Square cakes in round holes

I can still vividly recall my first night in Germany, some twenty years ago. We arrived late, and settled into borrowed dorm room accommodations quickly thereafter. Curled up under an incredibly warm feather duvet, I realized I needed to go to the bathroom. Not wanting to disturb the whole floor, I slipped quietly to the bathroom, closed the door ever so gently, and reached out to turn on the light. But my hand met only bare wall. It took what seemed forever to find the switch, groping in the darkness, the time likely amplified by the growing pressure in my bladder. In the light of day, I could see that all the switches were about ten inches lower than I was expecting or used to. My Darling Husband (who was just a Handsome Boyfriend at the time), explained that the switches were low down so children could reach them. I figured we put them up higher so kids couldn’t reach them.

When Number One Son was but a wee two, we spent a cold January in Dublin in what is called a self-catering flat, really a short stay row house. It had every modern convenience (a dishwasher would have been entirely too modern) and the property manager was most proud of the power shower. It was, alarmingly, an electric box that hung in the shower itself—as if there was plenty of room in the already cramped quarters for a small appliance—and boosted either the water pressure or temperature. Truth be told, neither of us ever really figured out what it was supposed to do, as it generally gave us a tepid dribble no matter how we set it. But we did discover it was a lesser, colder dribble with the thing turned off.

Last week, as I scoured Tesco’s shelves for some crackers that might be a tasty wheat-free alternative for some tempting Wexford cheese, I found a package of rye crackers, and chuckled when I noted they were round. My cheddar cheese is square however, so the corners hang off—for easily nibbling, I suppose. I didn’t see any rice cakes, or so I thought. But wait, here they are, and they’re square! (They’re also smaller, so you can easily have a little something.) It’s just the opposite of home, where rye crackers are square and rice cakes are round (and big).

When we are removed from our habits and comfort zone, it is easy to dwell on the differences. Even as experienced world travelers, we sometimes refer to our travels as adventures in plumbing. But when we dig past the superficial differences, we realize that there far more similarity than difference. Light switches still allow electricity to pass, regardless of the current or their position on the walls; knobs and valves still allow water (however warm) to pass through pipes onto our shampooed heads; and foods play the same role.

This evening at dinner (rosemary tofu, rice, broccoli and the sweetest carrots from down the road near Cheddar) our olio of nationalities mused at how different the world would be if everyone (and especially world leaders) were required to spend a few months living in another culture. By learning the differences on a visceral, everyday level, they just might discover that we have far more in common than we think.