Let's face it: Communication is a freakin' struggle and can be a huge stumbling block to any interpersonal relationship you have, especially if you haven't mastered the art of communication like me (HA! That's a joke...there's no such thing as a communication master. We all have things to learn and a long way to go to learn it.). What seems innocuous to one person is a major slight or insult to the receiver or another, especially without context. Rereading some of the text message conversations I've had with people is a perfect example of this. So much is lost without the inflection, tone of voice, facial gestures (emojis totally do not count as stand-ins for facial expressions, by the way), body language...I think you know where I'm going with this. Anyway. Back to rereading text message conversations (or emails or digital communication of pretty much any sort), and you end up hoping and praying that the receiver is picking up what you're putting down and vice versa. It totally sucks when something goes completely sideways because your text message was woefully inadequate in communicating your desired message. There's no quick and easy solution to the whole communication problem (sadly) but it definitely helps to practice a lot and to emphasize the positive. These are things I'm learning every day, with every interaction that I have with people. Also, there is nothing better than speaking with someone face-to-face or, at least, on the phone. And please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not use the method of communicating with someone using solely emojis. We have evolved from a pictograph language. Let's collectively attempt to maintain our forward momentum wherein this is concerned.
So now I'll tell you a story:
I was living in Germany and had just finished training for the language school where I was starting to work. They had ponied up for the training and the travel to Leipzig, which was about an hour and a half by train from where I lived. It's a beautiful little city that I highly recommend checking out, if you have the opportunity. I finished my last day in training and had a couple of hours to knock around Leipzig before my train left. I found myself wandering around one of the many parks that proliferate Europe in general and Germany in particular. I had my backpack on and was, by all outward appearances, clearly American. There's something very distinct about Americans abroad but I guess you could say that about any nationality. Seriously, how hard is it to pick out the German guy on the beach in Florida?
So, there I am, wandering around in no particular fashion (the very definition of wandering, I suppose), and this guy in a black jacket and jeans starts wandering sorta close to me. I eyed him sideways a few times and stood up a little straighter but didn't think much about it. We were, after all, the only ones in the park so why should I be concerned? Did I mention that I was 22 at the time and totally fearless? So, black jacket and jeans gets closer to me and strikes up what could be considered a conversation if his English was better or my German was passable. Instead, it was a rather stilted exchange that left me horrified and him humiliated. He opened with the usual "Hello" and, as I mentioned before, had already pegged me as an American. I politely said, "Hi" and was planning on leaving it at that. He asked, "How are you?" I replied that I was good and stopped wandering. This was clearly not a place to continue wandering. Then he posed a really interesting question. He asked, "Do you love?" How poignant, I thought! How wondrously thoughtful and interesting and insightful for starting a discussion with a complete stranger from another culture in a deserted park! I nodded wholeheartedly and quickly said, "Yes! I love! I love my friends. I love my family! I love my cat! I love the earth! I love Germany!" This went on for longer than it should of and he cut me off before I could start naming species of plants and animals or shades of colors or individual shapes that I had a particular affinity for over another. He shook his head a little bit and then he asked, "Do you love...for money?" This struck me as a peculiar idea until it hit me. Black jacket and jeans had just asked me if I was a prostitute! The nerve! Really?!? I was wearing a backpack! What kind of streetwalker wanders around deserted parks all alone while wearing a backpack? I failed, utterly and completely, to hide my horror. I'm not sure which one of us fled the scene faster but, the next thing I knew, I was hightailing it out of the park and he disappeared from wherever he came from.
When I got home later that evening, I called my boyfriend at the time, full of righteous indignation that someone would mistake me, ME!, for a prostitute. When he laughed at the whole thing, I was agog at his response. How in the hell could he think any of this was funny? His girlfriend was mistaken as a prostitute! A lady of the evening! A hooker! Despite all of these exclamations, he laughed harder and explained the ways of German culture to me. "It's not a thing here," he said. "It's not like America where people are really uptight and weird about that sort of thing. You were alone in a park, just wandering around. If you were German or any other nationality, there's a good chance that you would have responded much differently to his question and made some extra cash on the side." Needless to say, I was speechless and it took me more than a few minutes to recover after his explanation. Today I can laugh about it and chalk it up to a cultural and social miscommunication, thankfully. And I can tell you the story about the time some guy in Germany asked me if I loved...for money.
Until next time, keep up your end of the communication.
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