<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281</id><updated>2012-02-07T16:35:05.420Z</updated><category term='craic'/><category term='moving'/><category term='Irish pub'/><category term='Prejudice'/><category term='xenophobia'/><category term='philology'/><category term='intercultural'/><category term='George Clooney'/><category term='Germans'/><category term='langage teaching'/><category term='Scottish estates'/><category term='male'/><category term='pleasures'/><category term='France'/><category term='haggis'/><category term='graduate'/><category term='Oxford'/><category term='El Bulli'/><category term='Interview'/><category term='Belgian food'/><category term='Scotland'/><category term='Intercultural Identity'/><category term='catholic'/><category term='taboo'/><category term='bread'/><category term='Frankfurt'/><category term='football'/><category term='learning'/><category term='comments'/><category term='Munich'/><category term='Adorno'/><category term='Cultural stereotypes'/><category term='Political correctness'/><category term='intellectuals'/><category term='New York'/><category term='Up In the Air'/><category term='Expatriate'/><category term='multicultural'/><category term='Belgium'/><category term='foodie'/><category term='culture'/><category term='crisps'/><category term='economy'/><category term='technocratic'/><category term='British food'/><category term='blog intercultural'/><category term='tourism'/><category term='tribalism'/><category term='violence'/><category term='Russian'/><category term='blacks'/><category term='language'/><category term='Edinburgh'/><category term='Irish'/><category term='Euro'/><category term='Bacon'/><category term='pizza'/><category term='move'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='Bulgaria'/><category term='existential'/><category term='French'/><category term='literature'/><category term='Britain'/><category term='Itally'/><category term='Germany'/><category term='Wim Wenders'/><category term='housing'/><category term='PR'/><category term='gay-bashing'/><category term='food'/><category term='fim review'/><category term='tea.'/><category term='seasons'/><category term='nationalism'/><category term='multi-cultural'/><category term='social media'/><category term='race'/><category term='traffic'/><category term='tourists'/><category term='swearing'/><category term='writing'/><category term='supremacy'/><category term='snow'/><category term='interculturalism'/><category term='Ireland'/><category term='England'/><title type='text'>Intercultural Musings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-8649563832426271050</id><published>2012-02-07T09:53:00.007Z</published><updated>2012-02-07T16:35:05.433Z</updated><title type='text'>Dickens and Pushkin as Saviours of National Identity</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gfWeJ78jfUA/TzD59Y5dkzI/AAAAAAAAAc0/FnGL79BC8pI/s1600/dickens.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 290px; height: 174px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gfWeJ78jfUA/TzD59Y5dkzI/AAAAAAAAAc0/FnGL79BC8pI/s400/dickens.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706335560929219378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonderful. 200 years of Dickens. What could be nicer? Celebrations, BBC documentaries, author readings, competitions, blogs, biographies. Your favourite Dickens character? Your favourite Dickens novel? What would you have said to Dickens? What does Dickens mean to us in 2012?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice, if it wasn't so heavy-handed. It is so very obvious that poor old Dickens has his role to play in this "special year" for Britain: Jubilee, yeah, Olympic Games double yeah, Dickens yeah. Yeah us, Great Britain. And remember Dickens' Victorianism? Wasn't all hunky-dory then was it? People had it tough too, actually a lot tougher than you lot. Scavenging, no money, crime, alcoholism.. you name it, they had it. You've got it really good in comparison, so stop moaning and get ony with it. Best country in the word innit! So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1937, the height of Stalin's terror regime. Also, the centenary of Pushkin's death. An author who used to be labelled aristocratic and decadent  now became a cultural figure of national identity. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kulturny'i&lt;/span&gt; were the people who read Pushkin, cultured folk, not backward peasants. And Stalin saw to it that everybody did indeed read Pushkin. And that every poet, writer, musician (Shostakovitch!) did their bit explainig why -oh yes indeed - Pushkin was their favourite poet. A national hero. The embodiment of the Russian soul. Legacy of what we're about. National source of Russianism, the essence of our literary heritage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pushkin sculptures sprang out of the ground next to the usual Lenin and Stalin ones. A literary figure became a national treasure. Pushkin's works became the ersatz-bible of the new state. Communist party, Stalin, Pushkin - your reference system if you're a modern Stalinist who loves his country. Hero of the masses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your favourite work by Pushkin? Err, sorry, Dickens!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-8649563832426271050?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/8649563832426271050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2012/02/dickens-and-pushkin-as-saviours-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/8649563832426271050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/8649563832426271050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2012/02/dickens-and-pushkin-as-saviours-of.html' title='Dickens and Pushkin as Saviours of National Identity'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gfWeJ78jfUA/TzD59Y5dkzI/AAAAAAAAAc0/FnGL79BC8pI/s72-c/dickens.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-1737356774024962259</id><published>2012-01-06T12:09:00.026Z</published><updated>2012-01-06T16:28:46.272Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Britain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Germany'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='intercultural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crisps'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Crisps - Interculturally</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y-K6bGagQTY/TwcdEkCvAVI/AAAAAAAAAcY/V6030C5Bduo/s1600/crisps.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 380px; height: 290px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y-K6bGagQTY/TwcdEkCvAVI/AAAAAAAAAcY/V6030C5Bduo/s400/crisps.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694552218065109330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;In France and Germany crisps are called "chips". But let's not worry about that at the moment. There are enough intercultural conundrums surrounding crisps, crisp eating and the attitudes towards them. You wouldn't think so, would you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Britain eating crisps is the most humdrum, every-day activity imaginable. Go to a Boots, and they're part of the "Meal-Deal". Go to a newsagent, and they're there, nicely stacked in a rack. In the supermarket, they come in huge sack-like multi-packs. Crisps are essentials.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very different "crisp-scenario" presents itself in Germany. There, crisps are stashed away in the "snacks"area of the supermarket. The bags look uniform, and come in only one size- quite a large size, approx. 4 servings of a Walkers packet. And - especially signifcantly - they overwhelmingly come in ONE flavour: "Paprika", sometimes called "Hungarian". Which explains why Germans often call crisps generically "Paprika-Chips".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;In Britain, there's prawn cocktail flavour, grilled steak, Marmite, salt and vinegar (one of the most popular of course), cheese and onion, ketchup... you name it. And in fact Walkers did just that with its Social Media campaign "Do Us A Flavour".(http://bit.ly/mxfPNG)&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;In Germany this exercise would have probably resulted in another paprika flavour! (That said, very recently, German producers have actually created some whacky flavours themselves, amongst them "Currywurst", Wasabi, or pumpkin oil flavour.) The French stick firmly to their No.1 flavour "salé" (ready salted.)&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Oh, and in Ireland life is really difficult if you're not a Cheese&amp;amp;Onion fan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the most surprising thing is, that Germans would not ever dream of eating crisps during the day. "Chips" are strictly for evenings. Offered to friends in a bowl, put on the table as a "TV snack", an ideal accompaniment to beer and football on the telly. (Not surprising you need those big bags!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I find it fascinating that even such an ubiquitous thing as crisps has an unbuilt intercultural factor. Same thing, so many different habits, flavours, associations connected to it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-1737356774024962259?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/1737356774024962259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2012/01/crisps-interculturally.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/1737356774024962259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/1737356774024962259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2012/01/crisps-interculturally.html' title='Crisps - Interculturally'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y-K6bGagQTY/TwcdEkCvAVI/AAAAAAAAAcY/V6030C5Bduo/s72-c/crisps.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-5626370296985582132</id><published>2011-11-17T10:07:00.005Z</published><updated>2011-11-17T11:05:16.157Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Germany'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='England'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='intercultural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tea.'/><title type='text'>(In Praise) Of Teabags and Nescafé</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RL5SJelHMIY/TsTdDk3orFI/AAAAAAAAAbk/71h-Hb62Etc/s1600/tea.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RL5SJelHMIY/TsTdDk3orFI/AAAAAAAAAbk/71h-Hb62Etc/s400/tea.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675904483900042322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;What sparked this off? I'm neither a  teablogger nor coffee afficionado. And yet something I read recently  struck a chord, and sparked off an "Intercultural Musing."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I've  always liked tea, and have never been very fond of coffee. I don't mind  it, mind. I find these either/or, only this/never that decisions that  people make in their lives tedious. Cat or dog? France or England? Beach  or mountains. I always say "both!" to all of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;So  okay, I prefer tea, slightly. My memories of coffee are exclusively  associated with Germany. Relatives coming "zum Kaffee". The table  already layed at their arrival, tablecloth, tiny forks ("Kuchengabeln")   - and in the kitchen, something that smelled good. Coffee brewing.  Many, many spoonfulls of ground coffee ladled into a  "Melitta"-Filtertüte, the drip drip of the coffee machine would soak the  ground coffee into a hot brown, fairly obscene looking dark brown mess.  Then the pouring into the tiny cups at the table. Lots of milk,.  sometimes cream. The result? An infernally evil tasting brew,  indescribable in its glissando of sour and bitter. Maybe foul is the  only word to describe it. The fuss, the taste. "Noch jemand Kaffee?"  Err, no thanks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Coming  to England changed all this. No coffee machines, no brown disgusting  mess to be disposed of.  No Kuchengabeln, Milchkännchen*.. no fuss.  Nescafé in a mug - hot water, milk straight from the carton, if any.&lt;/span&gt; (Since changed, obviously - but Nescafè is thankfully still very popular).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Relief. A new world. Freedom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Tea:  A teabag in a mug. Hot water. Milk, sugar if you wanted. Glorious. If  you never had a cup of tea made from a teabag of English (origins  unspecified) Breakfast tea in a mug, you have no idea how good tea is.  And equally importantly, how blissful the escape from fussiness is. I  will never own a Milchkännchen, neither will I be the proud owner of a  tea basket, tea egg or tea sieve.  No brown sludgey mess of tea leaves  or wet coffee. The embarrassing word "barrista" will not be used, and  the condescending chatter of tea snobs will not be heard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;That's the sort of self-confidence changing countries gives you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:78%;" &gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;A tiny milk jug matching your cups and saucers in&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:78%;" &gt;esign&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-5626370296985582132?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/5626370296985582132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/11/in-praise-of-teabags-and-nescafe.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/5626370296985582132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/5626370296985582132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/11/in-praise-of-teabags-and-nescafe.html' title='(In Praise) Of Teabags and Nescafé'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RL5SJelHMIY/TsTdDk3orFI/AAAAAAAAAbk/71h-Hb62Etc/s72-c/tea.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-2065307647349903178</id><published>2011-09-22T09:05:00.016+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T17:12:26.006+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technocratic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Germans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='male'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='intercultural'/><title type='text'>Intercultural Differences in Social Media Usage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7xswD-vcdQ8/TpKxZPnKllI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/lG_FhN2-dIo/s1600/fluester%25C3%25BCost.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7xswD-vcdQ8/TpKxZPnKllI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/lG_FhN2-dIo/s400/fluester%25C3%25BCost.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661782728803784274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Recently, I've taken to posting about half my twitter and Facebook messages in German. The majority of my folllowers is located in Britain, but Germans are the second largest group. I'd published some articles in German-speaking media, and after all - hey, I live in Germany!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;So I feel qualified to tell you about some striking differences in German vs. British social media usage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;The first result (after about 2 weeks) was that my Klout score went down a whole point. (Let's leave aside the undoubted dubiousness of Klout, but in terms of pure numerics it can be trusted.) This prompted me to do my own research into the matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;In the interest of easy access to my findings, I will abandon the narrative form and present my findings in bullet-point form.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;German twitter/facebook users are organised tribally. They often know each other personally and then form Social Media nuclei.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;A big reason for Social Media usage is to organize "Meet-ups" and get-togethers". Whilst these obv. exist everywhere, the German interest in them can almost be called obsessive.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;German users group themselves locally. Once you found acceptance into one such town/region circle, many other users will follow you. Membership has to be "proven" via heritage, immense interest in the region, or - best of all - personal acquaintance.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;German Social Media users are (in my experience) predominantly male. There are of course females but they tend to be even more tightly knit by interest or locality.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;A (at least for me) slightly off-putting feature of German female SM usage is the tendency to give oneself childish, overly sugary "kuschelige" nicknames. ("Wuschelchen" etc.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Internet technology is German male users' prime topic. (You might think this characteristic for men the world over, but it's definitely not true for British male social media users).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Interaction is mostly limited to these tech subjects. Even the shared regionality serves more as a form of glue than an actual topic of communication.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Germans hardly ever do RT's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;If there are RT's these are limited to notifications about meet-ups. Thereby serving as a sort of "Flüsterpost" - an internal network.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Germans (again this applies to males) are more prone to using Foursquare than other nations. There are users who hardly ever post anything but a Foursuare notification.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;A good number of Germans only post deliberately "absurd", out of context posts, and don't follow anybody. Again, like the Foursquarers, this inhibits any sort of dialogue and reverts back to an old "Read Only" profile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;I am refraining from interpreting these findings. I merely wanted to take the subject of Interculturalism which so often hangs in yesterday's world of "The are so polite, The English" into a more up-to-date context.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-2065307647349903178?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/2065307647349903178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/09/intercultural-differences-in-social.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2065307647349903178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2065307647349903178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/09/intercultural-differences-in-social.html' title='Intercultural Differences in Social Media Usage'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7xswD-vcdQ8/TpKxZPnKllI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/lG_FhN2-dIo/s72-c/fluester%25C3%25BCost.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-7980196468287111374</id><published>2011-08-09T13:13:00.021+01:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T16:22:29.805+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Order will Be Restored</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rOwJ7VEGqlI/TkFQfyKmvCI/AAAAAAAAAWs/toELqcOp6_g/s1600/london.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rOwJ7VEGqlI/TkFQfyKmvCI/AAAAAAAAAWs/toELqcOp6_g/s400/london.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638876715416992802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The Riots. Appalling to watch, that's for sure. Difficult to comment on, what to say? "Mindless violence", a "warzone". Or talking evaluatively "Being poor doesn't mean losing your moral compass". Or social workerishly: "The whole of society is to blame for this break-down in communication". Yeah, whateva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;What "society" obviously is not keen to see that Britain has some of the worst socially deprived areas in Europe. Not just in London, not just in the inner cities. The derelict mining areas of the Midlands are a case in point. Decades of non -intervention by any government. Squalor, poverty, depravity (the Bulger case, followed by the near killing by torture of two boys two years ago.) Does  nobody ever look? I wrote to the MP at the time, Caroline Flint, to ask about was done about the bottomless poverty in her constituency. No reply. I asked India Knight on Twitter whether that level of overty did not shock her. Her reply "Thatcher destroyed those mining communities." Yeah sure, she did. But nobody, no Labour government, no Conservative government did anything at all to repair the damage. To try and bring those places to life again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Look at the inner cities. DOES anybody actually ever look? Tottenham - a no-go zone for decades, Hackney - an ugly hostile quarter - are only the "gentrified" (haha) parts worth noticing, because you could buy property there and it could go up in price? Bow. "Trendy" Shoreditch. Dalston. Haringay. Canning Town. Let's not beat about the bush. Those are slums. Ugly, 1960's "urban renewal" slums,  not changed or sanitised since then. High-rise towerblocks with delapidated walkways, like the one Damilola Taylor was murdered in. Does nobody ever look, or think? These things happened - but obviously nobody took them in. Too busy buying Gucci sunglasses, package holidays and ready-made meals in M&amp;amp;S. All those ghastly trappings of a society in the first flush of affluence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;There are always complaints that Britain being a "classist" society. But only in the sense that there are people who can afford better and more than yourself. Resentfulness poisoning the air. Only the upward class war is legitimate: Gordon Brown igniting class hatred by denouncing people with a better education. People laughing about David Cameron for having been to Eton. That is all legitimate and welcome. So why not accept that people who have a lot less take this attitude on board? Why be surprised when theyfeel thwarted and cheated? They're also fighting a class war. Their pathetic looting of Foot Locker and Poundland, Aldi and O2 is the flip side of all those avaricious people who see Gucci sunglasses as the epitome of social cachet. The admirers of gross footballers and their girlfriends, the provincials who re-mortgage their house(s) in order to buy tat to impress the neighbours. Hard-earned cash? Oh sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Peter Mandelson "being intensely relaxed about people getting filthy rich". Boris Johnson and his hedge fund-manager deputy making it very obvious that all they're concerend about is to preserve the right image of London for the Olympic games. (K. Malthouse tweeting "we got to get the message out that London is a peaceful city- for the Olympics").&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;What a rough place Britain has become.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-7980196468287111374?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/7980196468287111374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/08/order-will-be-restored.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/7980196468287111374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/7980196468287111374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/08/order-will-be-restored.html' title='Order will Be Restored'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rOwJ7VEGqlI/TkFQfyKmvCI/AAAAAAAAAWs/toELqcOp6_g/s72-c/london.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-6078516880655597472</id><published>2011-07-25T11:48:00.024+01:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T16:43:47.083+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Expatriate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tourism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Edinburgh'/><title type='text'>From Tourist to Resident -  A Changing Perspective</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GyKajHtVNyM/TjAgtM67hiI/AAAAAAAAAVY/Y4scccLHbss/s1600/tourist.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GyKajHtVNyM/TjAgtM67hiI/AAAAAAAAAVY/Y4scccLHbss/s400/tourist.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634039094775088674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;It all started with a few Facebook photos a friend had posted from her recent trip to London. There were the usual double decker buses, the London Eye, and one from Trafalgar Square. Someone had written a comment: "You really captured the essence of the town!" Hmm, hang on I thought. Pigeons on Trafalgar Square are not the essence of London, surely? After all I'd lived in London for many years. So my perspective would by necessity be different from somenone who's spent a weekend there. Had gone to a pizza place, maybe a cocktail bar, stayed in a hotel, did a bit of shopping, and would have gone to "a show" (being American).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Don't get me wrong - I'm not making fun of that experience. And of course having been a tourist, i.e. visiting a town as often as you possibly can is vital when you plan to make your sojourn more permanent, and become a resident. I can safely say I know what I'm talking about. When I moved to Edinburgh I'd been there plenty of times. I'd even taken the trouble to visit in various seasons so as not to be surprised by the weather. I've  always done careful research before I moved and finally settled somewhere. But it is impossible to anticipate what finally awaits you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Just a few  vital examples of things you neglect to find out at your peril:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Public transport. Sure, as a visitor you're bound to take the occasional bus ride. But you're not dependent on it. If the wait's too long, you'll jump into a cab.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;When I'd moved to Edinburgh the transport system was just about to collapse. Whole areas of town were cordoned off and buses rerouted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rubbish collection. Staying in a hotel will not prepare you for the often (especially inItaly and the UK) totally chaotic and insufficient collection times in your new town.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;I ended up doing daily trips to a totally overfull public rubbish collection point, due to mismangement and long-term strike action.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shopping. During your visit you won't have found out where there's a good place to buy potatoes or washing powder, simply because you don't needed any.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Safety. Although tourists will probably be worried about their money belt and rucksack, when you live in a place, it's not pickpockets on open squares you will be worried about. Residential areas are mostly not the sort of places tourists visits.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;In Edinburgh, I was very lucky to live in an area which was both quiet, safe and central - the Westend. An absolute godsend, as I hadn't known this beautiful quarter before I actually moved there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;These are just a few pointers that the impression you may get on holiday is not necessarily the "correct" one, and certainly one you will have to query many many times once you've moved to your new place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me know of your own experience in that field!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-6078516880655597472?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/6078516880655597472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/07/from-tourist-to-resident-changing.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/6078516880655597472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/6078516880655597472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/07/from-tourist-to-resident-changing.html' title='From Tourist to Resident -  A Changing Perspective'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GyKajHtVNyM/TjAgtM67hiI/AAAAAAAAAVY/Y4scccLHbss/s72-c/tourist.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-4753480448802042782</id><published>2011-06-30T09:04:00.022+01:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T14:07:03.367+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Un-Fashionable Food</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-piCVEXSMVYc/Tg3ERoR2TmI/AAAAAAAAARM/LNiIgrs5kZM/s1600/19%2Bcentury.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-piCVEXSMVYc/Tg3ERoR2TmI/AAAAAAAAARM/LNiIgrs5kZM/s400/19%2Bcentury.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624367316804718178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7o9VEI3-YwI/Tg3DkC4RhGI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/lzH5hg2aIbs/s1600/19%2Bcentury.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;You don't wear a crinoline, or a flapper's dress. Men don't wear bowler hats anymore. Clothes aren't made of the heavy, difficult to wash-and-dry fabrics they used to be. You don't wear ten layers of undergarment or complicated corsetry. You CAN of course wear those things, say for a costume party or for fun... but you wouldn't think it is quite the normal thing  for everyday life or to go to work in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;So why is it that people still eat the same type of food their forefathers enjoyed many decades or even centuries ago? Every country has their own depressing litany of outdated foods. (I think it is fair to call them "outdated" as food definitely has a shelf-life (pun intended). Nowadays we know so much more about nutrition, we don't need quite so many calories as our lives tend to be less physically demanding - and most importantly our tastes should have changed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;In Germany, the dreaded combo of a piece of pork swimming in virtual estuaries of creamy gravy, garnished with rubbery canned mushrooms goes by the name of "Jaegerschnitzel".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hhPw4y32KPs/Tg3D9U2NjBI/AAAAAAAAARE/jGSmfN_YHcQ/s1600/j%25C3%25A4gerschnitzel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hhPw4y32KPs/Tg3D9U2NjBI/AAAAAAAAARE/jGSmfN_YHcQ/s320/j%25C3%25A4gerschnitzel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624366967991143442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Weirdly, it is most frequently  accompanied by a heap of noodles. The recipe was first established in the early 19th century. Time to move on I say!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Britain still suffers from the heritage of wartime austerity when almost all foodstuffs were rationed. This unfortunate legacy continues to make British home-cooked  meals a thing of nutritional horror. Greasy, stodgy and depressingly dull meals are still the norm in an ordinary household.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;The only widely accepted modernisation would be microwaving which really is more a time-saving device than an actual modernisation. When people bother to cook "properly", they still refer to a meal-plan  that was devised ages ago. Pies for example are to this day made with suet, lard and dripping - fats that are nutritionally deeply suspect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Yet it's not just the nutritional aspect that remains iffy. The content of a Cornish pasty for example evokes the musty, mushy, greyness of a 1940's school dinner. And it really would be so easy to bring it up to date (more interesting vegetables not cooked to a pulp etc.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;The same is even true for such a gastronomic ideal  as France. French cuisine with its penchant for old-fashioned "meat and two veg" formulas  (and that's for lunch!), its passion for all things boiled, its unsophisticated odd puddings "(Ile flottante"! )place its cuisine firmly in the mid-19th century.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;NB I'm talking about typical meals families would consume at home, not what you can get in restaurants - of course there is much more diversity there, and food has clearly moved with the times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;So why is home cooking so reluctant to  adapt to any reasonable interpretation of "zeitgeist"? Why can it only either dwell in the doldrums of a forgotten decade, or else become dull fastfood? Why is there not a modern interpretation of healthy, nutritionally balanced and easy to prepare complete meals? TV-chefs like Jamie Oliver or Gordon Ramsay produce examples how this could be achieved. But there suggestions rarely make it into family homes. Too fussy, too difficult, too many ingredients, outcome unsure.... those are the arguments against. So people stick with what they know, and (think they) love. Which is either greasy and heavy 19th century food, or greasy and heavy fastfood (chips, bacon). What a shame!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-4753480448802042782?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/4753480448802042782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/06/un-fashionable-food.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4753480448802042782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4753480448802042782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/06/un-fashionable-food.html' title='Un-Fashionable Food'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-piCVEXSMVYc/Tg3ERoR2TmI/AAAAAAAAARM/LNiIgrs5kZM/s72-c/19%2Bcentury.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-6046418668420352501</id><published>2011-04-12T10:58:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T11:21:43.505+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Europe of Regions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dSd8_qAGZbA/TaQl1Nc8PAI/AAAAAAAAAQw/htN8vWA6ils/s1600/danube.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dSd8_qAGZbA/TaQl1Nc8PAI/AAAAAAAAAQw/htN8vWA6ils/s400/danube.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594638233175342082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Reading Claudio Magris wonderful book "Danube. Biography of a River", it occurred to me how much I share his ideal of a Europe not bound together by economic interests, mutual resentment and financial demands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;But a Europe of interconnected regions undivided by borders, where regions, dialects, customs and landscape mix, flow and ebb, and it is impossible to define where one ends and the other starts. The true meaning of intercultural life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The book concentrates on the Danube, a river that meanderingly connects (what would nowadays be) 10 countries and spans almost 2,000 miles. Its origin is in the Black Forest in Germany and its estuary is by the Black Sea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;It is great to see a river not as a border, but as  a living stream of trade, cultural exchange and perpetuum mobile of ideas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Whilst, especially from a Europhobic postion it takes time to get used to such a gentle and serene view of Continetal Europe, it is ceratinly worth the effort. A great book and a great concept - a Europe of Regions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;(Claudio Magris: Danube http://www.amazon.co.uk)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-6046418668420352501?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/6046418668420352501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/04/europe-of-regions.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/6046418668420352501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/6046418668420352501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/04/europe-of-regions.html' title='A Europe of Regions'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dSd8_qAGZbA/TaQl1Nc8PAI/AAAAAAAAAQw/htN8vWA6ils/s72-c/danube.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-7866768879377172963</id><published>2011-03-09T10:09:00.016Z</published><updated>2011-03-09T10:56:14.762Z</updated><title type='text'>What's Wrong With Interculturalism</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LmQdMcLkEv8/TXdbDtI1XWI/AAAAAAAAAQo/jIV5vxEJs2k/s1600/stereo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 236px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LmQdMcLkEv8/TXdbDtI1XWI/AAAAAAAAAQo/jIV5vxEJs2k/s400/stereo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582030382363401570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm well-aware of the double entendre of my headline, and accordingly the answers would have to be respectively "nothing" , or "quite a lot". Of course it is an important discipline. Cultural awareness is essential - for companies, for communication in a globalized world, for human beings trying to come to grips with a world where long-held beliefs have turned into dusty cliches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Which brings me to my point: A lot of the current intercultural debate is still rooted in churning over depressing cliches about different nations. The "polite English" have allegedly got problems when dealing with "forthright Dutch". The chatty Swedes find the Finns a bit taciturn and so on, and so on. Soon we'll be dicussing how to deal with a passionate Italian when you're a cool cucumber from Minnesota. This may be fine for centuries of women's magazines and giggly hen night chats but is hardly worth the attention of a multi-disciplined approach towards culture and identity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;So why has it come to this? In my opinion, there are 2 reasons. First, the blogosphere. Where, and how would you generate more "comments" (the holy grail of blog posts) than by saying "provocative" things about a nation? Write about the fact you don't like haggis (oooh!) and hey presto, you've got 30 comments assuring you that it's the best thing on earth, and a vital part of Scottish culture. Hey, you've just become an interculturalist, discussing weighty matters of importance. NOT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The second reason is that interculturalism has become a money-spinner. Offer "intercultural identity" classes to a company, and you'll be welcomed with open arms. If your course has anything to do with China, Chinese negotiating practices, eating habits etc. you'll be paid in gold. So professionally, there is very little incentive not to make the most of every little change that comes about through an international posting. From Freiburg to Strasbourg? (40km) Don't underestimate the difficulties! From Vaals to Aachen? (actually the same town divided by the Dutch/German border) - you'll be surprised, best take a course in intercultural education and learn that a bicycle is seen very differently there!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;It is time interculturalism decided what it wants to be. One way is to stick in the world of folksy cliches and make - literally - a meal out of that. The other would be to incorporate contemporary reality into the field. Not- "oh, look so strange!" But- "why is that culture different?" More often than not, it's not nation character that makes the difference but very simply economic reality (I noticed this very sharply recently when I went to a German shopping centre in a poor area - prams, obesity, junk food habits etc. made it so much more similar to England than I had ever expected, but that's a point worth discussing separately.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Interculturalism has to leave the prejudicial repetiton of outdated cliches behind, stop discussing them in a houswifely well-meaning context, and become focussed on reality. Gender roles, bi- and multi-lingualism, economic data, attitude to a nation's history (ancient and very receent!), leisure activities, the meaning of dress (here again, it is extremely important to leave cliches behind, no more "chic French women!"), the value of housing, of domesticity, the role of children and childhood... all those and a hundred other micro-trend analyses are what's needed in  a truly meaningful intercultural debate - not the proliferation of  outdated stereotypes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-7866768879377172963?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/7866768879377172963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/03/whats-wrong-with-interculturalism.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/7866768879377172963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/7866768879377172963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/03/whats-wrong-with-interculturalism.html' title='What&apos;s Wrong With Interculturalism'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LmQdMcLkEv8/TXdbDtI1XWI/AAAAAAAAAQo/jIV5vxEJs2k/s72-c/stereo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-6236121451950183848</id><published>2011-01-11T10:27:00.012Z</published><updated>2011-01-11T20:08:44.621Z</updated><title type='text'>Could It Happen in Britain?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TSw2W6PTwwI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/RMvh1xFchdE/s1600/riots.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 318px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TSw2W6PTwwI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/RMvh1xFchdE/s400/riots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560879407114208002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;After the killing spree in Arizona, columnists in Britain are asking questions "Could a similar incident happen in Britain"? Mary Riddell in The Telegraph points to the student riots, citing them as an outbreak of violence and hatred that might lead to worse. I disagree. Student anger (whether right or wrong) has always been a feature of every country. In France, student riots happen frequently, and not all are reported in the British press. If the government requires you to fork out a small fortune for your university education, (which in other European countries, like Germany, the state actually FUNDS you to undertake) then disquiet is certainly understandable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;No, the real anger, hatred and potential danger does not lurk there. I have only returned from Britain last September, so my impressions are still fresh and up to date. In no other country in Europe have I ever encountered such widespread dissatisfaction, bad-tempered every day life, such venom in exchanges, such loathing of any diverse opinion. The fury British people feel can easily be traced in the comments section of any online newspaper -  not just the Daily Mail - I'm always shocked and dismayed to see how viciously and hate-filled Guardian readers treat each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Nowhere else in Europe do car-drivers make a habit of driving straight at pedestrians crossing the road. In Britain this is a daily occurrence - incidental of all the pent-up frustration people feel. Racing off after having scared a poor person to death - Ha! what could be more satisfying!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Britain, unfortunately, has become a country where everybody loathes each other: North vs. South, poor vs.rich, men vs. women, the obsese vs. the non-obese. And yes, it is THAT way around, alas. Everybody feels slighted, everybody feels they're the underdog, unfairly treated by forces unseen - and is hell-bent to get their own back: I'll show them! That'll teach'em! (Which is unfortunately exactly the attitude that leads to mindless massacres.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Political correctness prevents you to say what you really feel about immigrants, ethnic minorities etc.? No problem, just lash out against women drivers, the EU, people who think they're better, stick insects etc etc - and nobody will blame you. And voilá, all your hatred and loathing has been subliminated into a wonderfully warm bath of crowd-agreement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Increasing poverty, an infrastructure that doesn't deserve this name anymore, fear of unemployment, fear of not being able to pay your mortgage - those are all contributing factors. But they aren't everything. Uniquely (modern) British is a mind-set that feels slighted, unappreciated, resentful, and deeply angry - without knowing quite why. And that maybe dangerous (although if nothing else - gun laws in the UK will probably prevent a massacre), but it sure as hell makes for very unpleasant living.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-6236121451950183848?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/6236121451950183848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/01/could-it-happen-in-britain.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/6236121451950183848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/6236121451950183848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2011/01/could-it-happen-in-britain.html' title='Could It Happen in Britain?'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TSw2W6PTwwI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/RMvh1xFchdE/s72-c/riots.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-2055966904441896989</id><published>2010-12-19T18:08:00.011Z</published><updated>2010-12-20T11:35:46.306Z</updated><title type='text'>5 Things to Conquer As an Expat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TQ8_UOlFJPI/AAAAAAAAAP4/31ngDAq68FA/s1600/chisel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TQ8_UOlFJPI/AAAAAAAAAP4/31ngDAq68FA/s400/chisel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552726482314667250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1. Learning the Language&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;In my view, coming to grips with the language of your adopted country is the most important step towards successful integration. You will feel a perpetual outsider if you're struggling for words (say when shopping at a market), aren't able to reply to a friendly remark by a neighbour, or have trouble understanding numbers (makes paying so much more difficult!) Learning a language is fun and it is also an excellent way of getting to know people (fellow foreigners as pupils, or natives as teachers might be your first contacts.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;2. Marginalisation&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;There is no way around this. Every expat will know the feeling of being an outsider. This can either be self-inflicted - because you "feel" you can't be the person you used to be at home (because of linguistic and cultural inhibitions) or it could be that as a foreigner you are made to feel you don't quite belong. It's important to accept those feelings as necessary stepping stones; there's little you can do about it. Marginalisation, especially during the first year, say, is just part of the process.  Accept it as a stage.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Homesickness&lt;/span&gt;     &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;This is the bread and butter of expat life. After all, you've left friends and family behind.Your new country doesn't (seem to) offer the same comforts as home. You feel alienated, alone and awkward. Accept that there is nothing wrong with homesickness but try not to wallow in it. It's probably not a good idea to listen to your favourite familiar tune while reading a letter from your mum, or looking through childhood snaps... Go for walks, look at sites, visit a museum (all visual rather based on language) and try to enjoy your new surroundings for what they have to offer. Another good way of conquering homesickness is taking photos, it helps to make you feel in charge.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. A (temporary) feeling of dislike of your new country&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Believe me, we've all been there! You feel you can't take it anymore, the customs, the people, the language, the weather, the rudeness, the traffic - whatever it may be, it will be powerful, all-encompassing loathing of "the other".Simply because it isn't home, there will be a period where you'll be convinced your new surroundings are inferior. Or that you just "have" to leave. Again, I would say this is a necessary stage you have to fight your way through. There will come a morning when you'll be enchanted by the light, a stranger will smile at you or you accomplish a whole sentence in your new language.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.Your shyness&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;It's natural to be shy when you're a stranger. Potentially, a lot of things can go wrong. You don't know your way round - literally and culturally. But try not to be too self-aware and inhibited. People will cut you a lot of slack as a foreigner. There's no need to completely blend in, no need to get everything right. Be yourself, smile, speak the language (however inadequately) and try to make as many contacts you possibly can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-2055966904441896989?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/2055966904441896989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/12/5-things-to-conquer-as-expat.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2055966904441896989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2055966904441896989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/12/5-things-to-conquer-as-expat.html' title='5 Things to Conquer As an Expat'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TQ8_UOlFJPI/AAAAAAAAAP4/31ngDAq68FA/s72-c/chisel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-2609521274431494085</id><published>2010-11-19T10:15:00.032Z</published><updated>2010-11-21T17:50:27.074Z</updated><title type='text'>Expat Life -Examples of What to Negotiate When Living Abroad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TOaAu41Ct5I/AAAAAAAAAPw/rYvVFi4HLeU/s1600/expat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TOaAu41Ct5I/AAAAAAAAAPw/rYvVFi4HLeU/s400/expat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541257934543173522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Expat issues have become a bit of a free for all lately. We're all expats now -people who own an indebted building site in Spain, people with a relative in Australia that they sometimes stay with ....you get the drift.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;But being an expatriate is not just about fuelling a cottage industry of "relocation advisers", intercultural specialists" and "localization experts". Living in a foreign country, whether by choice or forced to by circumstance is first and foremost a huge upheaval - actual and psychological.  It is a cultural adventure - you need to be both flexible and grounded. And not everybody will be able to handle it.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking personally , almost my first memory is of living abroad (in Holland) but at the same time being conscious of the fact that this wasn't "home". I was small enough to adapt quickly, make friends and pick up the language. Which brings me to my first focus point.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Language&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; - Without wanting to  get into  a philospohical discussion how language constitutes being and personality (which it undoubtedly does) being able to talk the language of one's adopted country is the most important element of settling in. Especially in the beginning when things have to be sorted, not being able to communicate is a nightmare. Command of the language takes away the feeling of being regarded as an outsider. To me that is the most important safeguard against cultural alienation&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Local culture&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; - I am often amazed when I hear of British people moving to countries which will feel utterly alien to them. At the height of the property speculation boom lots of people moved to countries like Bulgaria or Hungary to make the most of low property prices. I would dearly love to have a progress update of what happened to those enterprising souls!  Take Hungary, of which (being part Hungarian) I am half-way competent to talk about. A) The language is extremely difficult to master. B) Notions of Hungarian history, ethnic complexities, political alliances and violent national dislikes feed into daily life and virtual any aspect of its society. I would think it extremely unlikely that (apart from specialists) any British subject would have the background, cultural empathy and ability to adapt easily to such a cauldron of cultural complexity.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Hungary is just one example; I would  imagine countries like say Turkey, Portugal, or even southern Italy to be equally challenging to the newcomer  (and these are all still in the Western hemisphere)&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;- trivial as it may sound, the weather in your new country can be a huge hurdle in the adaptation process.  Heat, cold (associated darkness) or extreme hunidity are physically  challenging and  can literally make life difficult for the prospective expat. Again, speaking personally, I found  living in Scotland challengingfor that reason.  It actually turned out to be a deal-breaker as I was not prepared to change my life totally and settle into a permanent winter existence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Fashion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;  -  That's not just an ephemeral phenomenon, it's a cultural signifier, and a very tricky one at that. Two examples: 1. I remember wearing a flowery  summer dress in Rome, and feeling totally self-conscious  - everybody else was wearing sharply-tailored clothes. 2. My husband spent some time working in an an advertising agency in New York, and found the dress code totally at odds with European practice (Americans not favouring the creative look.) &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Again, awareness here is key. British fashion, for example, is fairly out of kilter with European main stream dressing; lots of British people in France, say, are simply not aware of the fact that the way they dress is a major obstacle to being taken seriously there.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Politics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; - Even the most a-political person will get sucked into some of their new country's issues. The way women are treated and expected to act (especially in southern or Islamic countries), tolerance towards foreigners (whether you thought of yourself as belonging to that group or not: Now you've become one!), levels of poverty and the country's attitude towards it ... these are all  issues far-removed from party-politics, yet you will have to deal with them afresh in a new country.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Those are just a few of the challenges expats encounter on a day-to-day basis. I would love to hear what were/are your major issues as an expat and what you personally found challenging.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-2609521274431494085?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/2609521274431494085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/11/expat-life-examples-of-what-to.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2609521274431494085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2609521274431494085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/11/expat-life-examples-of-what-to.html' title='Expat Life -Examples of What to Negotiate When Living Abroad'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TOaAu41Ct5I/AAAAAAAAAPw/rYvVFi4HLeU/s72-c/expat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-3796696004796267885</id><published>2010-11-01T09:21:00.024Z</published><updated>2010-11-01T16:42:01.190Z</updated><title type='text'>Dialects and Tribalism -Time for a Re-Think?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TM7rUTfd-pI/AAAAAAAAAPo/VcsyFawS_vc/s1600/i_dont_understand_front_cov.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 353px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TM7rUTfd-pI/AAAAAAAAAPo/VcsyFawS_vc/s400/i_dont_understand_front_cov.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534619726147091090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Let me put my cards on the table: I dislike dialects. They are ugly, incomprehensible, and yokellish.  In the past year, I've lived in two areas of two different countries which both specialise in local lingos that are pretty incomprehensible to outsiders (and in my view both slightly unattractive) - Scotland and Bavaria.  Actually,  that very incomprehensibility is much more of a problem to the natives themselves than to an outsider. They are victims of their own presumed exclusivity. Imagine a Bavarian teacher applying for a job in Hamburg - and the unnecessary misery  they'd be creating for themselves. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously I am aware of the decade-long discussion about the beauty, fairness and real-ness of local dialects, as opposed to the soullessness, dirigism, and enforced standardization lurking behind a universally comprehensible language. But there is nothing liberating or particularly individualistic in speaking a heavily accented language not shared by other people. It is a sure-fire way to marginalise yourself. Not because of any class-stigma attached, simply because other speakers find it a) difficult to comprehend b) possibly ugly c)possibly culturally offensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Germany, this is merely cause for good-natured, if tedious banter;  in Britain however, where tribalism and a dangerous "pride" in one's (arbitrary)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; locale &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;is so often a cause for aggression and prejudice this is a different and dangerous matter.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Especially in the UK I would therefore be totally in favour of a re-introduction of a standardized language. This need not be one associated with dominatory forcces like public schools. When Italy first established itself as a unified state, Florentine dialect was consensually adopted as the nation's language. Something similar could be done in Britain. What I certainly consider a totally wrong move is the encouraging of dialectical aberrations by state institutions, such as conducting lessons in Scottish dialect ( not: Gaelic).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Dialects have ceased to be comedy material. In an increasingly tribal society (which in itself is a worrying development) they are a potential - and unnecessary -powder keg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-3796696004796267885?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/3796696004796267885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/11/dialects-and-tribalism-time-for-re.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/3796696004796267885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/3796696004796267885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/11/dialects-and-tribalism-time-for-re.html' title='Dialects and Tribalism -Time for a Re-Think?'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TM7rUTfd-pI/AAAAAAAAAPo/VcsyFawS_vc/s72-c/i_dont_understand_front_cov.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-2760635936766320692</id><published>2010-10-10T12:27:00.035+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T16:06:03.568+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scottish estates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scotland'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blacks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race'/><title type='text'>Non-Whites  in Scotland</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TLMkZhTDpHI/AAAAAAAAAPg/G7JQ1r12jlo/s1600/black.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 190px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TLMkZhTDpHI/AAAAAAAAAPg/G7JQ1r12jlo/s400/black.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526801188567360626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;*)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;I should make it clear that whenI mention "race" I am not referring to the topic of "Anyone But England", i.e. some spurious and pathetic tribal rivalry on the football terrace.  I mean  visibly defineable characteristics which might induce prejudicial reactions from the locally prevalent majority. ('differance')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Living in Scotland is in many ways like living in a post-war society  (dilapidation, social deprivation, poor housing, visible poverty, widespread health problems due to various forms of malnutrition etc.) But what makes living there very strange, unreal and out of  touch with present times, is the almost exclusive white make-up of the  population. Why is it that a whole part of Britain is  ethnically/racially un-mixed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"It is well known that black and ethnic                                        minority communities in Scotland are faced                                        with various problems such as: under representation,                                        institutional racism, lack of coordination,                                        lack of resources and disadvantages at various                                        levels (health, housing, employment and                                        education). This is coupled by a lack of                                        understanding about the diversity of the                                        black and ethnic minority communities in                                        Scotland and lack of effective consultation                                        and research work." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;This is a quote from a Scottish Government publication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I lived in Scotland for exactly one year. Time enough to be an observer. The government has obviously got the right (-on) intentions. No shortage, in fact a barrage, of well-meaning bumf, just like on every other issue (alcoholism, obesity, anti-smoking) so on race. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But where are the people they are actually talking about? &lt;/span&gt;Where are blacks, the people from the Indian sub-continent? Where is anybody who's not white? Simple answer: Not there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;98.19% of Scotland is white. The biggest ethnic group are Pakistanis (0.63%) Blacks constitute a whopping 0.16% of the Scottish population. When you live there, you do not come across non-white people in your daily life. There was one black cashier at M&amp;amp;S, I remember that, in no other shop did I ever see a non-white person working (or shopping, for that matter.) I had some insight into the creative industry - to the best of my knowledge, there was no non-white person working in advertising or PR in Edinburgh (The capital, as well as the capital of the creative industry.) Of the 47 members of the SNP in Holyrood not a single one is from a non-white background.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Despite the constant barrage of well-intended (and taxpayer-funded) government declaration on racial equality, I cannot see this happening very easily. Otherness of any kind is met with total disapproval in Scottish society. It can only be remedied by total and complete adoption of anything Scottish. Neutrality is not allowed. Scottish supremacy would have to be reiterated at any opportunity, not as a one-off lipservice, but for ever, at all times.  Scottish speech patterns and habits would have to be religiously adhered to. Any outsider  is pressurised into that sort of behaviour. The issue of skin-colour would, however, remain and woud, in my experience, be insurmountable. In a middle-class environment it might just about be conceivable - at the price of being totally ignored, blanked and unintegrated.  What would happen if a black person moved to one of the estates which are exclusively white-Scottish, and where national "pride" is the only currency, is open to debate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Based on my observations and insights  in Scotland, I can unfortunately not come up with an encouraging and workable model for racial integration. Even  constant government reminders (in the form of adverts, admonition, factsheets, flyers  etc.) will not break through the passive stone-walling of a society where any outsider is still met with  suspicion and potential aggression.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-2760635936766320692?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/2760635936766320692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/10/non-whites-in-scotland.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2760635936766320692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2760635936766320692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/10/non-whites-in-scotland.html' title='Non-Whites  in Scotland'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TLMkZhTDpHI/AAAAAAAAAPg/G7JQ1r12jlo/s72-c/black.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-777524433997250015</id><published>2010-09-28T17:17:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T16:38:06.517+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Germans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='langage teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language'/><title type='text'>English? Na klar!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TKNcMI-_gmI/AAAAAAAAAPI/-YX-6mHCXB4/s1600/oettinger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TKNcMI-_gmI/AAAAAAAAAPI/-YX-6mHCXB4/s400/oettinger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522358931726238306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;There are very few Germans who would not maintain that they speak fluent English. And indeed, English is everywhere - music, films, social media, brands, youth culture... you name it, it's in English.  But when it comes to actually speaking English, Germans are - whether they like it or not - quite shockingly bad at it. Of course, if you go there as a tourist, you're probably quite happy that almost everybody has a smattering of your language, and you won't find yourself totally lost. But proper, idiomatic and proficient speaking of English is almost totally absent. I've been paying quite close attention to this phenomenon since I moved here, and have identified what are, in my mind, the most obvious weaknesses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pronunication. &lt;/span&gt;Only the other day I heard somebody say "Latin Lover"  in typically German pronunciation . It sounded like thiss "Lett-hinn luffa". Most Germans don't make any effort to pronounce English as it should be. Annoyingly, they often also transport their own local dialect into the foreign language, so you end up with Swabian English, Berlin English etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Un-idoimatic use of language. &lt;/span&gt;Germans seem to be blissfully unaware of the fact that English is perhaps the most idiomatic language in the world. You simply can't go about in your own way and disregard idioms. It ends up sounding clumsy and naive, and that unfortunately, is mostly the impression created when Germans speak English.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Treating English as if it was German&lt;/span&gt;. Probably the gravest sin, and probably responsible why Germans think they can easily deal with the language: Just translate word by word and you end up with... gibberish. A good example I overheard the other day: "It is now nice since two days, so I go out." Err? There is also a total disregard for tenses (esp. Present Perfect to indicate an on-going state of affairs and Past Continuous which doesn't exist in German.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I think there is great scope for improved English teaching at German schools and university. It should be a prerequisite that English teachers have spent a considerable amount of time in an English-speaking country. I do believe it's worth learning to speak a language properly (i..e as native speakers handle it) and not in some pidginified version.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-777524433997250015?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/777524433997250015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/09/english-na-klar.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/777524433997250015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/777524433997250015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/09/english-na-klar.html' title='English? Na klar!'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TKNcMI-_gmI/AAAAAAAAAPI/-YX-6mHCXB4/s72-c/oettinger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-4298779850127380839</id><published>2010-09-15T07:35:00.012+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T08:24:15.109+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Twitter - Is It Time to Quit?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TJBz7sG_TnI/AAAAAAAAAPA/t5CC05S7P-4/s1600/twitter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 204px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TJBz7sG_TnI/AAAAAAAAAPA/t5CC05S7P-4/s400/twitter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517037012818808434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;First there were the spammers, now there are the bores. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think that quite a polemical statement, hear me out. WWhen I first started on Twitter, it was like a new world opening up. The Social Media World. I suddenly had access to ideas, concepts, people, blogs and unprecedented creativity. In my first 6 months on Twitter I joined two campaigns, uncovered a spy (no, really!) got two job offers, took part in a collaborative history project, wrote articles for an e-paper, and was generally overawed how Twitter could actively and tangibly change my life.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I didn't look too closely, or it all happened very stealthiliy.. but it all seems very different now. Has Twitter reverted to type? Is it becoming a catchment area for the terminally bored? Foursquare messages abound, evenings seem to be taken up by chatroom-like conversations with feeble jokes about too much alcohol and page-long farewells "Nite Nite R", "Sleep tight Hon", "Dont let the bed bugs bite xx" and so on and so on until it's time to start all over again in this tedious and pointless routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social Media? Don't kid yourself! Turf wars, pettily observed rules "I will only RT their blog post if they RT mine" spoil the concept and take the fun out of it. Some people get book deals or other publicity through Twitter - this is then cattily discussed and dissected "That's only because..." All very undignified and more akin to office politics then the big wide world of a new web generation!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;My personal disenchantment became tangible when a middle-aged matron started jealously policing my access to her partner  - someone I'd so far considered my social media guide. Another strand cut off. The whole thing is now more like a scene from a suburban meantown rather than a multi-lateral engagement platform. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's me,maybe it's come full-cirlcle.  Maybe it's time to quit, and look elsewhere for those once so prevalent creative impulse. Cause one thing's for sure -I don't want to be part of a jealous chatroom crowd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-4298779850127380839?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/4298779850127380839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/09/twitter-is-it-time-to-quit.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4298779850127380839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4298779850127380839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/09/twitter-is-it-time-to-quit.html' title='Twitter - Is It Time to Quit?'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TJBz7sG_TnI/AAAAAAAAAPA/t5CC05S7P-4/s72-c/twitter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-4766996905994433398</id><published>2010-09-10T13:53:00.011+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T14:15:31.844+01:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dutch is perfect... My Dutch is non-existent</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TIouOnqFzlI/AAAAAAAAAO4/UssO9eSbGFg/s1600/holland.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TIouOnqFzlI/AAAAAAAAAO4/UssO9eSbGFg/s400/holland.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515271522367163986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;If you read my posts regularly.... or occasionally, you will know that I have a special interest in languages. As I've said before there probably isn't a European language I haven't at one stage or other studied, started to learn, or at least examined the structure of. It's an obsession, I can't help it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;One language, however, I've never studied is Dutch. I have a funny relationship with that language that many people assume is so close to both German and English (my 2 "perfect" languages) - but which really is full of faux amis, and quite a treacherous little number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A funny relationship because on the one hand I'm ultra-perfect in it: My pronunciation is pitch-perfect and I defy anyone to conclude that wasn't born and bred in Haarlem when I read out a piece of text. Or speak it. Albeit the latter with an enormously restricted vocabulary, and preferably revolving round ball games, dolls, and "mens-erger-je-niet".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Why? Because I grew up in Holland, learnt the language solely by picking it up orally from our neighbours, especially their two daughters who were my best friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Other than that, my Dutch is non-existent. I cannot hold a normal adult conversation. I cannot spell at all in Dutch, I've never written a single sentence. It is a mystery to me how even the most ordinary greeting would be spelt (goej morgen? goeje avond? goed middag?.. something like that, but don't quote me on it!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;It always struck me as a bit unusual that you can feel utterly familiar with a language, and yet totally not know it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-4766996905994433398?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/4766996905994433398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-dutch-is-perfect-my-dutch-is-non.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4766996905994433398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4766996905994433398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-dutch-is-perfect-my-dutch-is-non.html' title='My Dutch is perfect... My Dutch is non-existent'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TIouOnqFzlI/AAAAAAAAAO4/UssO9eSbGFg/s72-c/holland.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-1709061160171703286</id><published>2010-08-25T12:42:00.025+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T13:30:20.117+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intercultural Identity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Edinburgh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Munich'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='move'/><title type='text'>From Edinburgh to Munich - A Personal Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/THUIGuc-ngI/AAAAAAAAAOo/d1jliCBiXPI/s1600/047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/THUIGuc-ngI/AAAAAAAAAOo/d1jliCBiXPI/s400/047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509318630799482370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/THUHRwFmQjI/AAAAAAAAAOg/V0QBCdiyHcQ/s1600/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/THUHRwFmQjI/AAAAAAAAAOg/V0QBCdiyHcQ/s400/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509317720705221170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm not a great one for writing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;personal blogs.  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I distrust their facile, almost masturbatory presentationism: Look this is my house, my cat, my husband, mybrilliant kids who (together with 99.8 percent of the others) got brilliantGCSE results etc. etc., and I dislike the hypocritical comments even more "Oh X,thanks for sharing, my kids are equally gifted, my house just as big...) There is something HyacinthBouquet-ish about personal blogs, and I certainly don't want to be associated with that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;But there it is, I'm writing one. If only as I thought a little explaining might be in order. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I've recently moved from a very northern town (Edinburgh) to quite a southern one (Munich). It's not actually that far: 827 miles - can this be quite right? It certainly feels like a totally different planet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Why did you do that, a lot of people have asked me. Maybe assuming I was some quirky traveller who tried out weird and wonderful locations, decided they weren't quite right, and then moved on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Well not quite. The reality is a little more prosaic, and it is one I share with lots of people in the modern world. I am a corporate spouse, as the official parlance goes. And wherever my husband's  job requires us to go, I will move.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;So I didn't choose Paris, London or Frankfurt, where we lived in the past. I did not choose Scotland, and neither did I choose to live in Munich. I just try and get on with what's thrown at me as best I can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The other thing that people have said to me recently about my move is "You must be elated, you're going back home". Home? Hmm. Most of you will probably know Munich better than I do. I've been here a few times as a tourist, but that's about it. Even in the wider frame, it's not homeby any stretch of the imagination. I was brought up in Holland and spent my formative years in England. Most of my family are in England. To be honest, I couldn't say where my "home" is. I've moved about so much, somewhere amongst the boxes, the new flats, and new experiences, the concept must have got lost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Still, I wouldn't want it any other way. I'm not ready to call a place my home, and settle there for good. I'm glad that I have the opportunity to try out new locations, tune my intercultural antennae, and maybe find out, one day, where I'd really like to live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Meanwhile thank you for sharing the journey!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-1709061160171703286?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/1709061160171703286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/08/from-edinburgh-to-munich-personal-blog.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/1709061160171703286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/1709061160171703286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/08/from-edinburgh-to-munich-personal-blog.html' title='From Edinburgh to Munich - A Personal Blog'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/THUIGuc-ngI/AAAAAAAAAOo/d1jliCBiXPI/s72-c/047.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-8083752510479845198</id><published>2010-07-19T15:18:00.023+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T17:36:47.983+01:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Trend-Predictions for the UK</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TER6daMnG7I/AAAAAAAAAOY/yTy3r6L7Bic/s1600/graph.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 299px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TER6daMnG7I/AAAAAAAAAOY/yTy3r6L7Bic/s400/graph.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495652090965859250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The situation in Britain is currently a bit like in an aeroplane after a bumpy flight: Passengers are a bit fed up, and had enough but feel that altogether it hasn't been too bad. On comes the voice of the captain, warning them that NOW "please fasten seat belts, we're in for some turbulence". Collective sigh goes through the cabin.In the light of the up-coming budget cuts I've been canvassing people, looked at Social Media behaviour and evaluated newspaper articles. On that basis, I have formulated 5 trends which I think will become relevant in the coming months, heading up to April 2011 when most of the cuts will have been implemented.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Retrenchment&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a sort of meta-trend which will influence and spin a lot of others.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Currently, the best way to monitor this trend is on Social Media sites like Twitter. People in the UK are boosting their accounts with local followers. Where somebody say 6 months ago had 300 followers from all over the world, they now have 600 with the on-top influx made up of followers from their home town/region. This makes perfect sense as people are huddling together not just for comfort, but for real and tangible benefits. Business contacts, future referees, people with clout in the ever shrinking  job market will prove useful when the going gets tough. Also,bartering services and skills will make an awful lot of sense when applied locally.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Going loco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;For some time now, people have preferred to holiday in Britain ratherthan  go abroad. Cost, currency fluctuations and travel disruption saw to this. In future, this tend will become a lot stronger. Not just abroad will hit the dust, but also any far-flung UK destination, like Scotland or Cornwall.  Petrol costs, and the unaffordable insecurity of whether a costly holiday will work out (weather, accommodation etc.) It is simply too risky to travel for hundreds of miles, spending hundreds of pounds just to find out you don't like what you see. Lots of people I spoke to have confirmed this trend, and have already made bookings far more locally, i.e. directly in their area. For example, local campsites in Essex for Londoners, will definitely see a business increase.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;3. Adieu Foodies&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating out in restaurants is expensive, and not always as pleasurable as hoped for. Few families in future will be prepared to take this financial risk, esp. with high prices and increased VAT. But not just restaurants, food in general will feel the pinch. This week, Waitrose has pre-emptively and quietly increased its prices, especially for pre-prepared food. As soon as families will feel the pinch, anything outlandish, experimental or simply too expensive will fall by the wayside. Experimenting will no longer be a part of eating/cooking. Faddish recipes and unknown ingredients will be out, traditional cooking methods and homely, cheap meals will be in. Already, food magazines are losing readers by droves. People are playing it very safe. Baking (esp. cupcakes which cost virtually nothing to make, but look pretty) is a major trend. Stews, one-posts etc. which can be re-heated on several occasions do not allow for the foodie-allure of the past decade.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Migration&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time round, migration will also be affected by the spirit of "no experimenting". People will not  be prepared to risk their whole livelihood by, say, emigrating to the US to make their fortune. Migration from economically disadvantaged areas like Scotland or Northern Ireland will be a lot more "local" thereby minimising cost and risk.  "Nearby" better-off places like Newcastle (for Scots) , or Liverpool for NI, will take the brunt of inner-British "migrants". If it doesn't work out, people can always go back. Also, cultural alienation and the feeling of being looked-down upon will be minimised if your background and values are still similar. Whilst people will still be hoping to do better for themselves, the are no longer prepared to seek a fortune in a totally alien environment and simply hope for the best.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Vote Labour&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Already, people are criticising the areas where budget cuts are deemed necessary. Regional dissatisfaction will also increase ("Why us"?) The natural receptacle for this discontent will be the opposition Labour party which should see a huge increase in membership and support. Already, Labour is organising vox pop protest forums on Social Media. In general, people will feel that "something  will have to be done" to raise their voice against a cut-trigger-happy government, especially when those cuts will hit targets that can easily be seen as "unfair", i. e. victimising the already disadvantaged (the elderly, poorer areas etc.)Voicing their opposition will need to be channelled, and the Labour party will be there to accommodate the vast numbers of dissenters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will continue monitoring social and cultural fluctuations over the coming months, and will be publishing further selected trends for specific areas. If you have any comments, I'd be most willing to incorporate them in what will become a major UK lifestyle study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-8083752510479845198?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/8083752510479845198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/07/5-trend-predictions-for-uk.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/8083752510479845198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/8083752510479845198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/07/5-trend-predictions-for-uk.html' title='5 Trend-Predictions for the UK'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TER6daMnG7I/AAAAAAAAAOY/yTy3r6L7Bic/s72-c/graph.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-5830149442315202601</id><published>2010-07-13T09:49:00.017+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T10:45:05.042+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='multi-cultural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='swearing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='interculturalism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='catholic'/><title type='text'>On Swearing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TDwuAbdcetI/AAAAAAAAAOI/DF-SmGtnl3U/s1600/soap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 313px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TDwuAbdcetI/AAAAAAAAAOI/DF-SmGtnl3U/s400/soap.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493316230391298770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;A couple of times, recently, I got told off for swearing. It wasn't  actually swearing though -  I'd used the word "wanker" - so in the  parlance of the anti-swearing brigade that should be called "bad  language" I suppose.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit I always found people who go  "tut tut" or "language please", or suck their teeth on hearing a swear  word slightly comical. "Wash your mouth out with soap", they say, and I  just want to say "oh do get out more".&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because that is exactly  the point -the very people who are "ever so sensitive" when it comes to  swearing - and do I detect a slight Northern bias there - blithely  overlook the sordidness of a Friday night culture in all its obscene  glory - mooning blokes, obscenely dressed women, drunken behaviour of  the most objectionable and shameless sort etc etc. -but say "Fuck", and  they react like lace-capped spinsters in a Victorian village.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Indeed I find there is something  weirdly camp in their utter  shockedness, their hurt and pained looks, and their slightly pitying but  ultimately forgiving look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to the Northern topic, I wonder  if there is something in Methodist circles that explicitly forbids  swearing.  I suppose there must be, but I don't understand the reason.  "Don't use the name of the Lord in vain" - yes from a religious point  that makes sense (this also exists in Catholicism) and I do understand  that religious people don't want to listen to "In God's name..." or "For  Christ's sake". But that is something entirely different from saying  "shit", or "fuck".&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Maybe it is a way of expressing to the world  how refined you are. That you take offence at coarse language. I think  that comes closer to the truth, and also explains the slightly comical-  old-maidish impression those people make. One feels a bit sorry for them  because their ruse of fake sophistication didn't work.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm not so keen on, though, is their assumption that everybody  shares those values, may just have temporarily forgotten, and therefore  needs "reminding", and if that doesn't help, a firm telling-off. It' sno  longer common practice to go round telling people what's what in your  books, and assume other will take kindly to your viewpoint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My own  background for example (Southern, Catholic, middle-class) does not  negatively sanction swearing/bad language. I don't therefore quite see why I should  adhere to "standards" that are neither commonly accepted nor at all  aspirational.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I presume they would say: I feel offended by swearing and bad language.  Well, apart from thinking, it's more a case of petulant prissyness,  everybody in a multi-cultural society has to put up with a degree of   "offense". Muslim people feel offended by the way we dress here, but  they don't go round telling people off.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Upper-class people and  the aristocracy have always sworn, so has the working-class. It's just  the "refoined" bit in the lower echelons in the middle that thinks they  have to teach the world good manners. And good manners in their books,  is using "nice" language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a pity that they end up with a comedy  vocabulary "Pardon my French" and "You naughty little so-and-so" they  say.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Maybe it's time to realise that not everybody shares either your  background, nor your values. And that the times where you could claim  cultural superiority, lead the way, and show people the errors of THEIR  ways are definitely over.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Soap, please!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-5830149442315202601?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/5830149442315202601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/07/on-swearing.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/5830149442315202601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/5830149442315202601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/07/on-swearing.html' title='On Swearing'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TDwuAbdcetI/AAAAAAAAAOI/DF-SmGtnl3U/s72-c/soap.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-3203215295633107985</id><published>2010-06-21T14:30:00.012+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T14:39:55.682+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='football'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='interculturalism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PR'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language'/><title type='text'>Rich Pickings for the Interculturalist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TB9qeY9CKiI/AAAAAAAAANo/JDtxCRzY0Qg/s1600/rooney.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TB9qeY9CKiI/AAAAAAAAANo/JDtxCRzY0Qg/s400/rooney.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485219941487618594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p style="" class="ecxMsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;These are heady days for anybody interested in  intercultural issues – starting with BP's various gaffes, which are not  just PR disasters but show a lack of cross-cultural understanding…. and  then the various on-goings with the England football team that are not  just a sporting issue but indicate a breakdown in inter-European  discourse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;BP&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="ecxMsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Times  New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Can anybody understand each other- even when they're  allegedly speaking the same language? It seemed communication was  almost at breaking-point when BP's Tony Hayward testified at the US  congress this week. US governors from Southerrn States - well spoken and  immaculately prepared  - were reduced to  apoplectic rage, shouting "Yes or No, Mr. Hayward???" when once again  British Hayward proferred an "Oim afraid I can't tell you that"  response, or tried hedging with "Oi believe that's the case". These  weren't just the prevarications drilled into him by Brunswick PR. Almost  every other language (certainly European) uses the words "yes" for  affirmation and "No" for dissent. Not so British English - a veritable  pitfall for anybody who didn't grow up with it. Say "No thank you"  (which sounds polite enough to most ears) to the offer of a cup of tea,  and you're classified as rude in England. "Very kind, but I think I'm  alright for the moment." would be the correct response. Another example –  in British English, it’s fine to say “I think so, yes” when what is  meant is “yes”, whereas to many other cultures it sounds like a  statement of uncertainty. Or indeed obfuscation. Americans do not share  this habit or passion for circumlocution. To them, a refusal to answer  yes or no smacks of obfuscation and weaselliness. Brunswick PR would  have been well advised to look into this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The England Team and Fabby-o  Capello&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;div&gt;Another intercultural hot spot is the on-going uneasiness  between the England football manager Fabio Capello and his team. This is  fascinating as again a linguistic culture-clash becomes a problem of  national concern. Maybe it was never a good idea to employ a manager who  could not speak  a  word of English when he started, and is only  vaguely beginning to make himself understood now.  It seems quite  incomprehensible how he manages to convey intricate issues (well ok, we  are talking football)... But that is purely a language issue and not an  intercultural one. The expectations of an unrelenting, seemingly  autocratic Italian used to hierarchical structures in 1970's Italian  club culture sit uneasily with an oafish (and to many Brits equally  incomprehensible) Rooney, say. Peevishness, resentment, frustrated  blokeishness ("We always just sat in our rooms", J.Terry) form an  explosive alliance which obviously does not bring out the best in  everybody. As one football commentator put it "The squad thought he was  different".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rooney&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne Rooney is also an interesting  intercultural phenomenon, although this time it's unrelated to language.  In England, Rooney enjoys near-messianic cult-status amongst broad  swathes of the population. The image of him  draped in a St George's  flag has become iconic. Foreigners however, just see him as an  un-prepossessing,  slightly flabby teenager who rants and grunts at  fans. Rooney is so much the epitome of what English football is all  about - the will to win, to crusade and conquer, pride in wearing the  shirt, an unintellectual approach to the point of oafishness… that his  image will never translate into any other culture. Which guarantees two  things: Rooney will be "England til he dies", as no European football  club would want to be saddled with him; and secondly that he will never  be a marketing torch-bearer for international football, like say David  Beckham.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interculturalism has so many fascinating aspects, but it  all depends on your perspective: Like an Australian friend commented  the other day when told about all the undercurrents and likes and  dislikes between nations. "You Europeans are funny".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-3203215295633107985?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/3203215295633107985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/06/rich-pickings-for-interculturalist.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/3203215295633107985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/3203215295633107985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/06/rich-pickings-for-interculturalist.html' title='Rich Pickings for the Interculturalist'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/TB9qeY9CKiI/AAAAAAAAANo/JDtxCRzY0Qg/s72-c/rooney.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-7824908789065013887</id><published>2010-05-25T08:58:00.012+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T10:44:03.504+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Britain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bulgaria'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Euro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='housing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tribalism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Germany'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='economy'/><title type='text'>The Euro - A Non-British View</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S_uNmi4ZahI/AAAAAAAAANQ/Ncxg5SEVQ54/s1600/euros.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S_uNmi4ZahI/AAAAAAAAANQ/Ncxg5SEVQ54/s400/euros.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475125465336867346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;According to the British press, the Euro hardly exists anymore. European countries - or as they like to call it - the "Eurozone" are destitute, people staging angry protests, imploring their leaders to abolish the Euro.  I have a few things to say about that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;First of all, Europe is not a zone. Just because Britain would not (or could not - remember those desperate John Major days when even hyper-interst inflation would not help) join  in, does not make anybody else a "zone". It's like Cuba calling the US the "Democracy-zone".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Secondly, more importantly, and probably totally outside the British "zone" of imagination: Europe isn't a sort of Poundstretcher shop where you go if you want something cheap. Europe is first and foremost a dream.  Why should "The United States of Europe" be less feasible than the "United States of America", the beloved and only wished-for partner Britons would be happy with. (Shame, the US is both broke, and doesn't give a hoot about Britain.) So, why is "The United States of Europe" such anathema? "Oh, it would never work... the countries are too different". I see, but Florida and Alaska are quite similar are they? Red Necks in Minnesota really gel with New York  metropolitans, do they? So that's not it. It is of course, as ever the fear of a powerful Germany. The perma-bind of British thinking that finds it impossible to get beyond the mindset of the Yalta conference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Few memories are more off-putting than a hysterical Margaret Thatcher screeching "No, no, no". Even the unspeakable Ian Paisley had more dignity with his infamous "Ulster says no"slogan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;But why always say "No" to everything which doesn't automatically translate into some grubby "And now we're quids in" thinking? Britain's attitude to the Euro is unfortunately typical of its general world-view. Like suspicious peasants who hate anything that smacks of idealism and has an intellectual underpinning, they nevertheless would like to go on a profiteering spree. When it looked as if the uniquely strange British housing market - with its hyper-inflated prices for something objectively worthless - could be extended into the Eurozone, Brits were not above to doing a few deals.  Busloads of wannabe-Euro landlords turned up in far-flung countries like Bulgaria, gobbling up off-plan housing that never materialized. British pensioners flocked to bungalows in Spain, hoping to make a killing via the Euro. A very British way to participate at the wrong end of something which is outside their grasp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;So the Euro is going through a difficult patch? So maybe it could have been forseen that Greece and Ireland didn't have the economic muscle of  Germany and France? Big deal. Big intellectual insight. The Euro - being a common European currency is the first step towards a united, peaceful, and non-antagonistic Europe.  A Europe without squabbling, internecine warfare, and tribalism - all of which are not just wrecking Britain atmospherically, but are also responsible for its abysmal economic performance. Saying "No" to everything is easy, but it is neither attractive, nor admirable. It's just sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-7824908789065013887?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/7824908789065013887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/05/euro-non-british-view.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/7824908789065013887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/7824908789065013887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/05/euro-non-british-view.html' title='The Euro - A Non-British View'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S_uNmi4ZahI/AAAAAAAAANQ/Ncxg5SEVQ54/s72-c/euros.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-4190486573554337211</id><published>2010-04-19T16:26:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T17:12:52.832+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog intercultural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>5 Reasons Why I Don't Really Like Blogging</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S8yAK3ri3QI/AAAAAAAAAMc/5IzeHh4ZS_o/s1600/5070827_2c27cf2151.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 334px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S8yAK3ri3QI/AAAAAAAAAMc/5IzeHh4ZS_o/s400/5070827_2c27cf2151.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461881372327206146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I've been taking a blog break. I didn't visit my site at all, in fact I pretended I didn't have a blog (consequently I haven't looked at my blog roll either and haven't written any comments on my favourite blogs... apologies for that!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I just felt I needed a break from the relentless (if self-imposed) ritual of writing a post every other week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I have been thinking about blogging though, and why - for me - it's a chore rather than a pleasure. I hope that by reflecting about it, I can overcome my hesitations, and I'm also hoping for some tips - maybe from people who've been doing it for longer than me. The following are my thoughts, they're not complaints or rants, or anything serious - just some reflections.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;(1) I am still struggling with the formatting and layout. When I upload photos, it can still happen that my whole body-copy gets messed up and shaken around. That's defintely something I find discouraging... but of course I know this is my own fault and could be overcome by better know-how!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;(2) I am very very interested in my chosen "field". I find inter-/cross/-meta-cultural communication and everything related to it fascinating. However, this subject doen't easily find a like-minded community, like say Food, or History, or Photography. I therefore feel I lack community-support. Like I'm just writing about some odd-ball topic which people are happy to share to a certain extent, but don't find very relevant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;(3) I'm not totally comfortable with the shifting balance of personal confession and purveying of information. I know some people are happy writing about their dog, husband, or innermost feelings. And that's perfectly alright. But that sort of public diary-confessional isn't me. I recently read a post which got 30 comments, almost all of which said "Great post, thank you for sharing". That's not what I want to do at all. But it's not possible to go all scientific, and technical because a blog just isn't the right format, and readers aren't sufficiently interested (quite rightly!) to go down that route with you.  So for me, there remains an uneasy balance between information and confession.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;(4) Whilst a blog is your very own form of expression, and can in theory be written and designed  however you want to, I feel that would be an imposition on my readers. It cannot for example, be terribly long. People would quite rightly switch off. Which means you have to talk about a subject which can easily be handled in bite-size pieces. Ideally with a short intro, a bit of banter, and own experience, and then rounded up with a question or statment at the end which makes readers want to comment. But a lot of interesting topics cannot be presented in such a way. Are they therefore unbloggable? I fear that's the case.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;(5) My last point, and by far the gravest, is the promoting of posts. I really really (and I mean really) dislike hawking my stuff around and getting on people's nerves. But there's so much pressure - after all the comments are what connects you to your readers, so you need to pull' em in. I have been very fortunate with my comments, and have often felt that the comments were more interesting than what I'd written. But that doesn't make the promoting any easier....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;How do you feel about blogging? Do you have similar concerns? Do you feel blogging is fun and worthwhile? I feel I could really do with some advice...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-4190486573554337211?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/4190486573554337211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/04/5-reasons-why-i-dont-really-like.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4190486573554337211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4190486573554337211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/04/5-reasons-why-i-dont-really-like.html' title='5 Reasons Why I Don&apos;t Really Like Blogging'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S8yAK3ri3QI/AAAAAAAAAMc/5IzeHh4ZS_o/s72-c/5070827_2c27cf2151.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-697342911400860387</id><published>2010-04-03T18:03:00.033+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T14:06:08.225+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bread'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='learning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language'/><title type='text'>I Love Languages</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7huUnYQctI/AAAAAAAAALk/p5mh_09N-SY/s1600/language.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7huUnYQctI/AAAAAAAAALk/p5mh_09N-SY/s400/language.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456232249006518994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I can't really imagine what it's like not to speak more than language.  I think everyone I know does.  Maybe that's just a sign of the times. People are not so rooted in one place anymore, they go abroad to study, they have foreign friends. Increasingly, people are forced to leave their country to find jobs elsewhere, so of course they need to be able to speak the language. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;For me, it wasn't really a choice. I grew up bi-lingually, and then we moved to Holland, where I went to an international school. So mono-lingualism wasn't really an option. But as far as I'm concerned, learning languages isn't really a chore. I don't think there was ever any time in my life when I wasn't busy learning a language -not always successfullly!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Languages I started and then gave up on: Japanese, Russian, Old Norse, Turkish, Norwegian, Arabic, Ancient Greek, Bahasa Indonesia.....oh dear!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Still, it was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;fun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;, and not just that.  Learning languages - and this is more than a truism - helps you appreciate that cultures are really very different.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Think of the word 'Bread' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7iG9RIu42I/AAAAAAAAAL8/cR3BcYtAWqM/s1600/white+bread.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 117px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7iG9RIu42I/AAAAAAAAAL8/cR3BcYtAWqM/s200/white+bread.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456259335689528162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                            хлеб&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7iJPC52BmI/AAAAAAAAAME/JFKK8kJzf1w/s1600/russian+bread.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 114px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7iJPC52BmI/AAAAAAAAAME/JFKK8kJzf1w/s200/russian+bread.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456261840129885794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;לֶחֶם&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7iJkk9_F6I/AAAAAAAAAMU/P6ZnLHez4ns/s1600/jewish+bread.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 78px; height: 78px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7iJkk9_F6I/AAAAAAAAAMU/P6ZnLHez4ns/s200/jewish+bread.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456262210051315618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7iFrca5h5I/AAAAAAAAAL0/ve1VE1A2Lt0/s1600/german+bread.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7iFrca5h5I/AAAAAAAAAL0/ve1VE1A2Lt0/s200/german+bread.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456257929969239954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Brot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;These aren't just different WORDS arethey? They are a porthole into a different culture - how people live, eat, imagine food, what they eat with 'bread' (couldn't have a ploughmans with that cholla, could you?).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm quite curious to hear what your experiences are with languages? Do youl like learning them? Do you speak them when abroad? What was your first reaction when you first encountered the adventure of a foreign word? Please let me know... I'd love to hear your views!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-697342911400860387?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/697342911400860387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-love-languages.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/697342911400860387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/697342911400860387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-love-languages.html' title='I Love Languages'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S7huUnYQctI/AAAAAAAAALk/p5mh_09N-SY/s72-c/language.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-4814118438095805193</id><published>2010-03-24T10:37:00.026Z</published><updated>2010-03-24T12:38:46.911Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Britain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oxford'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='multicultural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='interculturalism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduate'/><title type='text'>Oxford - Et in Arcadia Ego?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S6n3F64V_iI/AAAAAAAAAK8/T_TbSy2X9I8/s1600/hertford.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S6n3F64V_iI/AAAAAAAAAK8/T_TbSy2X9I8/s400/hertford.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452160504985681442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;After graduating, I came to England. I had got a job as lecturer at Hertford College, Oxford. The appointment ("tenure") was for 2 years.  These two years turned out to be the happiest of my life - after Oxford, nothing ever really lives up to it, you just get used to things because you have to... But that's not what I'm writing about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I was about 100 years younger than the youngest don there, so whilst officially part of the Senior Common Room (all the teaching staff of a college), my social life happened in the MCR (i.e. the graduate students). I still saw a lot of my colleagues though, mainly at the daily High Table dinner where you wear a gown, Grace is said in Latin, and you make formal conversation over not so good food.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd expect an Oxford college to be a hub of academic internationalism. Researchers from all over the world mingling for multinational exchanges. But this wasn't the case at all.  I was the only foreigner and one of only two women. Conversation with me at High Table was laboured - Rhine cruises were remembered, and war reminscences (possibly not their own, their fathers'?) offered with the tough duck à l'orange. Narvik featured heavily. It wasn't easy to chime in, I had never been on a Rhine cruise "That must have been so lovely!" and Narvik meant nothing to me "That must have been... terrible!"&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over in the MCR,  it was the polar opposite - the graduate students came from all over the world, fee-paying Americans, Japanese, Nigerians, Dutch. In fact I only remember one British national there. It was lively, fun, international - one got to know people and learnt an awful lot.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It struck me, that living in Britain, my life is still organised along those lines: The international background through family, friends, travel, and media.  And on the other side there's Britain. Yes, there may be a whole multicultural aspect to it, but that SCR-Britain prevails.  British reality is still mono-lingual, awkward with foreigners, still treating "abroad" with polite suspicion.  It still chews on that tough duck. Proudly chewing, but  inward-looking, and increasingly marginalised.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*)&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;On the photo, the window of my room, second floor on the left hand side, is just about visible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-4814118438095805193?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/4814118438095805193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/03/oxford-et-in-arcadia-ego.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4814118438095805193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4814118438095805193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/03/oxford-et-in-arcadia-ego.html' title='Oxford - Et in Arcadia Ego?'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S6n3F64V_iI/AAAAAAAAAK8/T_TbSy2X9I8/s72-c/hertford.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-7580476291673472105</id><published>2010-03-15T16:37:00.018Z</published><updated>2010-03-15T19:00:11.007Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='foodie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='El Bulli'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='British food'/><title type='text'>The Pretentious Foodie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S55vKB9kwJI/AAAAAAAAAK0/pjGL-5Jf1rU/s1600-h/fork.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S55vKB9kwJI/AAAAAAAAAK0/pjGL-5Jf1rU/s400/fork.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448914817280950418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;You know the type... the one who urges you to book into El Bulli before it closes "I can put in a good word for you, and tell Ferran to give you the chicken skins as an ante-starter, they're absolutely divine..." He's been to more Michelin starred restaurants than you've had cheeseburgers and can tell you the difference between a Hollandaise and a Bearnaise with a slight sneer at your ignorance.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would classify myself as VERY interested in food/cooking/nutrition etc. but I feel dreadfully put off by all those bores who want to tell you what's what. The best bagel in New York? Salt beef in East London? Borschtsch in Moscow? Yeah, please just go away, I prefer to find out for myself.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Another most irritating characteristic of the Pretentious Foodie (PF) is his (they are mostly male, funnily enough) prediliction to call  perfectly ordinary ingredients or dishes by their foreign names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not of the "Call a spade a spade"-brigade, but I bristle at people who - with a thick English accent - happily talk about "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;prosciutto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;", "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;petit pois&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;", or "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;moules&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;". The Pretentious Foodie does not realise he just sounds like a provincial sea-side hotel in the Fifties. I recently read about a trade union leader who rather than having sandwiches, asked for "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;goujons de sole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;" -so very genteel. But my personal favourite in the PF stakes is calling "steak and chips"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; steak frites &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;- how very sophisticated. Not.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What next? Call a baked potato &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;un pomme de terre au four&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I've often wondered why food of all things attracts such a lot of pretentious types. I mean, okay - music, or literature... but food??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-7580476291673472105?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/7580476291673472105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/03/pretentious-foodie.html#comment-form' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/7580476291673472105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/7580476291673472105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/03/pretentious-foodie.html' title='The Pretentious Foodie'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S55vKB9kwJI/AAAAAAAAAK0/pjGL-5Jf1rU/s72-c/fork.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-906703083382154520</id><published>2010-03-06T11:30:00.023Z</published><updated>2010-03-06T12:45:06.614Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Irish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pleasures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ireland'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Irish pub'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Itally'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pizza'/><title type='text'>Intercultural Icons -The Pizza and The Pub</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S5JJ-0PWwtI/AAAAAAAAAKs/ul6eR3SJw3w/s1600-h/irish+pub2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S5JJ-0PWwtI/AAAAAAAAAKs/ul6eR3SJw3w/s400/irish+pub2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445496242968117970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Whatever country you choose to go in the world - two things are certain: You will most certainly find an Irish Pub there and you will find some pizza. Why is that? What makes them so ubiquitously popular? How do they manage to cross borders so easily - why does everybody from Japan to Chile love a slice of tomato-y dough or a good sing along and a glass of the black stuff?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;And that's precisely not the point: it isn' about what you actually get. Instead, it's about what everybody associates with them. Pizza - that means Italian homecooking at its best. Simple, tasty, unfussy. And in an Irish pub you can be sure of congeniality, great vibe, craic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;So you become part of a concept you secretly adore. There is no exclusion, no snobbishness about either. Everybody can share, everybody likes what you like, and everybody is happy. So really, it's about a community you're "biting" into - the simple lost world of homeliness and comfort.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Ireland and Italy with their metoynmic offerings - have managed what other countries struggle with. They've exported their national symbols and in turn got people to associate those very values with their nations. Maybe not everything in Ireland is that congenial, maybe Italy in reality isn't that homely and comforting... But so what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I am full of admiration that some countries manage to spread such &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;joie de vivre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;, such a feeling of togetherness and shared value on an international, and poly-cultural  scene - and with so little effort!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Oh and Happy up-coming St.Patrick's Day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-906703083382154520?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/906703083382154520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/03/intercultural-icons-pizza-and-pub.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/906703083382154520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/906703083382154520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/03/intercultural-icons-pizza-and-pub.html' title='Intercultural Icons -The Pizza and The Pub'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S5JJ-0PWwtI/AAAAAAAAAKs/ul6eR3SJw3w/s72-c/irish+pub2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-2988022878127191826</id><published>2010-02-24T21:37:00.041Z</published><updated>2010-02-25T12:43:20.410Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New York'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Interview'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adorno'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Frankfurt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Germany'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Frankfurt - An Interview with Mariam M.Kobras</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S4ZtuVBKdTI/AAAAAAAAAKk/CvZaa5NeY_k/s1600-h/frankfurt2ow2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S4ZtuVBKdTI/AAAAAAAAAKk/CvZaa5NeY_k/s400/frankfurt2ow2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442157842407257394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="ecxApple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'American Typewriter';font-size:medium;"  &gt;&lt;span class="ecxApple-style-span" style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Mariam, you were born in Frankfurt and know the town really well - how would you describe Frankfurt to someone who doesn't know it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Frankfurt is a very modern town. It is dominated by its Financial District and the high rise buildings that make up the  impressive skyline  - and by a lively intellectual scene, enlivened by the annual Book Fair, the most important one world wide. Sadly, not a lot of the old town is left. You won't find a lot of historical buildings or a lovely medieval part in Frankfurt, but you will find diversity! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Growing up in Frankfurt, we were very strongly influenced by the American Way of Life because of the presence of the US Military in our surroundings, and you still get a lot of that now. Of all German cities I have seen. Frankfurt had the liberty to embrace the ease and pace of America early on. Thus, the high rise building? Never thought of it like this before, but it makes sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Today, Frankfurt is a little like New York, I think. It is the closest to New York that I can see in Europe.&lt;span class="ecxApple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'American Typewriter';font-size:medium;"  &gt;&lt;span class="ecxApple-style-span" style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When you're there,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mariam, are you aware of a special feel about it? Meaning, is it different from other (German) towns?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;All cities feel different from each other, I think, and a good thing, too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;There is something about Frankfurt though that is indeed special: I never got a feeling of "old" history in Frankfurt, like, say in Nuremberg or Munich. It has a distinct "After WW2" feeling to me, as if the city re-invented itself then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;There are some historical highlights, of course, like Goethe's birth place and the Paulskirche and City Hall, but that's about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="ecxApple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'American Typewriter';font-size:medium;"  &gt;&lt;span class="ecxApple-style-span" style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Would you say there is a "Frankfurt mentality"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Not.... really.  Or is there?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I think there is a strong intellectual mentality, which has its origin in the Philosophical Scene that developed around Adorno and his group, and of course the ever-present Book Fair. Way in the East of the city, where it borders on Offenbach, you'll find Oberrad, which is a bit of a surprise because it is indeed something like a farming area. That is where the famous "Green Sauce" herbs are grown. A small heart of the old Frankfurt, where you will also hear the original dialect being spoken. These people are "natives", and indeed have a mentality of their own.&lt;span class="ecxApple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'American Typewriter';font-size:medium;"  &gt;&lt;span class="ecxApple-style-span" style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- That's facinating! Is there anything in particular you yourself like especially&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's home. It's where I went to school and to the movies and shopping, and I love to return whenever I can. I've long since lost the native language, but when I'm back, I'll fall into the patois within the hour. There is one place I love particularly, the Kleinmarkthalle, a farmers' market inside a huge, old hall  right in the center of the city where you can buy EVERYTHING that is edible all year long. I've never seen anything like it anywhere else in the world. Oh, and I lied further up about history: Frankfurt has one of the most wonderful Gothic cathedrals ever, and a number of German emperors and kings were crowned there. ("Kaiserdom")&lt;br /&gt;And I like the food in Frankfurt. The local, hearty fair, but also the curries, sushi, the Malaysian, Arabian, Indian, Thai (especially that!!!) American, French, Italian.... oh you name it. Another thing I like very much are the museums along the Main river. The city has done a brilliant  job there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Mariam, this has been absolutely fascinating. You talk so animatedly about your home town. I could imagine, quite a few people have now become quite curious to see what it's like... in fact I'm very much looking forward to going there myself in a couple of weeks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="ecxApple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'American Typewriter';font-size:medium;"  &gt;&lt;span class="ecxApple-style-span" style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Mariam M. Kobras is a writer and teacher. Check out her profile and blog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;http://meetthemimosaclub.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-2988022878127191826?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/2988022878127191826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/02/frankfurt-interview-with-mariam-mkobras.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2988022878127191826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2988022878127191826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/02/frankfurt-interview-with-mariam-mkobras.html' title='Frankfurt - An Interview with Mariam M.Kobras'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S4ZtuVBKdTI/AAAAAAAAAKk/CvZaa5NeY_k/s72-c/frankfurt2ow2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-4990375564730122431</id><published>2010-02-14T09:06:00.015Z</published><updated>2010-02-14T10:32:47.769Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='xenophobia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scotland'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='supremacy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nationalism'/><title type='text'>I'm sorry - Nationalism is Not Acceptable</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S3fPdXhSKGI/AAAAAAAAAKc/b8o3U31oimk/s1600-h/scottish.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 223px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S3fPdXhSKGI/AAAAAAAAAKc/b8o3U31oimk/s400/scottish.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438043178509936738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Nationalism - especially in its celtic varieties exudes a certain panache that chimes in with a lot of people. Moody landscapes, knitted Aran jumpers, hauntingly romantic songs, and maybe the odd rugged-looking native. What's not to like?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Since I've been living in Scotland, I was able to observe it at close quarters - and have totally changed my mind. Nationalism is based on the belief of the supremacy of one's own nation above all others. In its day to day appearance, it is ugly, spiteful, and hurts anybody who is not of that nation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;"Everybody here is nationalist, in one way or another", a journalist friend told me recently, "and everybody dislikes the English". Oh right. So that is acceptable to say things like that, is it? No way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Whilst support for the actual Nationalist Party in Scotland has waned, this is just a reflection on the fact that most voters now know that secession from Britain is no longer economically possible. Nationalism as such, however, is on the rise. And there is nothing to curb it, as "everybody thinks that way".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;So "everybody" here thinks nothing of it when obese thugs (nationalism is much stronger in poor, uneducated strata of the population) glower at people who, say, speak on the mobile in a foreign language. Bus drivers habitually profess not to understand you when you speak with an English accent. Any criticism, if only of the weather, is met with utter hostility, and a threatening glare. When two English people talk to each other in a shop, the other shoppers fall silent, and everybody stares at the offenders. Officially, the line about Eastern European workers is that they are very welcome.  They don't feel welcome, I've spoken to many of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The hatred is sharp, visceral and ubiquitous. You don't have to go football matches or obscure pubs to feel frightened by it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I understand that nationalism and chauvinism come about through feeling marginalised, economically disadvantaged and bitter. But bigotry, xenophobia and hatred of people who aren't like you  cannot be an acceptable form of voicing your frustration.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;For me, the ugly face of nationalism is definitely a big problem when it comes to living in Scotland.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-4990375564730122431?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/4990375564730122431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-sorry-nationalism-is-not-acceptable.html#comment-form' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4990375564730122431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4990375564730122431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-sorry-nationalism-is-not-acceptable.html' title='I&apos;m sorry - Nationalism is Not Acceptable'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S3fPdXhSKGI/AAAAAAAAAKc/b8o3U31oimk/s72-c/scottish.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-6320679959044685323</id><published>2010-01-31T17:35:00.024Z</published><updated>2010-02-04T09:04:07.172Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='philology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seasons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='literature'/><title type='text'>Snow in February</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S2qLOOhxifI/AAAAAAAAAKU/VrIQ7eEzSHs/s1600-h/snow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S2qLOOhxifI/AAAAAAAAAKU/VrIQ7eEzSHs/s400/snow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434308976910109170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;It's quite funny with snow... two weeks before Christmas, we're all longing for it. Snow makes Christmas special, memorable and magical. Come February, though, it's a different matter. Suddenly snow is a nuisance - cars skidding, roads blocked, trains late, airports closed. No more magic. I can't stand the stuff, we say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;It's rare that love turns to hate so decisively. Why can't we remember all that cosiness, that fluffy, secure feeling snow gave us at Christmas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;This led me to think about snow outside the cosy, fairy tale image of it. And I suppose as a philologist, it was only natural for me to look at literature.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;In Russia, where snow sticks around often til April, books are covered in snow so to speak, and not always in a good way. Russian writers know that snow can be evil. From  Pushkin's "Snow Storm" to Joseph Brodsky's famous line "After such snow, there is nothing indeed" -snow is used as a profoundly disturbing and alienating element of existential change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;In Thomas Mann's Magic Mountain, the Snow chapter is  a turning-point for the protagonist who barely survives the blizzard. And Orhan Parmuk's novel "Snow" takes the white stuff as a complex metaphor for Anatolia's remoteness and frozenness in a dangerous belief-structure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Pesonally, I think it's good to be reminded that nature won't always do as we please. That it is still a force of its own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;But that doesn't mean I want more snow now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-6320679959044685323?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/6320679959044685323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/01/snow-in-february.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/6320679959044685323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/6320679959044685323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/01/snow-in-february.html' title='Snow in February'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S2qLOOhxifI/AAAAAAAAAKU/VrIQ7eEzSHs/s72-c/snow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-453505602305179940</id><published>2010-01-17T18:21:00.028Z</published><updated>2010-01-18T21:55:34.804Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wim Wenders'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='George Clooney'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='existential'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fim review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Up In the Air'/><title type='text'>Up in the Air- Aspects of America</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S1TX_N24p3I/AAAAAAAAAKM/3QhDKhcvKKo/s1600-h/up+in+the+air.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S1TX_N24p3I/AAAAAAAAAKM/3QhDKhcvKKo/s400/up+in+the+air.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428200931939886962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Whenever one says anything, and I mean anything at all about America these days, it is customary to start out with the disclaimer "I'm not anti-American, but..." Well, I'm not really anti- anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;But,yes I do have some problems with America, or rather with the cultural influence America wields over Europe.  Deal with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;But yesterday I saw this film "Up In the Air" with George Clooney - and yes, he is quite easy on hte eye - but that's a different story. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The film is about a guy who works for a sub-contractor whose business it is to fre people. These scenes are brutal, there is no other word. Real life people's first reactions to the message "Your position is no longer available" is recorded. It is painful, it is raw, and it is honest - and I say all credit to you, America! For scenes like these have not been happening in US movies - maybe forever. And it gets worse, for the Clooney character really gets it in the neck. AND you see scenes from small-town America you've not seen before. Madison Avenue this ain't. Or Disneyland. Or L.A. This is nothing like you've ever seen about America before. Not glossy, not chic, not aspirational. These are provincial, dumbed-down, dirt-poor, awful towns. These are existential images that Wim Wenders in Paris, Texas aspired to, but never managed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;And you know what? All credit to you, America! That something so raw, so cynical, but ultimately so true and so touching can come out of this country which I - as your consummate European - had written off long ago, That IS something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Chapeau bas, America!! Here's to you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Go see the movie, as they say over there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-453505602305179940?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/453505602305179940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/01/up-in-air.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/453505602305179940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/453505602305179940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/01/up-in-air.html' title='Up in the Air- Aspects of America'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S1TX_N24p3I/AAAAAAAAAKM/3QhDKhcvKKo/s72-c/up+in+the+air.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-5998052357638508067</id><published>2010-01-09T16:35:00.024Z</published><updated>2010-01-09T17:40:10.896Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='France'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='intellectuals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tourists'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>France - Why Do We Love It So?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S0ixVbq7QeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/BCFsduWOul0/s1600-h/paris.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S0ixVbq7QeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/BCFsduWOul0/s400/paris.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424780732930933218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;What exactly is it about France that makes everybody utter the sort of vowell-y noises more commonly associated with pictures of tiny pets or scrumptious dishes of food? I mean, nobody goes googoo over Denmark, or Macedonia do they? And those are nice places too....&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong -I am just as besotted by it! My favourite holiday would always be...in Paris? In the lovely Languedoc? Or beautiful Brittany? But still, there must be something about that country which appeals to us more than anywhere - what is it? &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food, I hear you say. The lifestyle, the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;joie de vivre&lt;/span&gt;, they drink a lot of nice wine, the women have such style, they dress so much better over there, the men are so good-looking - they just know HOW TO LIVE.  And then there is Paris of course, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;ah si belle, si chic!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; Apart from Spaniards, Brits are the most frequent Eiffel Tower climbers, did you know that - now that's true devotion!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all KNOW of course that there are fat, badly-dressed women in France, there is food you wish you'd never seen let alone eaten, there are social problems (those &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;grands ensembles&lt;/span&gt; on the outskirts of Paris aren't exactly beautyspots are they?) and the lovely family gatherings we envy so can be oppressive and fraught with tension.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's more that France allows you to live out your dreams - if you're into fashion, why where else to look  than the avenue Montaigne? If you're a foodie, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;bien sur,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; you've dined in that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;très chic resto&lt;/span&gt; in Valbonne. You can discuss Henri-Bernard Lévy ("Ash-Be-El") or Edith Duflo if you're intellectually minded. Or you could just go to the beach. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;France  has the unique ability to provide the perfect answer for anybody's dreams, longings and, passions. I think THAT's why we love it so...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-5998052357638508067?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/5998052357638508067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/01/france-why-do-we-love-it-so.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/5998052357638508067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/5998052357638508067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2010/01/france-why-do-we-love-it-so.html' title='France - Why Do We Love It So?'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/S0ixVbq7QeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/BCFsduWOul0/s72-c/paris.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-3629259951947453103</id><published>2009-12-23T15:03:00.019Z</published><updated>2009-12-23T15:42:11.255Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SzI107ddiaI/AAAAAAAAAJM/gO8Ay9nRumI/s1600-h/new+year.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SzI107ddiaI/AAAAAAAAAJM/gO8Ay9nRumI/s400/new+year.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418452485110860194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h1 style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);" class="title"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Intercultural&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);" class="title"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);" class="title"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; Musings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;wishes all Followers and Readers a VERY HAPPY CHRISTMAS &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;and a Prosperous NEW YEAR!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-3629259951947453103?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/3629259951947453103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/3629259951947453103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/12/intercultural-musings-wishes-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SzI107ddiaI/AAAAAAAAAJM/gO8Ay9nRumI/s72-c/new+year.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-8453439593804555439</id><published>2009-12-19T11:14:00.014Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T17:02:25.783Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='France'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Expatriate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intercultural Identity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='England'/><title type='text'>A Professional Foreigner Writes....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Syy4xLNnrcI/AAAAAAAAAI8/4Zc2ljiP91w/s1600-h/dalstontrai+n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Syy4xLNnrcI/AAAAAAAAAI8/4Zc2ljiP91w/s320/dalstontrai+n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416907606782881218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I'll start this guest post with a confession: My name is Rhino75 and I'm a professional foreigner. By that I mean that I'm one of those people who have lived outside their home country for so long that they no longer fit in properly anywhere. Ask me where I'm from and I won't miss a beat: "I'm British" I say in my best Home Counties accent. But when I'm actually back in the "old country" I fumble with small change, I'm confused by public transport and I don't recognize two-thirds of the people on the telly. Yet in France, my adopted country, I'm seen as the embodiment of all things British, a kind of unofficial spokesman. "What do people in *your* country think about this?" French friends ask me, while offering me another cup of French-style tea (weak, without milk). Or "We're planning a weekend in London, what do you recommend we see and do? And where should we stay?" Do I come clean and say "I've absolutely no idea"? Or "The last time I was in London, I spent almost the entire weekend in Dalston, with only a brief foray out to the White Swan in Stepney"? No, because they'd be disappointed. So I quite simply make it up. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining - being from a different country has provided me with a nice sideline in media punditry over here. But the truth of the matter is that, after 12 years, France is naturally more familiar to me than Britain is. When I bump into people in the street, my first instinct is to excuse myself in French. I know the names of most of the main politicians - in Britain, I recognize Brown and that's it - and all the tv stars. I can tell the difference between a 2 centime and a 5 centime coin with my eyes shut and can describe all the symptoms of my cat's asthma without getting a single noun gender wrong. I know the right wines to drink, the right gifts to take to dinner parties and can even decipher the alphabet soup of French bureaucracy. While the Britain I knew, the Britain I remember, no longer exists, not quite as it was anyway. The references are different, the goalposts have shifted, leaving me feeling hopelessly old fashioned. Someone asked me on a recent trip home how I feel when I return to Britain and I replied "Like David Niven" -  and yet the country of my birth is the very thing that defines me, at least initially, to many people I meet. "Give me a child until he is seven and I will give you the man," runs the old Jesuit motto. But does that count for national identity too, I wonder?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-8453439593804555439?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/8453439593804555439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/12/professional-foreigner-writes.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/8453439593804555439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/8453439593804555439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/12/professional-foreigner-writes.html' title='A Professional Foreigner Writes....'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Syy4xLNnrcI/AAAAAAAAAI8/4Zc2ljiP91w/s72-c/dalstontrai+n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-281176234292632145</id><published>2009-12-01T19:20:00.160Z</published><updated>2009-12-02T18:52:09.162Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scotland'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='taboo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='haggis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>To Haggis or Not to Haggis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SxVtMG7E0lI/AAAAAAAAAI0/wEXvSfjEDsI/s1600/sheep_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410350582139769426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SxVtMG7E0lI/AAAAAAAAAI0/wEXvSfjEDsI/s400/sheep_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I am what you could call an unfussy eater - I once even carried on eating those wormy Italian cherries, because I figured, oh well the little worms only ate cherry. The other day, though, I saw "Creamed Haggis" on a restaurant menu and thought -rather you than me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Haggis is more than a dish- it's a right of passage. "Oh, in Scotland... have you had haggis then?" people ask automatically.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;But before we go on, let's see what it actually involves, this is an original Scottish recipe:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ingredients&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;1 sheep's stomach, cleaned and scalded, soaked overnight, turned inside out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;heart and lungs of 1 lamb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;450g beef or lamb trimmings, fat and lean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;2 onions, chopped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;225g oatmeal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;1 tbsp salt &amp;amp; ground black pepper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;1tsp ground dried coriander&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;water, enough to cook the haggis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;stock from&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; lung and trimmings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Well, what do you think?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SxVs0m2hd6I/AAAAAAAAAIk/Kz_hFnLm22g/s1600/haggis.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410350178393749410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SxVs0m2hd6I/AAAAAAAAAIk/Kz_hFnLm22g/s320/haggis.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Recently, the Lonely Planet Guide called haggis an &lt;em&gt;extreme food&lt;/em&gt; together with other &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;revolting national dishes like worms and tarantula.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (quote)&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Since I 've lived here, my impression is that very few people actually enjoy haggis. It is much more about 'Are you man enough to try something that most people would find off-putting? Have you got what it takes to be one of us? Or are you the eternal tourist? A weakling, a softie who isn't up to the rough but ever so endearing ways of us&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;A simple dish has been turned into an ideological milestone - a taboo, that you need to break in order to be accepted. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I think food should be enjoyable. If you like haggis, fine -no problem. If you don't, also fine - but don't turn it into a character judgment!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Have &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; tried it? Would you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-281176234292632145?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/281176234292632145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/12/to-haggis-or-not-to-haggis.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/281176234292632145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/281176234292632145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/12/to-haggis-or-not-to-haggis.html' title='To Haggis or Not to Haggis'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SxVtMG7E0lI/AAAAAAAAAI0/wEXvSfjEDsI/s72-c/sheep_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-6977648133347617942</id><published>2009-11-18T17:00:00.061Z</published><updated>2009-11-21T10:45:25.236Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prejudice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cultural stereotypes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political correctness'/><title type='text'>Would YOU describe yourself as politically correct??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SwQtLHBg8XI/AAAAAAAAAHI/ggMWO14qeFQ/s1600/hairdresser.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405495121638650226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 395px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SwQtLHBg8XI/AAAAAAAAAHI/ggMWO14qeFQ/s400/hairdresser.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I wouldn't.. it sounds too much like McCarthy mixed with a social worker from Haringay telling one you just committed a hate crime because you didn't eat up your Aloo Ghobi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SwQs74u3lyI/AAAAAAAAAG4/w7PaBwa2qXk/s1600/black.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405494860104308514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 314px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SwQs74u3lyI/AAAAAAAAAG4/w7PaBwa2qXk/s320/black.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;And yet, and yet... I have never laughed about a joke involving black people, women, or any form of disability. I couldn't possibly have sat through that Borat film...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I get quite irate when people make dismissive comments about other nations - in fact I am absolutely allergic to any type of nationalism. "Proud to be so and so"? Why? It is accidental. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Your country may not even care about you very much ( Gary McKinnon!) whilst you're being proud....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So I'd better face up to it : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I hate stereotyping, prejudice and judgmental attitudes.. I am therefore officially PC!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;But hang on... do I have no prejudices then?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Do I not get a bit shifty when a group of young black men is walking towards me in town? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Do I not laugh hysterically when a gay friend does a malicious impression of a camp hairdresser?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;What exactly is my attitude towards, say, a British hen party? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Oh dear oh dear .. all getting a bit murky here!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;What's your take on Prejudice- Stereotype&lt;/span&gt;- &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Political Correctness?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SwQtDaY_5PI/AAAAAAAAAHA/--OA-dzTMck/s1600/henparty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405494989398467826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SwQtDaY_5PI/AAAAAAAAAHA/--OA-dzTMck/s320/henparty.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-6977648133347617942?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/6977648133347617942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/11/would-you-describe-yourself-as.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/6977648133347617942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/6977648133347617942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/11/would-you-describe-yourself-as.html' title='Would YOU describe yourself as politically correct??'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SwQtLHBg8XI/AAAAAAAAAHI/ggMWO14qeFQ/s72-c/hairdresser.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-5605146927405145807</id><published>2009-11-06T17:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-10T11:48:56.588Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Britain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='traffic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gay-bashing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='violence'/><title type='text'>Britain - All the Rage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvReBbIYWDI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/GhNScIasnX0/s1600-h/barbed+wire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401045231679854642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvReBbIYWDI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/GhNScIasnX0/s400/barbed+wire.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm slightly apprehensive about this blog post. Will it result in hate mail? Furious comments? Total silence? We will see.&lt;br /&gt;When I last lived in Britain, it seemed a gentle and tolerant country. People were textbook-polite, often friendly and helpful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my second sojourn, and I have only been here 4 months. So maybe my impressions are wrong, or one-sided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to emphasize that in none of my examples have I been directly involved. I have no axe to grind. I see myself as a bystander in this country, not a particpant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvRd2f0gQ0I/AAAAAAAAAGI/gZVhqMreqwQ/s1600-h/road+rage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401045043960103746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvRd2f0gQ0I/AAAAAAAAAGI/gZVhqMreqwQ/s320/road+rage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost every day, I see the most rage-filled exchanges between drivers who feel cut-up, slighted, or are simply furious about other cars. They hoot their horns, shake their fists, shout abuse out of the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear busdrivers getting angry with passengers for the smallest offense (like presenting their ticket upside-down.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I observe people in supermarkets deliberately blocking other shoppers' access to the shelf and then furiously hissing at them when they complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are losing their rags. Violence seems contantly under the surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear about people being deliberately humiliated by their bosses at work, building up hate fantasies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read about gay people getting beaten up in town centres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'd find that everywhere", I hear you say. Maybe. But Britain used to be different. Politer. Nicer. Gentler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some years ago, the then Prime Minister, John Major propagated "A nation at ease with itself". Is this still true?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvRdr6Rxi1I/AAAAAAAAAGA/S4P7RhYkuD0/s1600-h/broken+clock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401044862083631954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvRdr6Rxi1I/AAAAAAAAAGA/S4P7RhYkuD0/s320/broken+clock.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-5605146927405145807?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/5605146927405145807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/11/britain-all-rage.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/5605146927405145807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/5605146927405145807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/11/britain-all-rage.html' title='Britain - All the Rage'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvReBbIYWDI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/GhNScIasnX0/s72-c/barbed+wire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-2440372319004852110</id><published>2009-11-03T17:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-04T11:00:58.631Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cultural stereotypes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='interculturalism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Frogs - and Other Food Related Stereotypes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvBt4oVSBCI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Qc6meslBa4M/s1600-h/frog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399936772884005922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvBt4oVSBCI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Qc6meslBa4M/s320/frog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Food plays a decisive role when you first visit a country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when we moved to Holland, my parents were utterly bafflled when they were taken to an Indonesian restaurant there. Rijsttafel- one of the most delicious things ever to cross a border, freaked them. "How can they eat that?" my mother said. I don't think we ever went out a restaurant in Holland after that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ethnic sterotypes and prejudices are based on what a nation (conceivably) eats:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- France: Garlic and froglegs ("Frogs")&lt;br /&gt;- Germany : Sausage and sauerkraut ("Krauts")&lt;br /&gt;- Germans call Italians "Spaghetti Gobblers", and the French call the English"Les Rosbif"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399936581984834466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvBtthLX06I/AAAAAAAAAFI/I9Ll_LJnWHs/s320/kraut.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Local food makes you query your relationship to the other country: "How can they eat THAT? There must be something wrong with them..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So food defines nations – at least in the eye of the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; beholder. And it isn't neutral, there's always an element of "Says it all really" in the observation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399936427816355698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvBtki2vh3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/NLE9xS9Op7E/s320/spaghetti.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Have you had food experiences that made you re-define your attitude to a new country? That shocked or delighted you? - I'd love to hear them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-2440372319004852110?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/2440372319004852110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/11/frogs-and-other-food-related.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2440372319004852110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2440372319004852110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/11/frogs-and-other-food-related.html' title='Frogs - and Other Food Related Stereotypes'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SvBt4oVSBCI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Qc6meslBa4M/s72-c/frog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-8917762786917149525</id><published>2009-10-30T17:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-01T11:56:27.401Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='British food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bacon'/><title type='text'>The Big Bacon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suso-njViMI/AAAAAAAAAE4/_698QuUJleY/s1600-h/bacon_main.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398453634567866562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suso-njViMI/AAAAAAAAAE4/_698QuUJleY/s400/bacon_main.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SusopeVywHI/AAAAAAAAAEw/jjkoqZS9RQs/s1600-h/back+bacon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398453271317889138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SusopeVywHI/AAAAAAAAAEw/jjkoqZS9RQs/s320/back+bacon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I did a little crowd-sourcing last week, and asked people (all of them British) what their favourite food was. Result: 80% said bacon, 15% chocolate, and 5% chips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bacon is crucial to British meals - there's bacon and eggs (and other things!) for breakfast, bacon sarnie for lunch, and there are fry-ups for later in the day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;479,000 tonnes are consumed per year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whilst bacon is eaten all over Europe, of course, I doubt whether you'd find a single French or Italian person, say, who'd list it as their fave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SusoebL1dDI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qzHp2kZEFCU/s1600-h/bacon2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398453081492255794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SusoebL1dDI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qzHp2kZEFCU/s320/bacon2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Admit it, it's remarkable. Bacon flavoured crisps, popcorn... then there is the very popular 5000kcal "Bacon Explosion" (American in origin, but with a huge British following on Youtube -check it out!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- and bacon has even entered the language -"bringing home the bacon", "saved may bacon" etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SusoVHBUtgI/AAAAAAAAAEg/ibVCpsnp-M0/s1600-h/bacon+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398452921460635138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SusoVHBUtgI/AAAAAAAAAEg/ibVCpsnp-M0/s320/bacon+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another curious thing: Bacon lovers the world over eat mostly rashers, whereas Britons prefer thickly-cut back bacon, which looks a bit like a horizontally-sliced pig.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So why ARE the British so keen on their bacon? What inner craving is satisfied by eating bacon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SusoIzL6OWI/AAAAAAAAAEY/QB3aoac2_Oc/s1600-h/IMG_0903.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398452709977897314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SusoIzL6OWI/AAAAAAAAAEY/QB3aoac2_Oc/s320/IMG_0903.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry, couldn't resist!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-8917762786917149525?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/8917762786917149525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/10/big-bacon.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/8917762786917149525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/8917762786917149525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/10/big-bacon.html' title='The Big Bacon'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suso-njViMI/AAAAAAAAAE4/_698QuUJleY/s72-c/bacon_main.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-4098964058048470953</id><published>2009-10-28T16:47:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-10-29T11:39:15.446Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Belgium'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Belgian food'/><title type='text'>(P)Lucky Little Belgium!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Sul2aSmfegI/AAAAAAAAADI/tWCH_uQdPrE/s1600-h/grand+place.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397975822422211074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Sul2aSmfegI/AAAAAAAAADI/tWCH_uQdPrE/s400/grand+place.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your favourite country in Europe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me guess- France! No? Okay, Italy then. Fair enough. Both great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My favourite country is actually Belgium. I can hear you giggle....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why Belgium? Well I don't think I could ever truly truly love a country which doesn't put food right in the centre of its identity. (This isn't a food blog, but one way or another I will always come back to this topic.) And Belgian food really has it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fom Salade Liegeoise, Pottekeis and Speculoos to Kwak beer which comes in its characteristic absurdly shaped glass, to Moules Frites, to cuberdons (fl. neuzekes) "un bonbon, un peu coquant, un peu fondant" (see image below and &lt;a href="http://www.cuberdons.com/"&gt;http://www.cuberdons.com/&lt;/a&gt;) And there is waterzooi- which is actually a mixture of chicken and vegetables, although it sounds like a fish), and not to forget Belgian chocolates of course. (Belgians consume 8.3kg of the stuff per annum per person).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belgium is multi-lingual (French, Flemish and a little German), truly multi-cultural (8% of the population are foreign-born), and seems totally chaotic when it comes to choosing a government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suh2Np0MDAI/AAAAAAAAAB8/bPyfPJ3HYBo/s1600-h/belgian+food.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397694130338663426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 127px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suh2Np0MDAI/AAAAAAAAAB8/bPyfPJ3HYBo/s200/belgian+food.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Which brings one to the downside -Belgium has relatively high unemployment, and there is a nasty divide between Flanders and Wallonia - the latter commanding about 20% more productivity than the latter. And that in turn, causes tensions between the two groups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suh2A4oT8kI/AAAAAAAAAB0/lUHpGCr2Ziw/s1600-h/cuberdons.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397693910977081922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suh2A4oT8kI/AAAAAAAAAB0/lUHpGCr2Ziw/s200/cuberdons.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; But why should that necessarily be such a terrible thing? I think all European countries (no: countries the world over) live with strife, a certain amount of mutual prejudice, and competition. It's part of being a nation. They'll work it out. Eventually, they might even find a mutually suitable government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suh15rX_WDI/AAAAAAAAABs/zemkCFChzM8/s1600-h/liege.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397693787159877682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suh15rX_WDI/AAAAAAAAABs/zemkCFChzM8/s200/liege.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belgium sometimes feels very French, strolling down the old town of Liège for example. But turn a corner, and you would swear you're in Holland. Other towns have a distinctly romantic German Eifel atmosphere, with timbered houses and medieval little bridges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suh1xlq9HAI/AAAAAAAAABk/DGGIZcCODBg/s1600-h/moules.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397693648189856770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Suh1xlq9HAI/AAAAAAAAABk/DGGIZcCODBg/s200/moules.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Les MoulesFrites! Mosselen met friet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's just hop on the Eurostar and visit Bruges, Ghent, Liège, Antwerp, Namur or Dinant - they all sound so evocative!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Don't worry- this won't be a geography blog. Interculturalism is a VERY big tent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-4098964058048470953?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/4098964058048470953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/10/plucky-little-belgium.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4098964058048470953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/4098964058048470953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/10/plucky-little-belgium.html' title='(P)Lucky Little Belgium!'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/Sul2aSmfegI/AAAAAAAAADI/tWCH_uQdPrE/s72-c/grand+place.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712793603818833281.post-2333772620224757365</id><published>2009-10-27T14:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-10-27T16:36:07.356Z</updated><title type='text'>Many Countries.. all European</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuchNZkKPLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/lvTq8Sal_KU/s1600-h/bild.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397319192511397042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuchNZkKPLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/lvTq8Sal_KU/s320/bild.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I have never been able to answer the question "Where are you from?" It seems a bit rude (and a bit stupid!) to say "dunno", so at least when talking to Americans, it seems quite acceptable to say "I'm from Europe". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;That much I know. I may have gone to school in Holland, gone to university in Germany, but hang on, also in England... I may have Hungarian ancestors, be married to an Englishman.... but it all sounds too complicated, and let's face it - not that interesting. So saying "I am European" says it all, and as far as I'm concerned, says it best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6712793603818833281-2333772620224757365?l=interculturalmusings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/2333772620224757365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/10/many-countries-all-european.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2333772620224757365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6712793603818833281/posts/default/2333772620224757365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://interculturalmusings.blogspot.com/2009/10/many-countries-all-european.html' title='Many Countries.. all European'/><author><name>Margit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17830126186468062827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuibcnkBrzI/AAAAAAAAACg/X5nwwO3K1sg/S220/img+right.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_71j1kTx-ixw/SuchNZkKPLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/lvTq8Sal_KU/s72-c/bild.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry></feed>
