My column in the Northern Pen, published February 10, 2014
On the Prowl
A Scary Dream
by Bernadette Calonego
I had a scary dream last night: I drove in a open pink converible through St. Anthony and further on to St. Lunaire-Griquet and then to L`Anse aux Meadows, singing loudly “La musica triste nel mio cuore è la musica di te” (or something like it). You can do such a thing in Italy, no problem. But not on the Northern Peninsula. In my dream, everywhere people were standing outside and shaking their heads. I knew that from then on, I would have to hide and only go out in the dark.
The trigger for this dream must have been the Italian movie that I had watched the evening before. It was a comedy and there was a pink convertible in the movie and – Italians being Italians – songs were belt out loudly in the cobblestone streets. The certainty that I will never own a pink convertible, and therefore I will never be able to do such a daring deed, has calmed me down somewhat.
But one doesn`t have to sing loud Italian songs in order to get noticed on the Northern Peninsula as slightly eccentric. Take my silk scarf, for instance. The locals don`t call it silk scarf. They call it bandana. BANDANA! I always thought that a bandana is a sweatband that tennis players wear around their forehead.
Anyway, I was told in no unclear terms that in Newfoundland, bandanas are some-thing that old women wore a long time ago. And that it would be appreciated if I did not wear a BANDANA because it looked odd. A neutral observer would call this incident a cultural misunder-standing, but I was quite muffed.
Another exchange left me puzzled, too. I was invited to Sunday dinner, and there were a lot of people, men, women, chil-dren in the living room and kitchen. The food was displayed as a buffet, and the guests and family members helped themselves to the goodies. When I had filled my plate, I was looking for a chair around the table. But to my great sur-prise and dismay, all chairs were occupied by men or male children. The women however had to sit on the sofa or on the carpet.
“Hey, guys,” I called out to the men, “are you aware that you took all the nice chairs away from us women?” The answer was chuckles and munching (they were busy eating). And that was it. One of the women took me to the side and explained to me that when the men used to fish, they would come home for a quick meal and then leave again, and then the women would eat. The men did not fish that particular Sunday. But at least I came to understand where the antiquated sitting order came from.
There can be a lot of misunderstandings when humans are from different cultures. Even pets can misread the behaviour of other animals. Take cats and dogs for instance. They have a different body language and misinterpret the signs of the other species easily. When a cat looks intently at you, then it is out of curiosity or observance. But to stare at a mutt is threatening to the dog, or at least he sees it as you trying to dominate him. A dog might interpret the cat`s stare as a challenge to him.
Or talk about tails. When a cat`s tail is darting back and forth, she is nervous or in a hunting mood or annoyed. But with a dog, of course, all of you know what a wagging tail means. When a cat`s tail is straight up, she is friendly and she invites contact. But for a dog, the upright tail is a sign of dominance (“I am the boss, don`t you mess with me”), and that is what he will see in the cat`s tail.
When a frightened cat arches its back and fluffs the fir, the dog might take it as a posture of aggression and not of fear. But cats and dogs in the same household can get used to each other if introduced to each other correctly. Generally, a cat is more territorial than a dog. However, the dog learns to perceive the cat as a bit weird but not vicious – and vice versa. They will grow to tolerate each other. And essentially, that is something that works for humans from different cultural backgrounds, too.
P.S. Maybe my dream was an idea for a Christmas float: a pink convertible. Without the loud singing, of course,
Photo Jennie Ward
