Cultural Differences !!! - by TPO

Cultural Differences ! *

-- Americans share the things they didn’t realize were typically American until they traveled. --

Observation # 4:
Ask a cop how he’s doing here in the States, and you’ll get tased!

It is very different in Paris.  I Walked up to a security guard at the library adjacent to Centre Pompidou, which is where we were headed and asked in English if he could tell us where the entrance to the museum was.

He stared at me blankly. I started stammering, trying to repeat myself in French, when he said very sarcastically, “ ‘ALLO? ‘OW are you DO-EENG?!” ....  You see, I had not first offered a greeting before asking my question!

In large American cities, public servants and other people providing services to tourists are often not looking for such niceties. They want you to make it as quick as possible and keep moving.
________________________________
* Source: RoughMaps

Childhood - by Hénock Gugsa

Childhood

~ by Hénock Gugsa~

The best gift I received in life aside from good health was my "Childhood".  Looking back at it now, it was golden, and idyllic.  If there were critical moments, they must have been insignificant because I don't recall them now, not even in bits.

My childhood years were a period when everything appeared enormous … my dad seemed like a giant although he was only 5’ 9” tall … houses and fences loomed large … and a block of street was like an infinity to my eyes.  I do not believe that, in the very early part of my childhood, I had any concrete concept or even awareness of time; but later on, I remember feeling it was the slowest thing on earth; it felt as if everything was standing still, that all moments were one and the same.  An hour was like an eternity.  Of-course my attention span was probably only just at the bare minimum level to qualify me as a human-being.  That was understandable as this was a time when I was absorbing everything about my surroundings, i.e. the sights and the sounds.

The most joyous and fun times were when I was between eight and twelve years old.   This was a time of innocence, of curiosity, and of endless discoveries.  But I had not yet reached complete self-awareness, or acquired a sense of responsibility when you know to be always on your guard and not require adult supervision.  I had friends and playmates both at school and in my neighborhood.  There was peace and stability in Ethiopia, and I felt safe and un-harassed.  My family was not enjoying a life of luxury, but we were not in dire poverty either.  We belonged in the lower middle class, and the future held some good promises.  It was all good !