Yes, you read correctly. I didn't know about this either until after moving. Apparently, Americans' expressions of politeness are downright sickening to our overseas English-speaking friends.
Scenario in America:
You enter a store. You are greeted shortly by a staff member who asks if you need help finding anything. You say 'no, just browsing.' The person leaves you to your devices and you find what you're looking for. You go to pay and the person at the register asks if you found everything okay. You say 'yes.' You pay, thank the person, the person thanks you and wishes you a nice day. You leave.
Scenario in Ireland:
You enter a store. Security guard either sitting next to the door or within two feet of it. You browse for what you're looking for. You can't find it, but figure it must be there somewhere, so you look for a helpful staff member. You see three girls with store nametags on ranting in a corner by the cash register, pretending not to see you. You interrupt them, they point in the direction of where you're supposed to find the item and go back to their chat. You decide to buy something and go up to the register. You pay for the item, at which point it is customary for you to say 'thank you' while handing over your hard-earned cash. The cashier hands you any change, says 'thanks' and that's it.
Analysis
So, apparently people not used to the American ethic of customer service find it overbearing to have someone greet you and offer their help. Americans are also teased endlessly for the expression 'have a nice day,' with accusations of gross insincerity. I can see this to a point. I mean, we've all been in stores ready to shoot the sunny-faced people who nearly stalk you while you browse. This always seems to be the case, too, when you're only killing time somewhere. But what happens when you DO need someone? Assistance is rarely found during a shopping trip over here. The ironic thing is that wages for working in a shop are higher here than in America. In fact, minimum wage here is right around 8 euro/hour. Perhaps retail workers here don't have those pesky sales goals, coupled with silly incentive games for motivating employees like they do in America.
Now to the 'have a nice day' issue. Anyone in Britain or Ireland wishing to poke fun at Americans will quickly make reference to this phrase as if it were a national flaw in character. I've caught myself at times telling clerks in shops to have a nice day as I'm leaving after buying something. You can only imagine the strange looks I get. Yes, truly, this is an Americanism. But I honestly had no idea. I mean, how criminal can it be to wish someone a nice day? Apparently as American stereotypes go, this is right up there, fitting the loud and cheesy personality profile that Americans are so famous for. But I challenge that this perceived insincerity is unique to Americans. To me, a parallel is the phrase 'thanks a million.' This phrase is uttered in any and all situations over here - from anything as mundane as buying chewing gum to more deserving scenarios like borrowing large sums of money. I don't really thank these people 'a million' any more than they think I hope they have a nice day.
Did you ever think that politeness was an American downfall? Too bad this sugary sweet side of American culture doesn't trickle into more dramatic examples of foreign policy, but I digress....
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Irish Target?
I've had more than one conversation with people who have experienced life on both sides of the Atlantic and one of the prevailing topics is the options people have in America. I'm not talking about life choices here, I'm talking about what you can buy and where you can go.
In the land of Super Target (a personal fave of mine), WalMart, Meijer, etc., seeking out just what you're looking for at a decent price isn't a difficult task in the States. Over here, the options are just fewer, though not necessarily worse. In America, we have grocery stores that rival the size of entire small towns. In Ireland, we have the corner shop. In America, we have an entire aisle in said grocery store dedicated to bread and bread alone. In Ireland we have a shelf or two and it consists of about 3 different kinds.
More recently, this American style of more, more, more! has made it's way over here. The closest comparison to Super Target here is the Irish Dunnes Stores. Dunnes has a grocery store, clothing department and small housewares section. More and more Dunnes are popping up in bigger and more dramatic fashion around the country. And more and more of them are 24 hour establishments - bucking the whole 9am-6pm business hours tradition. I was actually excited to walk into Limerick's newest Dunnes - boasted as the biggest Dunnes outside of Dublin! I was hoping to find a little more to choose from as I still crave certain creature comforts from the homeland. At first glance, the new Dunnes is certainly the size and shape of a Super Target. It could swallow a small Irish village whole. When I approached the aisles, ready to feast my eyes on the myriad of options, I found loads and loads of the same 3 kinds of bread. No, there aren't more options, just more of it!
From reading this, you may think I'm complaining about the reduction in options I encountered with my move, and truly I'm not. There's something comforting about having one or two types of bread that you know you like and you know will always be there. Now if they could just expand the pasta sauce options....
In the land of Super Target (a personal fave of mine), WalMart, Meijer, etc., seeking out just what you're looking for at a decent price isn't a difficult task in the States. Over here, the options are just fewer, though not necessarily worse. In America, we have grocery stores that rival the size of entire small towns. In Ireland, we have the corner shop. In America, we have an entire aisle in said grocery store dedicated to bread and bread alone. In Ireland we have a shelf or two and it consists of about 3 different kinds.
More recently, this American style of more, more, more! has made it's way over here. The closest comparison to Super Target here is the Irish Dunnes Stores. Dunnes has a grocery store, clothing department and small housewares section. More and more Dunnes are popping up in bigger and more dramatic fashion around the country. And more and more of them are 24 hour establishments - bucking the whole 9am-6pm business hours tradition. I was actually excited to walk into Limerick's newest Dunnes - boasted as the biggest Dunnes outside of Dublin! I was hoping to find a little more to choose from as I still crave certain creature comforts from the homeland. At first glance, the new Dunnes is certainly the size and shape of a Super Target. It could swallow a small Irish village whole. When I approached the aisles, ready to feast my eyes on the myriad of options, I found loads and loads of the same 3 kinds of bread. No, there aren't more options, just more of it!
From reading this, you may think I'm complaining about the reduction in options I encountered with my move, and truly I'm not. There's something comforting about having one or two types of bread that you know you like and you know will always be there. Now if they could just expand the pasta sauce options....
Some pictures from the wedding....a little late, I know!
The big entrance!
Outside the reception hall, which is next to King John's Castle, Limerick.My parents, the happy couple, Tristan's parents.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Ah, the weather
When you live in a place like Ireland, you don't expect much from the weather. You never hear anyone raving about Irish weather in all of the attraction to visit the country. However, you will never hear anyone more apologetic about the weather than the Irish. I've found this since the first time I visited the country to today.
The first time I came to Ireland was at the end of January. I was sure to allow about 5 hours in between my flight to Chicago from Indy and departure from Chicago to Ireland because of the inevitable Midwestern winter flight delays. They were de-icing the planes and snow was piling up on my car when I left. When I got over here, it was hardly tropical, mind you, but there was no ice or snow on the ground. Still, everywhere I went people were apologizing for the cold and the wind. Little did they know I had 4 inches of snow on my car to scrape off when I got home!
Even to this day, we're experiencing a bit of a cold snap over here. So, it's a bit chilly for late March. But what do you expect from an island in the north Atlantic? People are just sure that where I came from, the weather must be much warmer (despite all assurances since November that that's not the case). After a quick look at the Star online the other day, I was able to report, no once again, as they have 3.5 inches of snow back in my hometown. Granted, I know everyone back in Indy is grumbling and moaning about the late snow fall because if you're anything like me, I think snow should be illegal after March 15th. But, the windy chill in the air over here feels much easier without the added pain of scraping my car in the morning.
No, the Irish need not be so apologetic about the weather. The daffodils are blooming like crazy all over the place and before long, it'll be what they call summer - which resembles much more of an extended spring time to those of us used to weather in the 90s with swamp-like humidity during the summer months.
So, I might have my jacket out a little longer that I was used to, but I've happily left my car scraper behind!
The first time I came to Ireland was at the end of January. I was sure to allow about 5 hours in between my flight to Chicago from Indy and departure from Chicago to Ireland because of the inevitable Midwestern winter flight delays. They were de-icing the planes and snow was piling up on my car when I left. When I got over here, it was hardly tropical, mind you, but there was no ice or snow on the ground. Still, everywhere I went people were apologizing for the cold and the wind. Little did they know I had 4 inches of snow on my car to scrape off when I got home!
Even to this day, we're experiencing a bit of a cold snap over here. So, it's a bit chilly for late March. But what do you expect from an island in the north Atlantic? People are just sure that where I came from, the weather must be much warmer (despite all assurances since November that that's not the case). After a quick look at the Star online the other day, I was able to report, no once again, as they have 3.5 inches of snow back in my hometown. Granted, I know everyone back in Indy is grumbling and moaning about the late snow fall because if you're anything like me, I think snow should be illegal after March 15th. But, the windy chill in the air over here feels much easier without the added pain of scraping my car in the morning.
No, the Irish need not be so apologetic about the weather. The daffodils are blooming like crazy all over the place and before long, it'll be what they call summer - which resembles much more of an extended spring time to those of us used to weather in the 90s with swamp-like humidity during the summer months.
So, I might have my jacket out a little longer that I was used to, but I've happily left my car scraper behind!
Saturday, March 18, 2006
St. Patrick's Day in Ireland
I know what you're thinking - St. Patrick's Day in the land of the green must be the real thing! You'd be surprised, though. St. Patrick's Day is a holiday. Everyone has the day off. There are parades in the bigger towns and of course most people are at the pub. But without the novelty of it being a day for the Irish - because when you're in Ireland, every day is the day of the Irish! - it's a bit lackluster. The biggest excitement is focused on the horse races in Cheltenham which means that tons of people pack themselves into the bookies' to place bets and crowd around the TVs in the pubs to watch their horses either win or lose it all for them. By 6:00, we were pretty tired of watching horses, and we didn't go out until 4:30.
In Indianapolis, there is a community of people who look forward to St. Patrick's Day every year. And even though it's annual, it's a novelty. We go to the parade, take the second half of the day off work (which is a novelty in and of itself) and head to the regular St. Patrick's Day haunts. We don't even have to make plans with friends of where to meet up and when because it's a foregone conclusion that we'll eventually see each other at one of the three or four places where we'd be likely to visit. We don our green, or in my case in the years since I met Tristan, my County Clare hurling jersey for true Irish authenticity. The excitement of seeing another friend of mine who nearly owns a jersey for each county and which one he will wear that particular year, and even having someone stop me because they recognize the Clare colors and strike up conversation are much more satisfying than watching a horse race.
Ironically, I think in future years, we may be looking to travel back to visit Indy for the Irish national holiday. It just means more.
In Indianapolis, there is a community of people who look forward to St. Patrick's Day every year. And even though it's annual, it's a novelty. We go to the parade, take the second half of the day off work (which is a novelty in and of itself) and head to the regular St. Patrick's Day haunts. We don't even have to make plans with friends of where to meet up and when because it's a foregone conclusion that we'll eventually see each other at one of the three or four places where we'd be likely to visit. We don our green, or in my case in the years since I met Tristan, my County Clare hurling jersey for true Irish authenticity. The excitement of seeing another friend of mine who nearly owns a jersey for each county and which one he will wear that particular year, and even having someone stop me because they recognize the Clare colors and strike up conversation are much more satisfying than watching a horse race.
Ironically, I think in future years, we may be looking to travel back to visit Indy for the Irish national holiday. It just means more.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Me in Ireland
Hello blog friends!
As most anyone who is reading this probably knows, I relocated to Co. Clare Ireland from my native Indianapolis where I live with my Irish husband, Tristan. I've been in Ireland since 30 June, 2005, so I'm still relatively new, although I'm settling in quite well here.
I often have observations about the differences between my new home and old home, which I'll air here on my blog. I'm not promising you'll find it terribly interesting all the time. Often I find the most profound differences are in the smaller details.
I'll talk accents and language for today. As everyone knows, the Irish have a way with words and an unforgettable accent. It can be very contagious, especially when you live with an Irishman. There are some words and phrases that I thought would never become part of my personal vernacular even though they are uttered every day by people here. One is 'grand.' Everything in Ireland is grand. If it's good, or even just okay, it's likely to be 'grand.' Another is 'lads.' One can refer to more than one person, regardless of gender as 'lads.'
Yesterday, I did the unthinkable. I uttered both of these words. I think it went something like this:
Coworker: "Would you like a cup of tea?"
Me: "No, I'm grand. Are the lads ready for our meeting yet?"
Swear to God. While I'm here, every bit of any Midwestern American draw drains out of my speech and is replaced with this rather lilting, light language. Get me on the phone with someone back in the states, and I'm a Hoosier again! Back to drawn out "r's" and swallowed "l's" and saying things like "you guys" rather than "lads."
It's still shocking to me. I didn't understand half of what my father in law said through his accent until pretty recently. And even some of the songs are making more sense. (As a kid, I used to think 'Whiskey in the Jar' was a more literal reference to someone keeping whiskey in the type of jar you might use to preserve fruit in, as opposed to a slang term for a drinking glass!)
I know everyone thinks that moving to another English speaking country is easier because you don't have the language barrier. I, too, am guilty of this assumption. While the learning curve might not be that of learning a whole new language, learning to re-interpret the one you know is a different story.
More later...
As most anyone who is reading this probably knows, I relocated to Co. Clare Ireland from my native Indianapolis where I live with my Irish husband, Tristan. I've been in Ireland since 30 June, 2005, so I'm still relatively new, although I'm settling in quite well here.
I often have observations about the differences between my new home and old home, which I'll air here on my blog. I'm not promising you'll find it terribly interesting all the time. Often I find the most profound differences are in the smaller details.
I'll talk accents and language for today. As everyone knows, the Irish have a way with words and an unforgettable accent. It can be very contagious, especially when you live with an Irishman. There are some words and phrases that I thought would never become part of my personal vernacular even though they are uttered every day by people here. One is 'grand.' Everything in Ireland is grand. If it's good, or even just okay, it's likely to be 'grand.' Another is 'lads.' One can refer to more than one person, regardless of gender as 'lads.'
Yesterday, I did the unthinkable. I uttered both of these words. I think it went something like this:
Coworker: "Would you like a cup of tea?"
Me: "No, I'm grand. Are the lads ready for our meeting yet?"
Swear to God. While I'm here, every bit of any Midwestern American draw drains out of my speech and is replaced with this rather lilting, light language. Get me on the phone with someone back in the states, and I'm a Hoosier again! Back to drawn out "r's" and swallowed "l's" and saying things like "you guys" rather than "lads."
It's still shocking to me. I didn't understand half of what my father in law said through his accent until pretty recently. And even some of the songs are making more sense. (As a kid, I used to think 'Whiskey in the Jar' was a more literal reference to someone keeping whiskey in the type of jar you might use to preserve fruit in, as opposed to a slang term for a drinking glass!)
I know everyone thinks that moving to another English speaking country is easier because you don't have the language barrier. I, too, am guilty of this assumption. While the learning curve might not be that of learning a whole new language, learning to re-interpret the one you know is a different story.
More later...
My first post
Hello! This is my first post on a blog. I always thought this was perhaps a tad bit cliche, but heck, I have family across the ocean who might want to hear from me and see pictures all in one go!
More to come. (I'll spare all the boring background details on my life!)
More to come. (I'll spare all the boring background details on my life!)
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