywhere else, as I had to explain to numerous people that the ticketing machines for the tram weren't working. After a short (and emphasis on short) train ride from Brussels to Bruges, I assumed (incorrectly) that people would still be speaking French. I ordered a waffle from a small stand one morning and the worker immediately asked why I was speaking french. I wanted to ask what language I should be speaking, but rather than sound ignorant, I told him I was practicing. He responded by saying that people in Bruges know at least four different languages and that people in the south (aka 40 miles away) are too stupid to learn anything besides French. From then on, we just used English. Apparently they speak Flemish up north, which is like Dutch, but . . . different.

It was at this point in the trip, where we found out just how difficult it was to find a meal that didn't contain ham. This is something I hadn't noticed before on my trips to Europe. All joking aside, this was a legitimate problem. Compared to menus at restaurants in the U.S., Bruges, in particular, had the worst selection for food. While there were numerous restaurants, they all pretty much had the same over-priced, non-appetizing food. Belgium is known for mussels, and I am known for not liking such things, especially when they cost €30. The first night in Bruges, we ended up eating at an "Italian" restaurant. It's in quotes because, for unexplained reasons, European countries struggle with replicating food of their neighbors despite their close proximity. The moral of that story is that the pizza Nicole ordered had generous slices of ham on it. I found an online forum where someone had asked why people in Belgium/Lux./Netherlands eat so much pork, and the best response I found was, "There are other kinds of meat?" I guess it's just a regional preference. I thought maybe they had a strong pork lobby or something.

Rounding out the trip, we have Amsterdam -- a city known for legalized marijuana, legalized prostitution, and a penchant for ham. The trifecta of sin. While there was a lot of activity on the streets with drinking and smoking, it didn't seem to be a dangerous city. The city, in many aspects, was a bit of a disappointment though. It seemed that everyone I knew who had visited this city had wonderful things to say about it. The canal shown here kind of summarizes the unexpected views we were afforded. And perhaps part of our problem was that we had just come from Bruges -- another town with (much more photogenic) canals. My description above may make Amsterdam sound like hell on earth, but surprisingly enough, I did enjoy my time there. The day we rented bicycles was possibly my favorite day of the trip. It wasn't a particularly nice day in terms of weather or photography, but I felt that we were experiencing the city as Amsterdamers do. We biked to a park that probably few tourists know about. I ordered falafel from a stand and we played midget golf. Basically we spent the entire day with the Dutch as opposed to other tourists, and that's what made it unique.

All in all, we visited three very different places. The first is a major city full of countless things to see and do, the second is almost the opposite. Bruges doesn't necessarily have any sites, but the entire atmosphere of the town is special in that it gives you that feeling of being in Old Europe, as if you were in Epcot. And our final city was a cross between Portland, Venice, and Las Vegas: a deadly combination, but we were able to experience it safely. And that's what I always try and strive for in a trip -- to experience things as people in that country do. In Belgium, we dipped our fries in mayo instead of ketchup, in Paris I ordered a glass of red wine (the sacrifices I make), and in Amsterdam we used bikes as transport. (I bet you thought I was going to say we smoked a lot of pot. Hmph.) And let's not forget that we also ate lots of ham (no matter how hard we tried to avoid it). There are just some things they don't tell you in the guide books.



No comments:

Post a Comment