I’ve been lucky enough to do quite a bit of travelling in my life. As a family, we travelled all over Europe when I was just a lad, and recently I’ve had the opportunity to visit more exotic places like India and Hawaii. What I’ve learned from my travels is that the key to a great experience is to leave your predispositions on the airplane and commit completely to the culture; eat like the locals eat, travel like the locals travel, and – provided you’re skiing in France – wear a fart bag.
One of the things I learned very quickly is how much people appreciate travelers who make a genuine effort. Americans get a bad wrap by Parisians for bustling about in their “Born in the USA” leather jackets by Wilsons and asking random people where the nearest McDonalds is and, when they find one, spending an inordinate amount of time holding up the line while trying to order a Quarter Pounder. To be fair, these people should get a bad wrap anywhere including back here in the US of Fuckin’ A. While every culture is different, I find that by and large, if you simply make an effort and show a some respect for the local culture, people will be very accepting of you.
But everywhere you go is different, of course. In Europe, they like it when you speak the language or admire the beauty of the country. In India, they love it when you show enthusiasm for how batshit crazy the place is. This particular anecdote will ring louder for the software developers in the audience, but one afternoon while I was in India, I was chatting with a manager at my old company and remarked how amazing it was that given the hierarchical structure of their culture, that the traffic is so chaotic. “In most things, we use the Waterfall method. In driving, we use the Agile method.”
On the other hand, the Dutch just like to prove that they know something you don’t, so all you have to do in the Netherlands is ask questions. Don’t overdo it, though; the Dutch don’t suffer fools lightly. For example; I am fluent in Dutch but don’t spend enough time there to understand the rail system the way they do. So, I rarely ask for help with the trains in Dutch; if I do, they treat me like I’m one step left of an amoeba. If I ask in English, I’ll be politely guided through every step of the process. After all, it would be impossible for an American to understand that intricacies of their highly sophisticated system.
The French, I’ve come to understand, only resent people who don’t try to speak French. You don’t have to speak much of it or speak it very well; just make an effort, and they will be fine. I’ve never had a single experience with the “disdainful French”; in fact, I’ve had more than a few discussions with wait staff at restaurants who insist on speaking (a very broken) English to me, and I insist on speaking (a very broken) French in response. This particular case is more polite than it is effective.
French is perhaps the most glorious sounding language on the planet; I’d love to speak it fluently, but am only conversant at infant-level French. Nevertheless, I find it very important to familiarize myself with the most important phrases I’ll need when travelling there. In an effort to lend some assistance to those in the community who are joining us in Lille for Keepers Tour 2013 this year, I offer the following Quick Start Guide. And, always remember Rule #89.
A general expression of surprise:
Qu’esque c’est le fuck avec ça?
An acknowledgement of someone’s not inconsiderable skill on the bike:
Pas bad.
You can close down a misunderstanding with a simple phrase like,
C’est la meme chose thing.
Being amenable with a choice,
Je suis OK avec that.
Asking a mate how s/he is doing:
Qu’esque c’est up?
When intimidating your riding mates:
Laisse tomber le hammer.
Finally, when referring to whomever wins Roubaix this year,
Il est une homme bad ass, n’est pas?
See you on the flip side in France. Vive la Vie Velominatus.
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Frank,
With regard to the lack of French disdain, perhaps they've mellowed. In the mid 1970's during my high school years I lived just outside of Brussels. I'll never forget the time my brother and I were ordering dinner in a restaurant in Paris. Half way through the order, the waiter, without a word, turned on his heel and walked directly into the kitchen. A few moments later he returned with the entire kitchen staff and most of the waiters to whom he loudly (and disdainfully) proclaimed, "Regardez ces américains qui parlent français avec un accent belge. Merveilleux!"
I've found pointing and waving my hands about gets results. Just not in France.
I did, however, avoid a 31e fine at the train station the other evening by feigning ignorance and claiming Australianism as to why I hadn't punched my ticket... how was I supposed to know that?
@the Engine That'll be just like the Auld Alliance. With fewer people with shit all over them.
When traveling, I subscribe to the "don't be a typical American douchebag". Regardless of wether I feebly attempt the local language or not, I've found that just being nice goes a long way. We were in Ireland right when there were all the Anti Bush protests before we headed back into Iraq, and all the B&B's that we stayed at and all the locals that we interacted with, realized that we were just like them. Regular folk just having a good time.
Panama though, that place kinda unnerved me. Not every day you have a couple Columbian drug smugglers pull up a chair at your table and share a beer with you, then ask if you'd be interested in a "business opportunity". And the monkeys. Don't like monkeys off leash.
I'm surprised I wasn't committed when I was in France this past September. French people don't like it when you tell them that you're a pineapple. They also don't get it why you can only count to ten and conjugate verbs. I go we go they go she goes he goes they go and so on. Given that my nation's second official language is French you'd think that we could come up with more effective teaching methods than a talking fucking pineapple.
@TBONE
let's try that again:
talking fucking pineapple
@the Engine
As in "haw Jimmy, gonnae gie us a scooby whaur Roobay is? Ah heard it's aroon here somewhere. Roobay? Ye ken where aw they bhoys ride their bikes oan they shite roads? " Whit dae ye mean can ah no speak English, whit the fuck dae ye think ah'm talking ya wee gauloise puffin', baguette munchin', beret wearin' frog."
@Stu
I was working the Army ER one time during internship and had a young solider come in with his very young Korean wife and she was having some back pain per the husband's report. I tried to ask her if it hurt when she urinated and she did not understand a word I said so I asked her 19 year old husband to ask her if it hurt when she urinated. He proceeded to yell, at the top of his voice, each word very slowly, in perfect English, "DOES ... IT... HUUUURT ... WHEN ... YOU ... PEE?" The poor wife was just cowering in the chair by that point. I guess love isn't only blind but deaf too.
@TBONE
A talking fucking pineapple in fucking spats. Magnifique.
cheese eating surrender monkeys
Je suis bilange au cause de forces canadienne, donc, je ne parle bien en francias. Si vous avez une question en francias, palrez lentenment s.v.p. Merci, la grande douche. Allez vous faire du cyclisme pendant le weekend? Moi, probablement.
Talking fucking pineapple = +1