Red Herring

I just returned from a lovely week in Sweden, and despite my overdose of blondes in tight pants, I had a very nice time.

I was out for a training meeting with colleagues from around the globe, and what surprised me most was how ignorant I am about most of the world.

My meeting was populated by some Italians, Spaniards, Chinese, Taiwanese, an Indonesian, a Brit, and of course, loads of Swedes. Everyone spoke English, which means for everyone except the Brit, they are all bi-lingual.

I am constantly fascinated and jealous of the bi-lingual and feel that they don't get enough credit. Be honest, when you get in a cab or when your cleaning lady comes, don't you always feel a bit superior? But how many languages do you speak, buddy? Could you conduct your livelihood in Swahili? I think not.

I decided that I will take some Spanish lessons this summer to dust off the old high school educación. Plus it will make CSI: Miami villains much more relatable.

Another item of note was that most of the conversation covered US politics. I must have said the following phrase 100 times, "I think it's so interesting that you follow US politics. Most people in America don't even pay attention."

I know nothing about the current political race in China, or if they are allowed to vote there (are they still Communists?) Yet my Chinese friend knew everything about the Democratic primaries. He likes Obama by the way.

I did however receive props for my big-city Bush bashing. I think my colleague from Michigan was in trouble on that one. I'm pretty sure Bush drives American.

I was so overwhelmed by this clash of cultures that I did not embrace my usual zealous quest to consume all local foods. In every other country I have been to (or state for that matter), I make it a point to try the native cuisine. This is why I am one of two people I know who has eaten kudu. Yes, that's an animal.

At meal time, I stuck to fish. And not terribly traditional fish either.

The Swedes love their fish, probably because Stockholm is made up of 14 islands. I was also told a story about salmon being the food of the poor. The salmon people must have ingenious marketing folks these days. But the most traditional fish is herring. Pickled herring. Chased with a shot of whisky. I am not kidding.

It could have been my self-consciousness at my lack of globality, or the fact that I wasn't into vomiting in front of co-workers, but I skipped the herring and shots.

All in all, I was a pretty lame American. But I did drink the local beer.