Driving culture

 

[Man behind the wheel*]

It is said that our first 18 years have a lifetime impact. Our childhood affects the foods we enjoy, our approaches to life, the way we raise our children and even our career choices, to name a few. Granted, each of us over time accepts or rejects this heritage at any given time but it is present and impacts our life one way or another.

I recently became aware that it also influences how we drive. Simply put, I am a much better driver in the United States than in Israel. By better, I mean more natural and relaxed. In the United States, I sense the kind of stupidity to expect from the drivers around me. I know the expected pattern of speeding up and slowing down (except on Sunday when the “Sunday drivers” come out). I am confident in my ability to identify early and react to any situation. As a result, I am relaxed when I drive in the United States, especially on the West Coast, and find the driving experience neutral, i.e., neither pleasant nor unpleasant. By contrast, in Israel, I actively monitor all cars around me, expecting them to try to risk their life to reach the same red light 30 seconds before me. I am rarely disappointed. Although I still often sense what a given driver will do, I am less confident and more stressed. For me, a 45 minutes’ drive in Israel is not fun, to put it mildly.

Logically, that should not be so as I have driven in Israel for many more years than I did in the United States. I drove in the States for some 12 years regularly, getting my driver’s license at the age of 17 until I immigrated at the age of 28. Adding annuals trips over many years, I have driven on US roads for some 15 years at most. By contrast, I have lived in Israel some 32+ years, driving on a regular basis for a good part of that period. I am quite familiar with the roads and the drivers. They should be second-nature.

Of course, driving in the Mediterranean is Mediterranean is highly entertaining, at least for those that enjoy action. Whether in Spain, Italy, Tunisia or Israel, Mediterranean drivers own the road, literally. Other drivers are mere trespassers and really should not be there. Not only that, as elsewhere, phone calls and personal arguments are of greater priority than keeping with the flow. Still, the traffic flow around this middle sea does have a specific tempo that can be learned.

Clearly, high temperatures affect driver attitudes but only so much. As the mercury goes up, driver patience tends to go down and tempers rise. It does not take much to begin an argument between two drivers here. A sudden stop will suffice to create some interesting street action. The fact that all cars in Israel have had air conditioning since 1995 has not significantly mitigated the slaughter on the roads based on the annual numbers. Not only that, drivers from many other countries also suffer from high temperatures but still exhibit patience. The weather itself does not explain the difference.

It is possible that my driving culture was formed not only by actually time behind the wheel but in the surrounding seats. For some 16 years, I watched my parents and other people drive and the interaction between them. In a passive but embedding way, I “learned” how to drive, which I applied when I became an adult. As I came here at the age of 28, I did not receive that education. Thus, my comprehension of Israeli drivers is not instinctive. On the other hand, it may be just me. Other immigrants may have gone native with no problem. I confess to have done no research on this subject.

So, in my opinion, driving patterns are a cultural phenomenon. They are affected, as in all such matters, by both childhood and later life experience. I strongly affect that the former has more of an influence than people suspect.

* Caption pictures to help the blind access the Internet. Picture credit: Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/photos/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=1149997">Free-Photos</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=1149997">Pixabay</a>

Ode to the Mediterranean diet - Portion, proportion and price

                                           (Eggplant and tahina as prepared by my wife)

I just returned from a three-week trip to the United States. I was happy to return to my bed, cats, computers and, no less importantly, my diet.  It was not that I ate badly on my trip.  I ate solid American food, fancy French food, tasty Asian food and good basic Mexican food, to name a few.  I certainly did not go hungry.  Still, it is a relief to go back to my Mediterranean diet, filed with lots of vegetables in dishes and salads, a reasonable amount of protein, fresh fruit and nuts.

At each of the restaurant types I dined in, something seemed off.  Typical American fare, such as deli sandwiches, pancakes and American breakfast, is tasty and filling but the portions are simply too big.  The feeling after the meal borders and even sometimes crosses over to heaviness. While it is possible to order smaller portions or split dishes, the eyes are much bigger than the stomach.  The food on the plate only turns out to be too much when after you have finished eating it. I really can live without American food.

I also enjoyed several Asian restaurants.  I relish curries and spicy food. The issue is the matter of proportion.  Hot is as hot feels. Everybody has a different comfort zone but a restaurant can only cater to it to a limited degree. I always felt that I wanted it a bit hotter or milder. Having eaten Chinese food in China I understand that there simply is no single standard of spicing.  The process of trial and error is a long process. Also, the proportion of meat to vegetables is low by Western standards. That is probably good for the body but not always enough for the soul. For me, Asian food is a treat, not an everyday meal.

I also dined a several very fine French restaurants.  The portions were right for middle-aged persons and left me with a nice feeling of having eaten enough but not too much. The taste was rich with complicated sauces complementing the well-prepared meats.  The problem was that the price was rich also.  Comparing the price and the amount of food it purchased, something seemed off. While I was satisfied in terms of quantity and quality, the cost seemed exorbitant. French restaurants are an expensive diet.

Now I am back home with my eggplant, chopped vegetable salad, tahina, shakshuka, falafel, kabab and humus, not to mention lamb, chicken and fish.  The portions, even in restaurants, are sufficient but not exaggerated. The flavors are balanced.  If I want it hotter, I can add some sahug, a hot pepper condiment. The prices are quite reasonable by local income standards and more than reasonable for tourists. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.  I would say it also has the same effect on the taste buds and stomachs.

Confrontational politics

As children, we are taught to tell the truth. As adults, we learn not to. Specifically, as we grow up, it becomes more and more evident that the price of being frank is often frankly high: losing friends, getting people angry and even social isolation.  In other words, most people either do not want to hear or are not ready for criticism and bad news.

Culture plays a major part in establishing acceptable behavior. Many societies highly value social cohesion, including Japan, main stream America and Britain and Arab countries. By contrast, “hotter” countries accept temporary unpleasantness, leading people to develop thick skin. The best examples are the Mediterranean and Latin American countries. There, people are allowed to yell and scream without serious social consequences. You get used to “rude” people or leave for more civil (civilized to some) places. Of course, the adjectives used by such locals are hot and genuine as compared to the cold and fake of more gentile countries. As the French say, chacun à son gout (to each his own). The challenge occurs when cultures meet.

I was at a conference when a woman from an Eastern European country gave a 25 minute presentation while sitting down behind a desk and reading into her paper. I don’t understand how the largely non-native speaker crowd understood anything as I found it difficult to catch any words. Not only that, it reminded me of the Yves Montand song, le telegramme (http://www.jukebox.fr/yves-montand/clip,le-telegramme,qvqu0p.html), in which an operator completes ruins the most romantic telegram by rendering it monotone. The method ruined the message. After some 10 minutes of suffering, I got up and left the room.

The problem arose at the next break when that same lecturer approached me and asked me why I had left early. I faced a cultural schizophrenic dilemma: my American side told me to mumble something about having to go the bathroom or the like while my Israeli psyche took the question literally. The latter prevailed. I told her the truth, trying to soften my words. However, she was not stupid and understood exactly what I meant. The end result was her getting quite upset and me becoming quite confused.

My issue was and is the best way to handle that situation in the future. Should I, as a colleague, defuse the tension by avoiding the issue or take the question at face value, i.e., if you want a critique, you will get one? For comparisons sakes, I had a similar situation a few hours previously but the person agreed with my criticism and thanked me. I tend to think that I will take the latter route as I live in a Mediterranean country where confrontation is a norm. Still, I recognize that discretion is sometimes the better part of valor.  Alas if knew which part.