Final Thoughts on Scandinavia and Russia

Globalization may be rampant – there were Starbucks, McDonalds, and even 7-11s in every port – but my whirlwind tour of this part of Europe confirmed that, despite our shared affluence and liberality (in historical terms), we haven’t become a homogenized whole.   Many differences remain, some inspiring, some frustrating, some surprising, and some downright puzzling.

Let me start with the puzzling:  I’m willing to accept cultural relativism in many contexts, but men wearing capris is not one of them.  It’s just wrong, and should be a universal taboo one step down from proscriptions on murder and marriage between sisters and brothers.  (In the same vein and only slightly less offensive, mullets seem to be making a comeback in parts of Scandinavia.)

Continuing with the surprising:  There’s a great deal of graffiti in Scandinavia, Berlin, and St. Petersburg – probably as much as in many American cities, which I did not expect.  (On the other hand, there was much less smoking than I anticipated, except in Russia.)  I also was taken aback by the relative insensitivity to the needs of individuals with disabilities; there seems to be less emphasis on handicapped access than there is in the U.S.  To some extent that may be the price for having buildings erected half a millennium ago, but especially in St. Petersburg, woe unto those who rely on wheelchairs and walkers.

Much of the inspiration, and almost all of the frustration, relates to environmental stewardship.   For good reason, this is a particularly “green” part of the world: if unchecked, global warming will prove catastrophic to these low-lying countries.   So the ubiquitous trams, bicycles, and windmills are not just picturesque and admirable, they are exercises in self-preservation.  Also exemplary, I suppose, but unappreciated by my Americanized sensitivities, is the Scandinavian disregard for indoor climate control.  Even in public venues (airports, restaurants, tour buses), the temperature can be just short of stifling.  Maybe their air conditioning isn’t built to handle the unusually warm temperatures we enjoyed for the past two weeks, but I think the lack of cool air more likely reflects a culture that values the ability to endure hardships.  Finally, while I fancy myself environmentally responsible (hybrid cars, rigorous recycling, vegetarian diet), I draw the line at the rough and grainy toilet paper.

One final note – every storekeeper, waiter, bus driver and passerby I spoke to not only understood English, but expressed himself or herself fluently.  This is not surprising; millions upon millions of Europeans are multilingual because they have to be.   But how they get there is instructive:  English and other “foreign” languages are taught beginning in early childhood, when the brain is most capable of achieving fluency.  In America, where our native tongue is on the rest of the world thus far has been forced to learn, we generally don’t begin teaching other languages until a child is 12 or 13 – the very point where language receptivity plummets.   In a globalized world where America is no longer the unquestioned dominant player, we probably can’t afford this luxury for much longer.