I think any American who has been abroad will tell you that other people don’t smile as much as we do. Not in the sense of being happy; but, as a way to acknowledge someone without actually speaking. The other day I walked by a classroom and saw a French teacher – whom I know – standing at the blackboard. I, of course instinctively smiled at him in an effort to not disrupt the class and at the same time say hello. He said “bonjour!”. I thought, well that wasn’t necessary. He could’ve just smiled and I would’ve interpreted that as “hello”. Then I thought, does he think I’m rude for not speaking and simply smiling?

Overall, Venezuelans do the same thing. When I walk past a parent at the kids’ school, they mostly say “hola” or “buenas”. No one simply smiles. At first I kept thinking how much easier it is to smile. But when you think about it, not really. A forced smile is very obvious. To make your smile count, you have to mean it. Plus, a smile can mean so many things. It can say “your child is adorable” or “that parent is being inappropriate, but what are you gonna do?”. I think I’ve actually had entire conversations with a smile. And because I’ve lived in a culture that encourages this sort of communication, it has become second nature.

Now that I’m not able to use it effectively, I’m sad. Even worse, how are my kids ever going to become experts in communicating without words? Words are great, but they can sometimes be overrated, no? You know this is one cultural norm that I’m not willing to give up as an expat – so, when they see the quiet, smiling lady they can go ahead and label me the crazy American!

One moment of patience may ward off great disaster.  One moment of impatience may ruin a whole life. ~Chinese Proverb

I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to write about this, but Venezuelans have an amazing ability to form and stand in line – otherwise known as the cola.The idea to finally write about this phenomenon came after I recently saw people standing in line to get on an elevator. Yes, an elevator. I saw about 10 people in the line and had to do a double-take to make sure that there wasn’t something being handed out. Every morning when I’m taking the kids to school, you can see lines 30 to 40 people deep waiting for buses. I’m always impressed by the patience Venezuelans show when waiting and it’s probably because they know that eventually, they’ll get their turn.

What’s so interesting about these colas is that often no one has to ask that they be formed. In the US, there are places you go that have signs indicating  where the line starts, as well as a roped off area to help make sure the line remains orderly – completely unnecessary here. I remember discussing this with a friend who is also a foreigner and she said it’s so ingrained that if she’s standing talking with more than one person, someone will inevitably come up and ask “aqui esta la cola?” or “is the line here?”. So, it’s as if it’s become an inherent part of the culture.

I noticed that my kids have started picking up on this, too. I couldn’t believe my eyes when my little guy (3 years-old) stood patiently in line for 20 minutes to have his face painted by Spiderman at a party. While I will probably never enjoy standing in line, I can appreciate that they’re being given this subtle lesson in patience…Lord knows their generation needs it.