GET OFF THE BUS

We all have those days, particularly when you cross over that age-related line of judgmentalism that seems to hover at just about 40 years, when we suddenly look at the younger generation of teens, realize we no longer share much of anything in common with them,  and begin tsk, tsk, tsking to ourselves as we watch them deal with the world -- 'our' world --  they are only now uncovering. 

It’s easy to do, and in the second decade of the twenty-first century the world is in such a dire situation we can often find new and better ways of clicking our tongue in disdain over their supposed greed, isolation, sense of entitlement, etc. Fill in the blank with your frustration of choice. (And ignore the brutal reality that our thoughts echo almost exactly what our own parents and others said about US at that age...)

Coffee with the locals

Liquid refreshment?

So it came as -- to use a cliche -- a huge breath of fresh air, while speaking to a friend’'s daughter the other night, to learn how much young people still "get it". We had, for the first time in nearly a year I think, gone to their house for a long overdue visit, and our get-togethers with these particular friends always center around some sort of meal, whether we’'re barbequing, eating Chinese (or Subway or sandwiches), or dining out at a local restaurant. Just part of a pattern of behavior our little foursome plus kids) has adopted in the nearly 25 years of friendship (we’'re celebrating our “Friendiversary” in the next couple of weeks) -- and it nicely reflects the way my wife and I like to absorb local culture when we'’re on the road. Sharing a meal is often the best way to learn about other people, whether you're traveling to foreign countries or just spending a pleasant evening with friends.

In the case of our friends, their daughter has recently been able to take a trip to Italy as p[art of a school-organized tour group, the cost of which was a sacrifice her family was willing to make to help widen her boundaries and give her a better sense of the world which surrounds her. (And a sacrifice it was: the family usually takes an annual vacation together for some group time – an increasingly valuable commodity now that the kids are nearing their 20^th and 18^th birthdays, respectively. Their week with the kids has become an important event for the parents, which only serves to highlight their sacrifice of their group trip to pay for the daughter’s voyage.) (To her credit, the girl earned it through hard work and growth in the last couple of years, so it was in no way a ”bluebird” indulgent act on the part of her folks.)

Get lost in the crowd

In many ways the daughter is a typical teen. Self-absorbed to a degree – though she also works with special needs kids at her school, which speaks volumes regarding her personality – and constantly pressing here and there to see how many more freedoms she can assume in life. She'’s articulate, outgoing, and apparently doesn'’t mind spending an evening with the old folks.

The farmer's market

All this is background to the moment in our conversation when she noted one of her biggest frustrations on the trip: the lack of personal time she was able to spend just roaming around while on an escorted tour. Yes, she recognizes that she was able to see and do so many more things than she might have had the tour not been a death march, but she was disappointed that, as she notes, there was no real chance to take in the local Italian culture. In other words, no alone time to spend just sitting and absorbing.


When I asked her what she would have liked to have gotten a chance to do, she said she wanted to go out for an evening, find a local cafe and sit with a cheap meal, glass of wine (looking sheepishly at her parents as she said it) and watch the world go by.  That's it, she said, just stop running and take it all in -- get a feel for the places she visited.

A Day at the Museum

This revelation that she considered a visit to another culture was not the same as absorbing that culture, came a surprise for me -- so I burrowed in to ask what she meant. After all, she was able to see several sites in Rome we had missed, as well as getting to the cities of Siena and Florence. Wasn’t it enough to tag those historic sites and move on? (I will admit that for years my wife and I would rush around town’s and villages doing precisely this, but in our case it was to free up time to stop and drink in each destination at a later hour. In visiting our nation’s capital, for example, it might be “Yeah, cool, the Washington Monument…next?” followed by a quick tram ride to the Vietnam Memorial…“Next!”…but at the same time the gained hours were being set aside for a leisurely meal at a local place in, for example, Georgetown. To our way of thinking, buildings represent the images of a place, but not the flesh and blood of it.)

In our friend’s daughter’s mind – and this is what is the surprise for me – the highlight of the trip would have been to go to a local café, on her own, and sit down for a true Italian dinner (of course the fantasy involves a glass of wine) and just sit, eat and absorb the scene. A surprisingly mature Anthony Bourdainesque approach for any traveler, let alone a teenager.

Wandering the alleys

Cultures are often best experienced through their food, through the way it is prepared and served, and most importantly how it is experienced.

This, of course, is precisely one of our own favorite adventures when on the road, and I told her so. Arturo’s in New York. Chez Paul in Paris. The Killarney House outside Annapolis. Cattlemen’s Steakhouse in Fort Worth. Next Noodle Bar on Robson in Vancouver. Getting the chance to sit in a “local’s hangout” and just spend some time, as they do, watching the world go by and enjoying the fruits of their own local cuisine is one of the grand time-tested ways to truly discover the soul of other places, and it was quite a pleasant surprise to hear such a sentiment coming from someone of a generation I’d – old fartishness and all – written off as completely inadequate to running the world in the future. Their values are not my values, and I spent my formative years in the self-indulgent ‘70s. Go figure.

Exploring new places

(Yeah, yeah, I know I mentioned Italian in New York, Irish in Annapolis, Chinese in Vancouver. At least I got steaks in Texas and French in France right, but each and every one of the places mentioned is very much a local spot – read, “non-tourist” with the exception of Cattlemen’s, which is haunted by both locals and “fur’ners” alike – reflecting a local flavor in a major way. Get over it.)

But sharing a meal, eating the local cuisine, finding something in common and not trying to superimpose your own expectations on others is the surest way to walk away with a sense of relief, of fun and understanding, and more importantly, to discover that you, too, have gained something valuable in the process.

Kind of like talking to a teenage traveler as you share a meal at a friend’s house: Sometimes, if you take the time, you'’ll learn something surprising.