Culturally diverse. . .

When people say that every culture is different they really aren’t wrong. There are similarities of course but it’s never truly the same. The same expressions can mean very different things depending on which country you are in. Most people will remember the HSBC advert where they point out subtle cultural differences that can cause offence but that are so simple people would never have thought that they could be in the least bit offensive. These nuances can often be lost in translation and if you are not aware of them then there can be consequences. As I and I’m sure you are aware of.

One thing that always gets lost in translation is sarcasm. I am like many other British citizens a fairly sarcastic human being. However, I have noticed on my various travels that sarcasm doesn’t travel as well as I do. In fact as soon as you leave the British coast line it stops, takes one look at the big wide world and then flees with its tail between its legs back to England its haven. It is commonly known that sarcasm has been labelled the lowest form of wit, a view that I am highly opposed to, but this does not mean that it should be used by the English only. I have tried a few times to use sarcasm abroad but it has usually ended fairly badly. I remember once when poor sarcasm took an appalling hit. I was on my gap year in Mauritania, Africa and I had a week off work so a few friends and I went to Senegal for a holiday. We stayed in St. Louis in a lovely little hotel and had a wonderful time. But like all things good before we knew it, it was time to go back. Travelling to and from Senegal was a long journey. It entailed a bush taxi, which was a normal sized taxi but an abnormal amount of passengers. It was like playing en epic 16 hour long game of sardines but without the hiding, counting, excitement and secrecy. No one really got any sleep and so when we got to the border, we were sleep deprived, unwashed and fairly grumpy. We were 5 girls travelling by ourselves so unfortunately we were getting a fair amount of attention. The driver parked up in this enormous car park, full of hundreds of other cars, and got out to stretch his legs. A man sidles over to our taxi and I am unfortunate enough to be in the front seat. He looks at us and asks me if I would swap myself for eight camels. I decide this would be a good time to feign sleep. The man is however insistent and continues to ask how many camels it would take. I answer and say that I am taken but thank you. He chooses not to hear this and offers me a goat as well. As he says it he holds a kid up to the window and states that this is a goat. I answered him sarcastically saying “no it’s a camel”. He looks down at the goat in disbelief and says “no, no it’s a goat look”. To which I respond that “no it’s a camel”, because I was at this point in a fairly bad mood. The man starts openly laughing at me and my friends join in. He manages to splutter out “it really is a goat” and I accept that sarcasm will not help me anymore so I say yes I had always known that it was a goat and at no point did I actually believe it was a camel. He disagrees and says that no I was saying it was a camel aren’t I stupid. I try to explain sarcasm to him but he and my friends are laughing too hard to hear the very pathetic explanation for my apparent stupidity. The only thing that can be said is Molly-0 and goat man-1.

Another cultural aspect which can never truly be translated is driving! Wherever you go in the world you find many variations of the same problem; driving! I myself cannot drive, which I am often very grateful, but I have witnessed some of the greatest driving blunders. It is true that most people think that they are the world’s greatest drivers. It is also true that every country believes that their drivers are superior to anyone else’s in the world. One of my favourite examples of this are the French who not only think they are the best but from personal experience seem to have a complete disregard for anyone else on the road. One of their specialities seems to be parking. No space is too big and more importantly no space is too small for a Frenchman. Having just witnessed a women try and park in a space that seemed to be perfect for her car, it was neither too big nor too small. She managed to manoeuvre into the space. However once there she decided that she wasn’t quite straight enough in her perfect space. So she proceeded to move drive forwards knocking the car in front and then reverse knocking the car behind and then repeated this sequence several times. Once she was in why did she straighten up? She seemed to be perfectly parked. It is my belief that the French take part in a special game known only to them in which they win a certain amount of points depending on how many cars they manage to hit. The goal being that at the end of the month whoever has the most points wins road supremacy. If this is not an application for the iPhone I believe they have seriously missed out on a good opportunity and should consider making it one. French drivers:1 and Apple:0

To be continued. . .