Some years back a computer geek friend of mine was working in a small office of a large telecom firm. One day he came under fire for expressing his political opinions. How had he expressed these opinions? By politically, socially, and aggressively worded posters he had in his office. And what did these posters say? “Reunite Gondwanaland” and “Support the Pangaean Liberation Front.”
(I’m in shared house situation – we all rent a room and we’re all strangers. The other three housemates are foreign nationals who are either learning or temporarily living in the UK and end up moving back to their country. Three new guys move in. I get approached by Guy #1 whilst I’m putting my food I’ve just bought away)
Guy #1: “I have an idea!”
Me: “Oh?”
Guy #1: “We should do a HOUSE shop!”
Me: “Erm, we do. For cleaning supplies and toilet paper… And washing liquid and stuff”
Guy #1: “No, a house grocery shop! Like, things we all eat and use! Like milk and butter… And… Erm. Bread! And, you know, staples!”
Me: “Not gonna work, I’m afraid.”
Guy #1: “Why not? It’s perfect!”
Me: “[Guy #2] is vegan, I’m lactose intolerant AND gluten intolerant and [Guy #3] is just… not here. Honestly kinda surprised that he even puts any money in the hard goods kitty”
Guy #1: “Oh, right.”
When I was in the US Navy, my ship did a tour through the Black Sea, visiting ports in Turkey, Romania, Bulgaria, Ukraine, Russia, and Georgia. During the Cold War, almost all of those ports had been unavailable to the US Navy, but this was the early 90s. The Wall was down, the USSR was gone, and the US Navy started visiting port cities in former Warsaw pact countries. This usually ended up being popular with the regular citizens in those cities, because the collapse of the USSR had created a lot of economic uncertainty, and US sailors spend money like water when they’re ashore.
Prior to foreign port visits, US Navy ships print out a little pamphlet about the country and city being visited. These pamphlets usually describe a bit of generic local history, identify local points of interest, explain the relative value of the local currency (roughly 100,000 of the local monopoly money to one US dollar), and try to explain any local customs sailors might not be used to. The pamphlets also included useful words and phrases in the local language, which included phonetic pronunciations.
Very few sailors (of any rank) bothered to read these pamphlets. They’d crowd off the ship at Liberty Call to head for the nearest bars and restaurants, order everything loudly in English, and stagger drunkenly back to the ship late at night. I was one of the few who appreciated the pamphlets- especially the useful words and phrases.
When we visited Odessa, Ukraine, the usual crowd of sailors left the ship and looked around for a bar. For those unfamiliar with the city, the port is several hundred feet lower than the city itself, and all of the businesses were located up a very impressive set of stairs leading up from the port area. The crew eventually figured out they had to climb the steps to find anything worth doing, and began infesting several bars, restaurants, and drink kiosks in close proximity to the top of the steps.
There was a cable car next to the steps which made regular runs up and down, but all the signs were printed using Cyrillic letters, and few of the people running the cable cars or selling tickets spoke much English. So most of the sailors made a few attempts to buy a ticket before giving up and walking up the enormous stairs.
I’d had duty the day we pulled into port, so I’d stayed aboard ship while the rest of the crew went out into town. I heard all about the sights and experiences from shipmates returning from Liberty, and a couple of things were prominently mentioned: the younger male sailors were grousing loudly that the city was full of beautiful women they couldn’t understand, and everyone was exhausted from climbing up and down the stairs to get to anything they were interested in.
I was a junior non-commissioned officer (NCO) and older than most of my shipmates, so I usually went ashore in foreign ports with a small cluster of junior sailors in a (mostly vain) attempt to keep them out of trouble. I tended to avoid the bars and restaurants closest to the ship because they were invariably filled with sailors. I also tended to carry the little pamphlet with me.
A couple of sailors in my little group were complaining about the climb up the stairs. I pointed out the cable car right next to the steps, and they griped about not understanding the signs and not knowing how much of the monopoly-money local currency (snidely referred to as ‘Bongo Bucks’ by most sailors) it took to buy a ticket. I walked over to the ticket booth, pulled out the pamphlet, and asked for six cable car tickets using the useful words and phrases section on the back. I probably sounded like an imbecile, but the man in the ticket booth smiled broadly at my butchering of his language and carefully explained the price (the equivalent of a little less than a dollar). I paid him and thanked him, and led my surprised group onto the cable car for the five-minute ride up the hill to the city proper.
The sailors with me immediately headed toward the bars down the street, but I walked a bit farther to the local park where a small market had been set up. I did a little shopping for some souvenirs and kept trying to use the local language to the best of my ability, then returned to the steps to wait for my shipmates at one of the kiosks there.
Note we were not in uniform. I was wearing a leather jacket and cap, and I’d purchased a couple of Cuban cigars at the market. I sat alone at one of the small tables near the kiosks, drinking the amazingly good brown vodka and smoking a cigar. In retrospect, I probably looked a bit like a local.
Four twenty-something local women walked by and greeted me in Russian. When I returned the greeting, they realized I was American, and a couple of them helpfully corrected my pronunciation. I thanked them in their language, and they all laughed and left. This happened several more times over the next hour or so. By the time my shipmates got tired of drinking and carousing and started heading back to the ship, I had a small group of lovely young local women sitting with me, several of whom were helping me speak Russian.
My fellow sailors were a bit ticked off at this. They were younger and better-looking than I was, and they’d been getting the cold shoulder from most of the local girls all night. Then they found me with a small group of local women laughing and talking and drinking. I said goodnight to the young ladies and escorted my shipmates back to the ship.
The next day, as several of us were getting ready for another excursion into Odessa, several of my companions from the previous night asked me how I’d managed to get six or seven local women to sit and talk with me.
Shipmate: “What the Hell <my name>? How’d you get all those women to hang out with you?”
Me: “I said, ‘Hello’ when they spoke to me.”
Shipmate: “No way! We tried talking to loads of the local girls in <local bar>, but the only ones who’d hang out with us were the hookers. What did you do that’s different?”
Me (shrugging): “I said ‘Hello’ in Russian.”
Shipmates: “That’s it? When did you learn to speak Russian?”
Me (showing the pamphlet): “I started by using this, and asked for help in saying things properly. The young ladies you saw me with last night were happy an American was trying to speak their language, and not just shouting at them in English.”
Shipmates: <amazed>
Very few sailors bothered trying to follow up on what I told them, and similar situations occurred in just about every port. Those of us who at least tried to use the local languages almost always had a better time in foreign ports. When you’re visiting another country, act as if you’re a guest in someone’s home. Being polite and trying your best to speak the local languages usually means a lot fewer hassles from the locals and often gets better prices when bargaining.
This happened way back, when I was in primary school. My brother and I joint a basketball team and we had a game on. The home team wasn’t very sportive though, their principal strategy had their “best” player coming up to the person holding the ball and yell “Hey dude!” in the local slang in their face. Startled, we let go of the ball and the control went to the other team.
We complained to our coach but he could do little and the referee wasn’t doing anything either. During the break, I went to my dad, complaining about this guy. My dad, irritated by the game the other team was playing had a slight smile and told me: “Two can play that game. You speak the local slang here, when he is up in your face again, just yell back “Whassup dude?” I did as advised and the guy was so startled and confused that he had to be taken out of the game. I can’t remember if we won or lost the game but putting the bully out of the game was a victory on its own.
I ordered a product from a tool maker based in the same city as I am using their website. It charged my credit card a few minutes later.
The next day I received the following
==quote==
Good Afternoon [my first name],
This is to inform you that we are not able to process your above order. Our items are not to be exported and as a result, we do not ship to freight forwarders. We have therefore canceled your order. The authorization on your card has been reversed. We do not notify you if your order was cancelled, as the system automatically cancels the order.
==end quote ===
Being local and never having even heard of “freight forwarders” I called to complain.
Seems their system said I was ordering with a stolen credit card. Same name but different billing address. I said double check I’ve lived at the same address since 1985. And it is the billing address on my credit card. Also I asked why their email said I was “freight forwarder” instead of saying there was a problem with my credit card. Also why did I even get an email if the email itself said they do not notify me. I said I was someone else or a letter explaining their reasons.
Shortly afterwards they called me back and said they should not have discussed it with me because it involved someone else’s credit card.
A few days later they called and offered to reinstate my order. No explanation, no apology.
