Why, why, why?
Welcome to my random musings about the world, on a weekly-to-occasional basis.
Where we are: We’re in Shanghai, where Typhoon Kong-Rey has put a sopping wet damper on outdoor activities.
Why, why, why?
Humans are a mystery to me. That’s one of the reasons I write these essays; I’m trying to make sense of things. I am so often completely mystified/flabbergasted/perplexed by things I see people do.
Why—why—do Armenians gather in the doorway of the grocery store to chat and smoke and hang out? WHY did wearing one gigantic hair roller in the middle of one’s forehead become a trend in South Korea? Why is it that in some countries, people do all kinds of noisy things on their phones, in public, without headphones, while in other countries, everyone wears headphones? Why do people in some cultures wear wedding bands on the left hand, while in others they’re worn on the right, and in yet others they don’t seem to be worn at all? Why would someone fly halfway around the world to stay at a very expensive safari lodge, and then skip the game drives? Why are the people of some countries really good at waiting for people to exit the subway before they try to board, while in other countries it’s a free-for-all, in spite of signage and messaging and how completely obvious it is that this would all be so much easier if people would just follow the damn rules!
In some countries, I go to the market and if I want some plums, I pick half a dozen out of the pile, put them in a bag, and hand the bag to the cashier. They are weighed, and I pay. In other countries, I’d be chastised if I touched the plums. And in yet other countries, I have to bag and weigh them myself. I don’t know why. It just is.
The, truth is, the longer I live, the less I understand. The longer we travel, the more I see, the less I know. Culture runs deep—history, governance, sociology, tradition, economics—I can’t begin to understand what makes a population tick. A five-day, two-week, two-month visit isn’t enough to even learn a few words in most countries, never mind understand the context and circumstances that breed behaviors or trends or cultural idiosyncrasies.
I go to breakfast in our hotel and I wonder why that person chose to sit right next to us, when most of the restaurant is empty. I wonder why he got plate after plate of food, and never finished any of it. I wonder why he slurps his soup so loudly. For that matter, I wonder why soup is even a breakfast food.
I’ve totally given up. I no longer try to figure out why people do what they do—I refuse to speculate. All I would be able to do is stereotype and generalize and assume, and that just feels wrong. I think it might even defeat the whole purpose of traveling. I have finally realized that I can’t possibly understand why anyone does what they do.
The world will just have to remain a mystery to me.
Take care,
Lisa
P.S. Thanks for reading, and feel free to share. If you have feedback, I’d love to hear it. And if someone forwarded this to you, thank them for me, and go to https://bookwoman.com/ to subscribe.