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Travel Cultures Language

Travel Tips: Check in More, Carry on Less

by Joyce McGreevy on March 13, 2017

The old Skansen fire station at Bergen, Norway, inspires travel tips as a writer checks in about lessons learned from traveling full time. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Instead of packing in more and more, reflect on traveling light. (Bergen, Norway)
© Joyce McGreevy

Lessons Learned from Traveling Full Time

Travel is packed with learning experiences, like when to check in and what to carry on. Here are a few travel tips and lessons learned from traveling full time.

Don’t get jet-lagged before the flight. 

An in-flight view of Arizona inspires a writer’s travel tips about what not to carry on, like stress and too much luggage, lessons learned from traveling full time. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Don’t fry before you fly. (Somewhere over Arizona)
© Joyce McGreevy

Does your travel checklist rival the Labors of Hercules? Racing from mall to mall, turning down invitations from loved ones, packing at 2 am for a 6 am flight—that’s no way to transition into travel.

Other countries have stores, too. Currently, I’m on a tiny Greek island located a day’s journey from anywhere. With a population of around 1,000, there are just a few shops in the island’s only town—and each is remarkably well stocked.

Leave it, don’t lug it.

A cat curled up in an open suitcase inspires travel tips about what not to check in or carry on when traveling full time. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

You can only carry so much.  (Evanston, Illinois)
© Joyce McGreevy

If you wouldn’t wear number of outfits in a month at home, don’t pack x-times-y-squared that number for a week abroad.

On one 3-month trip, I hiked in the mountains, swam in the sea, attended a wedding and went to a movie premiere. Everything I wore fit in one small suitcase—and there were still items I never needed.

Know your own essentials.

I always pack a favorite apron. The kitchen may be rented, the country as yet unknown, but the moment I put on my apron, I feel at home.

For me, travel includes cooking, chatting with greengrocers, and a local cooking lesson or culinary walk. It deepens my sense of home, wherever home happens to be.

A man selling figs in Kadikoy, Turkey inspires culinary travel tips and other lessons learned from traveling full time. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Eat the food, drink the water, talk with strangers. (Kadiköy, Turkey)
© Joyce McGreevy

Never let complainers rain on your plane to Spain.

No matter when you travel, someone will say you shouldn’t. It’ll be too crowded, deserted, hot, cold, expensive, touristy, and so on.

About Barcelona I was told, “You’re going in winter? That’s totally the wrong time.”

“What time of year do you recommend?”

“Don’t know, never been there. But winter, yuck. I hear it rains all the time.”

Do pack your sense of humor.

It didn’t rain that winter, but that’s beside the point. One summer I had an unexpected layover in Reykjavik. With 10 hours before check in, I’d pre-arranged a private tour. Excitedly, I exited the airport.

A rain-obscured view of Iceland inspires travel tips about keeping one’s perspective and other lessons learned from traveling full time. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Behold! The beauty of Iceland!
© Joyce McGreevy

The wind shoved me back into the terminal like a wall of NFL linemen. I had two choices:

  • carry on, as in rant and rave at the weather gods.
  • carry on, as in do the limbo under the gale and go meet my driver.

I shocked Stefan by showing up and then spent the day absorbing insights while everything around us absorbed the rain.

Photo ops be damned. It was a marvelous day—and Iceland will still be there when I return.

Likewise, don’t be too quick to bypass places that others dismiss. It’s often just a matter of broadening your radius. Walk around, meet people who live there, and see for yourself.

 

A tower at Malmöhus Castle, Malmö, Sweden inspires travel tips about visiting underrated cities when traveling full time. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

When people say things like, “Oh, Malmö, Sweden isn’t really Sweden,” go anyway.
© Joyce McGreevy

Don’t turn precaution into paranoia.

Yes, there are places where pickpockets and others of ill intent operate—it’s called Earth. Travelers anywhere should take sensible precautions. Just don’t believe everything you read online, including about your own community, or you’ll never leave the house.

Separate facts from urban legends of the “OMG my friend’s cousin’s dentist knows this tourist who got into a taxi and had a kidney stolen” variety.

Be for real.

Don’t be the person who keeps asking, “How much is this in real money?” or “What time is it really?” The money’s real and the time zone that matters most is the one you’re in.

Hikers above Royal National Park in New South Wales, Australia, inspire a writer’s travel tips about enjoying simple pleasures while traveling full time. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Hiking in Australia: Our packs were light, but our hearts were full.
© Joyce McGreevy

Try local foods and brands. At a sacred pageant in Italy, one dialogue shattered the hush:

Traveler 1: “Didn’t the drugstore have deodorant?”

Traveler 2: “Yeah, but not American deodorant.”

School yourself.

Consider a travel tip every schoolteacher knows: Build background.  You’ll create rich context for your experiences.

Here in Greece, I’ve been taking classes in Greek history, language, and mythology. It’s about experiencing shivers of recognition, epiphanies about the culture, and the sheer joy of deepening my sense of place.

Saving up long-term for travel? Building background is a great way to stay motivated. Listen to Italian as you fold laundry. Find cross-cultural connections in your local museums. Follow a podcast like “Londonist.” Read Turkish novels, listen to Bulgarian music.

Glasgow's Kelvingrove Art Gallery inspires travel tips and other lessons learned while traveling full time. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Heads up! Glasgow’s Kelvingrove Art Gallery shows why museums are must-see’ums.
© Joyce McGreevy

Do take a second look.

Sinclair Lewis said that those who see one cathedral ten times have seen something, but those who spend half an hour in each of a hundred cathedrals have seen nothing at all. Revisiting places is revelatory. Go beyond “been there, done that” and take a closer look.

An ancient stone lion in Bodrum, Turkey inspires art-centric travel tips as a writer checks in about lessons learned from traveling full time. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

In Turkey, art may imitate cats . . .
© Joyce McGreevy

A scene of feral cats posing like statues in Istanbul, Turkey inspire art-centric travel tips as a writer checks in about lessons learned from traveling full time. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

. . .and vice versa.
© Joyce McGreevy

 

There’s a world of places to explore—wherever we are. Take travel tips from the Slow Food movement: Don’t rush. Do savor.

Oh, I see: The most important lesson learned from traveling full time is that we’re all traveling full time. Eventually, our mortal passports won’t be eligible for renewal. Until then, check in more often, carry on less “baggage,” and be here for this journey of a lifetime.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Different Cultures Share a Supermarket Dream

by Meredith Mullins on March 6, 2017

Man with shopping cart at La Louve, the new Paris food co-op that unites different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

La Louve: A new Paris food co-op is born from a cross-cultural dream.
© Meredith Mullins

La Louve: A Paris Food Co-op Innovation

You wouldn’t expect a supermarket to grab newspaper headlines. But La Louve, a new food co-op in Paris, has been doing just that.

What makes it newsworthy? It’s the first cooperative supermarket in Paris—a social experiment where members are responsible for the direction and daily functioning of the enterprise.

It has the added unique quality of being modeled after an American food co-op and creatively sculpted to work in France. An intriguing blend of different cultures.

Child shopping at the Paris food co-op La Louve, showing a successful blend of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

A supermarket for all ages
© Meredith Mullins

Realizing a Dream

France is not new to the concept of cooperatives and is certainly not new to the advantages of blending the best of distinctive cultures.

There were some challenges, however, as Americans Tom Boothe and Brian Horihan dove into this adventure.

Both Tom and Brian were residents of France interested in quality food, the protection of the planet, and an alternative to a profit-oriented commercial approach to food shopping.

And both had experience with the successful Park Slope Co-op in Brooklyn, New York—an exemplary prototype for their dream.

Shelf of olive oils at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Offering the best quality products at reduced prices
© Meredith Mullins

The mission was simple: to offer quality products at a reduced price and to be able to pay the producers a fair price for their products.

The question was how to fit this model into France—to work within existing laws, gain government support, and respect cultural preferences.

La Louve sign in the window, identifying the Paris food co-op and recognizing a merging of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

La Louve Supermarket in Test Phase
© Meredith Mullins

The She-Wolf Approach

 La Louve in French translates to she wolf. A strong alpha-female animal that protects and defends and does not stop until the work is done or the goal is reached. Family is paramount (as is survival of the pack).

The name seemed fitting as the seed of a dream for this experimental food co-op designed to build community around a common goal.

Tom and Brian met each challenge with cross-cultural intelligence. Six years of hard work and perseverance later, La Louve opened its doors.

Cashier line at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in the blending of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Even in the Test Phase, La Louve is a busy place.
© Meredith Mullins

Values and Principles

 La Louve functions via two primary concepts. It is a not-for-profit association whose members, as in all co-ops, participate in the governing and functioning of the supermarket. Members vote, as co-owners, on decisions that need to be made.

In addition, as in the Park Slope Co-op model, each member dedicates time each month to work at the co-op.

Woman marks prices at the refrigerator in the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in the blending of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

A La Louve co-op member marks product prices.
© Meredith Mullins

For La Louve, members work three hours every four weeks. This requirement proved more difficult to implement in France, since it is unusual for someone to be required to work for no pay, even a modest three hours every month.

The work tasks for the co-op members range from cashiering to receiving deliveries, stocking shelves, cleaning, and managing administrative duties.

Three people discuss wine at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in the blending of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Co-founder Tom Boothe (also a wine expert) provides wine information to a co-op member.
© Meredith Mullins

As more members join the co-op, more jobs will be created. Since the Park Slope co-op was founded in 1973 and now has more than 16,000 working members, many different jobs exist there.

In addition to standard supermarket-type jobs, Park Slope members can accompany shoppers home or to the subway to help them with their packages; write for the LineWaiters gazette, a co-op newspaper to read while waiting in the cashier line; or wash the toys in the children’s center, since childcare is a service provided to shoppers or workers.

The member workforce provides a customer-oriented shopping experience, a spirit of community, and the low overhead needed to keep product prices at their lowest.

A man selects from the produce shelves at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Organic produce from local producers
© Meredith Mullins

What’s on La Louve’s Shelves?

With brands such as Naturattiva, BioNaturae, Artisinale, and Naturata on the shelves, the underlying focus of the co-op is evident. Although there is not a requirement that products be organic (bio, in French), each offering is carefully selected to be the best and most healthful choice available.

The purchasing group (le groupment d’achats) invests time in researching each product. They conduct taste tests when needed to maintain their goal of quality—for example, sampling a variety of olive oils or chocolates or teas before deciding which to carry. (Put me on the wine team, please.)

Wine shelf at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

It’s France! An incredible selection of wines
© Meredith Mullins

They also strive to source products from local, planet-friendly producers who share the same values and ethical and environmentally sound work practices as the co-op.

The products are selected based on group decisions and will evolve according to the wishes of the co-op members.

Shelf of potato chips at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Organic potato chips—pourquoi pas?
© Meredith Mullins

Do you want a snack while you’re watching that soccer match? Reach for organic chili- or sour-cream-flavored chips. Do you have a chocolate craving? Try a Chocolate and Love bar.

Shelf of chocolate bars at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Chocolate and Love
© Meredith Mullins

Are you looking for warmth during a cold winter? How about the popular lambswool socks. Do you depend on fresh organic fruit and vegetables? Local producers will deliver what’s in season.

All of these choices can be found at 15–40% less than at the major supermarket chains.

The mayor of Paris, Anne Hidalgo, talks with the diverse members of La Louve, the Paris food co-op that recognizes different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The Mayor of Paris, Anne Hidalgo (orange scarf), and the Mayor of the 18th arrondissement, Eric Lejoindre (behind her to the left), visit with members of La Louve.
© Meredith Mullins

What’s in La Louve’s Heart?

The diversity of the co-op members creates a vibrant dynamic. Although the store has been open only four months and is still in its test phase, there are more than 4500 members (with 42% living in the 18th arrondissement where the store is located).

This neighborhood was chosen, with the support of the City of Paris and the Mayor of the 18th arrondissement, because of the heterogeneity of the population and the need for a place where quality food could be purchased for a reduced price.

Two people chat at the food co-op La Louve in Paris, showing a successful blend of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

A friendly environment for shopping (co-founder Brian Horihan center photo)
© Meredith Mullins

The project inspires a spirit of community. As one of the co-op members said, it’s great to see people really talking with one another in a supermarket. Another member mentions that she enjoys shopping with a smile. The camaraderie is a large part of the experience.

The project has also led to other new co-ops in France. Cities such as Lille, Bordeaux, Grenoble, Toulouse, Montpellier, and Marseille are following the same processes that La Louve implemented to reach a successful outcome.

Paris Mayor Anne Hidalgo talks with members of the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in the blending of different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Mayor Hidalgo receives an honorary membership to La Louve.
© Meredith Mullins

The “Oh, I See” Moments

There are many “Oh, I see” moments in La Louve’s six-year road to reality. For me, as co-op member #6 (an early adopter), there was much to learn from the dedication of the original visionaries.

They were committed to their core values. Their hard work offered them little immediate reward other than the hope that the dream would someday become reality.

They rose to the challenges that molding an American food co-op concept into a French reality presented—different cultures uniting in a productive way.

And now, members reap the rewards of being able to shop with a smile.

Shopping cart at the Paris food co-op La Louve, an experiment in blending different cultures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Vive La Louve
© Meredith Mullins

For more information, visit La Louve Food Co-op, Park Slope Food Co-op, Food Co-op, the film by Tom Boothe, and City of Paris.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

 

Nobody in Bulgaria Is Calling You a Hobo

by Joyce McGreevy on February 27, 2017

A Bulgarian street prompts the thought that learning a second language will mean learning a second alphabet, Cyrillic. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Not all who wander Bulgarian streets are lost, just the non-Bulgarians.
© Joyce McGreevy

When Learning a Second Language
Means Learning a Second Alphabet

Your mission? Walk to the store. The one with signs that say “HOBO!” Funny, many stores in Bulgaria display that word. Why? You’re learning a second language, but hobo is nowhere in your phrasebook.

Even more mystifying to an English speaker? Bulgarian maps.

A Bulgarian map helps the author understand that learning a second language will mean learning a second alphabet, Cyrillic. (Image in the public domain.)

Should I turn наляво or надясно? And which is which?

Someone tells you, “Bilingual signs are everywhere.” So off you go, innocent as the day you were born. Sure enough, you find a sign with two versions of a street name.

Breakthrough? Nope. Because the sign isn’t actually bilingual. You’re looking at two distinct alphabets showcasing one common language.

Oh sure, the Roman script looks familiar because, it’s used for English. You can even sound it out: Ulitsa Sveti Kiril I Metodiy. But the language is Bulgarian.

And that other script?  Кирил И Методий ул. That’s Cyrillic. If it were in English it would say Saints Cyril and Methodius Street.

You don’t just have a language barrier—you have an alphabet barrier.

Bulgarian lettering on a beer glass helps the author understand that learning a second language will mean learning a second alphabet, Cyrillic. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Do I “ask for it by name” or keep pointing
at the cute horsey on the menu?
© Joyce McGreevy

Surprising Cyrillic

Oh, I see: Sometimes learning a second language means learning a second alphabet.

What to do? Stick to GPS? Staring at your phone while crossing city streets seems unwise.

Brazen it out? Seek directions by speaking only English?  Also problematic.

It promotes a double standard:  “When people come to our English-speaking country they should learn the language, and when we go to their non-English speaking countries we should . . . uh, be able to count on others speaking English.”

Decorative graffiti on a Bulgarian street shows that learning a second language and a second alphabet, Cyrillic, can be fun. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The plays of Шекспир are popular worldwide, including in Bulgaria.
© Joyce McGreevy

When in Bulgaria . . .

You could copy street names in Roman script and show them to locals while looking pathetic and finger-miming the act of walking. Thing is, Roman script in Bulgaria, like many other Balkan countries, is a relatively recent phenomenon. It’s a linguistic standardization linked to membership of the European Union.

So, unless you’re showing your note to Sofia’s millennials—many of whom speak three or more languages—you’ll find that Roman script is as unfamiliar to many locals as Cyrillic is to you.

In a pinch, there are translation apps. But good luck forging authentic human connections as you stand jabbing the keypad of a device while holding up the line at a café.

My friend, it’s time to learn a little Cyrillic.

Language Geeks and Greeks

Zahari Zograf's 1848 mural of Bulgarian saints Cyril and Methodius show how the Cyrillic alphabet relates to learning a second language. (Image in the public domain)

Men of letters: Cyril and Methodius with alphabet.
Mural by Zahari Zograf (1848)

First, meet Cyril. St. Cyril, to be precise.

Cyril must be the Russian fellow who invented the Cyrillic alphabet, right?

Sorry, no. According to Bulgarian scholars, Bulgaria introduced Cyrillic, not Russia.

So, Cyril the Bulgarian invented Cyrillic?

If only it were that simple.

He was from Thessaloniki, which today is part of Greece, but was then part of the Bulgarian Empire. Cyril  and his kid brother Methodius were monks who liked monkeying around with language.

And so these two Greek Bulgarians (or Bulgarian Greeks) invented the Glagolitic alphabet.

So Many Alphabets, So Little Time

Now I know what you’re thinking:  Aha! Glagolitic must have been the first Slavic alphabet! And you’d be right.

The whole thing was modeled on Ancient Greek. In 850 A.D., there was plenty of Ancient Greek left over just waiting for hotshots like Cyril and Methodius to put it to good use.

The Acropolis reminds the author that learning a second language, Bulgarian, owes much to Ancient Greece, birthplace of Cyrillic. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Ancient Greek, a pillar of the (language) community.
© Joyce McGreevy

Having set up future generations of Greek and Bulgarian scholars with topics for debate, Cyril and Methodius passed mischievously away. Oh, those wacky monks.

In the 10th century, the C&M Brothers’ linguistic start-up was replaced by another evolution of the Bulgarian alphabet. This is the alphabet that scholars named after both brothers—oops sorry, fella—just Cyril.

Alas, there was no Methodius to their fad-ness.

Today, Cyrillic features in more than 50 languages spoken by over 250 million people in Eurasia. Also in Chicago, home to the largest Balkan community outside of the Balkans.

A traditionally dressed Bulgarian woman using a smartphone remind the author that learning a second language means learning a second alphabet, Cyrillic. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Communication has changed with the times
in Bulgaria, but Cyrillic is still going strong.
© Joyce McGreevy

Getting from A to Ж

Let’s begin. There are 30 pairs of letters in the Cyrillic alphabet. Some look and sound a lot like letters in the Roman alphabet: A as in palm, E as in best, O as in order.

Then you have trickster letters, like:

CYRILLIC SOUNDS LIKE AS IN
H N No way!
B V Very confusing!
P R Reeeally?
C S Seriously?

And I haven’t even mentioned Д (not to be confused with Л). Or Щ (not to be confused with Ш).

Decorative graffiti in Bulgaria suggests the feeling of learning a second language by learning a second alphabet, Cyrillic. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

One way to decipher two alphabets?
© Joyce McGreevy

Magical Cyrillic

Okay, just dip your toe in. You’d be surprised what a difference even a handful of letters can make. Consider it your magic decoder ring.

Remember: Many letters, including K, A, and E, made it from Cyrillic into Roman unchanged.

Now, look at this letter:  Ф. It sounds like PH in Phone. Knowing that, you can decipher this:

A Bulgarian Cyrillic sign for coffee suggests the benefits of learning a second language by learning a second alphabet. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Okay, so the visual cues help, too.
© Joyce McGreevy

Next, check out these two signs.

Bulgarian street signs in Cyrillic show that learning a second language can mean learning a second alphabet, Cyrillic. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

“These little town обувки are longing to отклоняват…”
© Joyce McGreevy

You’ve learned Ф, so you can read the sign on the green post.

Now check out the sign on the right. Remember:  P (Cyrillic) = R (Roman).

Hooked on Cyrillic

But those are cognates, you say.  What about words that are All-Bulgarian-All-the-Time?

A Bulgarian sign for antiques shows that learning a second language sometimes means learning a second alphabet, Cyrillic. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Shop till ya припадне!
© Joyce McGreevy

Does Aптека mean “antique”? Look again, knowing that п (Cyrillic) = P (Roman).

Roman lettering makes it APTEKA, which means “Pharmacy.” Handy to know when you have a headache and a 17th century vase just won’t help.

As for HOBO, many a tourist out shopping for souvenirs has misinterpreted it—because they mistook the letters for Roman. But—say it with me —they’re Cyrillic.

Seriously, Nobody in Bulgaria Is Calling You a Hobo

Remember:

  • H (Cyrillic) = N (Roman)
  • O is O in both alphabets
  • B (Cyrillic) = V (Roman)

In short, the Bulgarian word HOBO (Cyrillic) is NOVO (Roman), which literally means NEW. As in, “Sale! Buy now!”

Sold on learning a second language? Then consider learning a second alphabet. From Bulgaria to Greece, Eurasia to Chicago, Cyrillic is as easy as АБЦ.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

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