Inter-cultural Anecdotes

I was going to write something about how antibiotics don't do anything for the common cold or influenza, and how people who take antibiotics for such illnesses are putting us all at risk for infection by antibiotic-resistant strains of various bacteria.

I've decided not to do that, however, for the following reasons.

1. I feel certain that anyone reading this already knows about what antibiotics do, and what kinds of infections they don't fight.

2. Also, in my experience people who do take antibiotics for the flu or a cold are convinced that they are being helped, and there really isn't anything anyone can do to convince them otherwise.

3. Finally, I think that physicians should be writing about this, and that I'm not really qualified to do so. Some physicians and medical researchers have been writing about this for years, which is good. Nevertheless, there are others (I'm looking at you, Dr. Harbinger) who hand out amoxicillin as if it were candy.

So, here are some stories instead.

Some time ago I spent a few years in Italy as a student.

On one occasion, I was at a restaurant with a friend. At a table near us were two university students, one a young man, the other a young woman. Apparently they were traveling or perhaps spending a semester in Europe. It was clear from their rather loud speech that they were from ... let's just say a certain English-speaking country. At one point the young woman asked her waiter for ranch dressing for her salad. Her waiter, who knew some English, had no idea what she was talking about. "Ranch dressing" is not used in Italy. Italians have their salad with a little olive oil and vinegar. Other things are not put on salad. The young woman became more and more insistent, even somewhat angry. She kept repeating to the waiter the words "ranch dressing" in an ever-louder voice. I don't know what eventually happened, as my friend and I soon finished eating and left.

Another time, I was having a conversation with two young Italian men. We were speaking about languages, their differences, their roots, their development, and things of that nature. At one point one of the young men informed me that in my native country people did not speak "true English." Perhaps they were taught "true English" in school, but that wasn't what they spoke at home, among their friends, etc. Once I realized that this man was telling me that I was not in fact a native English speaker, I became rather angry. Then I learned that this young man who was telling me this did not himself speak, understand, read, or write any English whatsoever. Then the entire conversation seemed ridiculous to me. I was amused and angry at the same time, about the same thing. I never did manage to convince the other man that I did, in fact, speak English.

Once, while walking down a street in Rome, some people approached me and asked for directions to the Parthenon. Naturally I was tempted to say something like "Well, first, go back to the airport ..." But I didn't do that. I told them how to find the place they were actually seeking.

A middle-aged couple from ... a certain English-speaking country once approached me and asked for directions to somewhere or other. I gave them the best directions I could. We spoke for a while, chatting casually about various things. At one point the woman asked me where I learned to speak English so well. I told her the name of the city and nation. She seemed somewhat embarrassed by my answer, and I suspect she wasn't quite sure whether or not to believe me. After a few minutes we let the subject drop, and I helped them find the bus stop they needed. I hope they found their destination with no difficulty.

I have an Italian friend from that time. His father was then, and still is, a teacher. He (the father) is a very knowledgeable and well-educated man. During one of our vacations I went with my friend to stay with his family. At some point his father and I were talking about languages (I like talking about languages). He seemed certain that in English, the letter "p" is pronounced in the word "psychologist" and other similar words. I told him that it wasn't. This disagreement was easily settled. He found his copy of the Oxford English Dictionary, looked up a few words, and then admitted to me that he was mistaken.

I have quite a few more such stories. Perhaps I'll write down some more at another time.

Hans Bricker