Nowadays, there are not many shared standards of behavior in public spaces anymore. At least for me, it is hard to assert what is reasonable to expect of my fellow beings in the public square. When I feel that what to me seems a common standard of behavior has been breached, I fret about it for a while, wondering whether my desire to impose my cultural preferences and old-fashioned standards on the behavior of others is a noble pursuit or an exercise in futility.
The following situation is an example.
I was on my way to Bremen, a city in the north of Germany, to attend a tango marathon. I had boarded the train in Utrecht, and it was filled to capacity, so I had to sit in the vestibule1. Next to me, but separated by a doorway, sat two guys drinking beer. Looking at them, I imagined them to be from Poland. Between them stood a rucksack filled with beer cans and a lone bottle of wine. They had big plans, obviously.
One of them had a bomber jacket lying in his lap. When it slid off his knees and fell on the ground, I picked it up in a reflex and handed it back. He thanked me with a thick tongue2, and I noticed the smell of alcohol on his breath. His eyes were a pale blue and on the inside of his elbow, I could see a crude tattoo, probably put there by a friend, certainly not by a professional tattoo artist. He had a scar over his left eyebrow and one across his jaw. I returned to my laptop, looking out the window now and then at the meadows interspersed with clusters of trees and the occasional group of cows chewing grass peacefully.
Then one of the Poles began to fiddle with his phone, searching for music he liked. Ugly sounds started to drift through the tiny space. This irritated me greatly. I thought:” Fucking Poles, go back to your own country, and stop pestering us. “ At first, I decided to put up with it (who am I to impose my wishes in a public space, and besides, they looked quite fearsome) but then I changed my mind and decided my wish for silence was reasonable and that I should do something about the situation. I tapped the one from the jacket on his shoulder and said in a friendly tone: “Excuse me?” Once I had his attention, in an exaggerated fashion I imitated turning down a volume knob. Being from a different generation, he didn’t understand me. Then I pointed to his friend’s phone, put my hands over my ears, and squinted my face as if in pain. Now he understood and asked in a derogatory fashion: ”Why, what is your problem?” I answered:” I don’t like this music.” As I was saying this I felt the guy sitting to my other side tense up. I continued: “We share this space, why should you impose your music on me?” A heated conversation ensued, and finally he said with a dismissive wave of his big hands: ”I don’t care. We just want to have a good time”. I shrugged and said:” I just ask you in a friendly way to be considerate of me.” Then I returned to my laptop.
The music continued. It sounded like Polish Techno, which is not my go-to background music. After a few minutes, though, it stopped. After a while, we resumed our conversation, and indeed, they turned out to be from Poland. According to him, he and his friend were fighting in Ukraine, and were on a short break from the battlefield (are there Poles fighting in Ukraine? I never heard, but it is not implausible). He stressed a few times that he didn’t want to disrespect the Dutch and our culture. I took this to refer to them playing loud music, which he realized could be understood as disrespect.
I have noticed this pattern before. When, in comparable situations, I have a request, at first the person doesn’t want to comply, probably out of fear of being perceived as a pushover. Only after a while can he acquiesce. Since noticing this, I remain cordial after being rebuffed, knowing that my request might be granted later.
A few days later, a guy I know who works in construction was talking about Poles. ”They have a peculiar culture,” he said. “There are two things they really like: heavy drinking and fighting.”
Good I didn’t know.
The part where one enters a passenger train.
A Dutch expression referring to the way someone speaks who has had a few drinks too much.