"So an American, an Irishmen and a German all walk into a bar..." Listen to enough jokes that start this way and you might start to believe the stereotypes: Poles are stupid, Germans are efficient, Irishmen drink too much, Americans are arrogant, etc.
Of course, it's all nonsense, right? I mean, how can you ever realistically label an entire nation of millions as this or that? These are just antiquated stereotypes of bygone generations, silly little nothings that Grandpa says at the dinner table, like, "Oh, Mr. Schmidt down the street, now that guy's a model of German discipline. Mows his lawn every Sunday at two, like clockwork."
Everyone nods politely, but deep down we know that Germans are no more disciplined or efficient than the rest of us. Silliness, I would have said a few short weeks ago.
That was then. After two months abroad, I think I might have become a spirited believer in bigotry.
I'm kidding. I swear I'm not a bigot. But traveling in Europe has made me realize each culture is very unique. For example: the figurative grandpa I just mentioned couldn't be more right. The whole "German efficiency" myth is anything but.
The first hint I had on German discipline occurred within five minutes of getting off my train in Munich. It was late, and I was getting ready to cross a smaller side street to arrive at my hostel. Four or five people were standing at the crosswalk. The sign was flashing red, signaling not to cross, but the street was totally empty. We're talking about a side street barely wide enough to fit a car. I looked both ways, and you couldn't see a car coming in the whole of Munich. Dust devils were practically blowing down the street.
Naturally, I crossed the street and expected the crowd of Germans waiting to do the same. Not only did they not cross, they also looked at me like I was growing six heads out of my ass. I was intrigued, so I stood at the other end of the crosswalk waiting. They refused to walk until the light turned green, and kept looking at me like I was insane.
Later, I did some snooping. "Is jaywalking a big crime in Germany?" I asked some people at my hostel. They told me that it wasn't, but people simply didn't do it. Over the next few days I didn't see a single person cross the street outside a crosswalk or without a green light.
Since arriving in Prague, I've realized Czechs have quirks of their own. To oversimplify (and probably get myself in trouble), Czechs are grumpy. Most tourists describe them as outright rude. That description lacks nuance, but having been here for over a month now, I certainly understand why a tourist might feel this way.
In stores and restaurants, the American idea of "the customer is always right" is completely absent. Instead, the attitude is, "You've decided to visit my store? I guess that's OK. Please don't piss me off too badly today."
And it's not an issue of Czechs specifically disliking Americans. Czechs generally have much better feelings about Americans than everyone else in Europe, mostly because we're still viewed by many as the great and impervious vanquishers of Communism.
The best explanation I can find - and the one offered by the most introspective Czechs - is a historical one. Decades of suppressive, harsh, incredibly cruel Communist rule in the Czech Republic had dire political and economic effects, but they also seem to have had the psychological effect of turning the country into a nation of sour skittles.
For 40 years, Czechs dealt with a Communist regime where talking too much about the wrong thing could result in a lost job or jail time. The skepticism engendered by that climate takes generations of change to fade away, and a thick pall is still tangible in this country.
None of this can be proven. After all, New Yorkers are supposed to be rude as well, and that city has never suffered from a totalitarian dictatorship (George Steinbrenner not withstanding).
And let me reiterate: rude is probably the wrong word. Reserved is better. Once you get to know Czechs, they're as friendly as everyone else. Plus, as the country continues to move further towards an open society, any perceived sense of Czech coldness should fade away as well.
In one respect, this would be a shame for me. I would lose my last excuse as to why Czech women (who are mind-bogglingly gorgeous) shoo me away every time I try to talk to them. Clearly, any current failures with the opposite sex are simply a result of a mass psycho-social complex caused by Communist rule.
Just as I always suspected.
Dave Pomerantz is a junior majoring in history. He can be reached via e-mail at david.pomerantz@tufts.edu.
