How not to cross the street in America

Each time upon returning to the states there are small cultural differences I forget about.

This time after returning from our South America Adventures, I forgot how to cross the road in America. And I live in one of the worst states to forget: Vermont.

My tacit for crossing the road started out no differently than what my parents taught me from age three, look twice both directions and when there’s no cars, cross. Simple. It was when I executed this plan the trouble happened.

We traveled this past winter through Peru, Chile and Argentina. In the bigger cities, for the most part, sidewalks, cross walks and stop lights functioned much the same as they do in America. Santiago, Chile was an exceptionally clean and modern city. Outside the bigger cities, getting across the road meant taking the advice my parents gave me, plus using what I learned in high school Mathematics. Which meant I calculated the speed of oncoming traffic to determine if my moving speed could get me to the center of the road to pause, recalculate, and make it across the other lane of traffic. This equation became routine as crossing the road became more about math than worrying about where and when I decided to make the move.

Until I was in down town Montpelier, Vermont.  I had run my errands, had my letters and proceeded make my calculations to cross the road. What happened next led to the annoyed drivers in a traffic jam.

My calculations were no different than anything I had been doing for the past four months, except this time as I stepped into the street all the cars stopped everywhere. I was planning on the car to my left to keep cruising by, giving me just enough time to dash before the oncoming car on my right and presto! I would have crossed the street just fine without incident.

This was not what happened.

Both cars slammed on their brakes, threw their arms up, (it was Vermont, so they didn’t give me the finger) but they did obviously point to the cross walk sign about five feet back, annoyingly waved me across the street, while the other cars had to slam on their brakes. It was one of the hardest times I’ve had crossing the street in months. But I made it. And the incident reminded me that I had landed back on America pavement. And in America, people are supposed to cross the street in cross walks, especially if you live in Vermont. I remember now.

I’ve also found myself unconsciously throwing all my toilet paper into garbage bathrooms – even when this has required considerable effort – only to remember in America we can through our toilet paper in the toilet.

Nice bathrooms in Peru

I’ve gestured to let people in front of me for a line so I could stand off to the side and compose my thoughts in Spanish or write a note to give to the person at the counter so they understand what I want. Then it dawned on me I will be able to ask the lady at the window for five postcard stamps in English and regret having let that person with three packages go ahead of me.

Lines for everything in South America.

There are so many lights. Lights everywhere for everything. Our light switches glow so we can find where to flip the switch and turn on the light. We have lights on sidewalks, fields, parking lots, exit ramps of the freeway in the middle of no where. There are lights. A lot of lights. Everywhere. I don’t know if I like this.

Cusco Lights at Christmas.

People have less tattoos. In South America almost everyone had a tattoo. I wanted to be like them. I loved it because I could live vicariously through their ink. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to get a tattoo on my left arm. But then I equally wonder what it will look like at 70. Then I figure I won’t care at 70. Then I usually conclude I am over-thinking the tattoo. I am still considering getting one.

Some of these people definitely have tattoos, you can’t see them because we were all so bundled up for hiking on Moreno Glacier.

I miss the street art. South America is a continent covered in art. I was blown away by the creativity. The colors and skills of artists in places like Valparaiso inspired me. I wanted to take every joe-smo who tags their name to a wall or draws a smiley face and put them in a room until they could create something even half the skill level I saw of the street art we saw during our travels.

One thing I do like about being back in America is there is less garbage on the ground. I do not think this is because we throw any less trash on the ground. I think it’s because we pay more people to pick it up.

Garbage Dumpsters

Since my incident in the streets of Montpelier, I have had more awareness I am back in the states. I’m slowly getting used to finding those white lines so I can get across the street. It’s always important to know the cultural norms of the country you are in.

What can happen to you if you are not careful crossing the street.