What Do You Think About A Guidebook?

So I am thinking about writing some sort of guide book on intercultural traveling/living, etc. You might be thinking, "Umm, nice idea girlie, but haven't you heard of Fodor's, Lonely Planet, or Rick Steve's? The concept is a bit--how do you say it--oh yeah: done?"

Because I am not a complete ignoramus, I do actually realize that the guidebook market is essentially saturated with books advising visitors as to which monuments to see, where the most fruitful exchange rates for currency can be located, public transportation tips, and suggestions for room and board in foreign cities. Indeed, I actually use (and thoroughly critique) a number of travel sources myself, so I know that there are a plethora of choices for "traditional" tomes of this variety.

What I think is missing from these helpful traveling companions, however, is some crucial information about some of the intercultural differences which can be found in everyday life when living or traveling elsewhere. Of course, we "need" concrete information in order to enjoy and to "succeed" at a visit to a different country, or countries. These books definitely provide an ample supply of important information.

And, since these sorts of guidebooks typically weigh more than a small dog, I am not criticizing the writers or organizations behind them for "leaving out" information. I realize that choices need to made as to what to include, and it is probably more important that people are informed as to the operational hours of the Louvre rather than be given information as to why my baker treats me with contempt if I do not announce "Bonjour" within two seconds of entering the premises. Of course there is only so much that can be included and really there is an identifiable limit for things that are "crucial" to know. In fact, the books are already way too heavy if you ask me.

No one actually did ask me. But since the topic has come up: if I were an airline, I might consider sending Rick Steve's and the folks at Fodors a basket of fruit or nice bottle of bubbly or something since those barbell-weight books probably lead to more than a few "over the weight limit" charges for travelers whose cumbersome luggage is already stuffed beyond capacity with "comfortable" walking shoes and five different rain coats.

In terms of MY (as yet theoretical) guidebook, it will offer some information pertaining to different cultural affects, cultural traditions, and customs. We all know that stereotypes abound, and that almost any given country is "known" for having certain attitudes and attributes. The anecdotes that people love to acquire and to cultivate while traveling abroad in order to share with family and friends upon their return "home" often serve to re-enforce these stereotypes.

I am not saying that I possess the desire nor the power to debunk stereotypes. I am not a wizard after all. In fact, I do not even believe in wizardry. No offense, Harry Potter.

I just think some breakdown of what day-to-day differences exist might be useful. So here is just a little taste of what my book might include: we have these delightful friends who are a French couple of about our same age. We often talk about the ways the Americans and the French differ in their approach to "small talk." They find it baffling/humorous/asinine that people in America always say, "Hi, how are you doing?" whenever they see anyone at all--friend or stranger.

Their response to this "normal" American greeting, is as follows: "Why do you want to know how I am doing? I don't even know you! It is none of your business how I am doing." And: "Why do you ask that same thing every time I see you during the same day? Isn't one time enough? Why would I be 'doing' any differently two hours later?"

When we told them that no one actually wants you to honestly answer the question, this explanation only served to increase the confusion. We told them that the "normal," and in fact the only acceptable, thing with which to respond is some version of: "Fine thanks, and you?" Their perplexity deepened. They wondered why someone would ask any such question if they really did not want to know the answer. Hearing their perception of this verbal transaction that often occurs multiple times every day, it all did sound rather ridiculous.

On the flip side: French people say "Bonjour" to everyone the first time they see them during a given day. (And, like my baker story from earlier in this entry, if you are a patron in a shop, it is the customer who is responsible for initiating the greeting, not vice-versa like in America. Failure to do so, will earn you some mighty icy glares). After saying "bonjour" to someone, your greeting quota for the day has then been fulfilled. That is to say, if you then see someone again that afternoon--someone to whom you spoke at, say, 9am--you would not say anything to them again unless you had something specific to say. The idea that you could enter a room occupied with only one other person and not say "Hey" or "What's up" or anything, seems pretty strange to me. As an American, I have the urge to say something, to engage in some sort of phattic conversation. But in France, this is idiotic, you already said "good day"--what else is there to say, unless it has substance, unless it serves an identifable purpose?

This parsimonious way with greetings strikes me, as an American, as being a bit unfriendly. And, conversely, our custom of saying: "Hey, how are you?" at every turn strikes the French as being redundant and moronic.

So who is right?

Obviously, no one is "right." But if you were not privy to these cultural traditions, you might be inadvertently offending people left and right. I mean, if you moved to Paris, and you did not KNOW about this whole single-serve bonjour thing, you might spend a few months making non-friends and irritating the oreos out of people.

Not that I did that for, like, four months, or anything.

Anyway, my proverbial sac a dos is filled to the gills with scenarios such as this one. And I think a little book relaying some of the more obvious intercultural customs might be useful. At the very least, in might save some future ex-pat girl from being subjected to evil stares from her future baker.