It’s well known that there are cultural variations as far as allowing each other the appropriate amount of personal space is concerned.
I’ve spent most of my life in a ‘low-contact culture’ (the UK) where people supposedly feel uncomfortable if their personal space is invaded. As it happens I’m not much bothered by people coming close to me: I’m quite happy with proximity, and kisses and hugs are absolutely fine by me.
Since I now live in Spain this is a good thing because I’m apparently now in a ‘high-contact culture’ where ‘physical contact is common, and maintaining close proximity is a sign of friendliness and openness.’
But there’s another side to the personal space story - the way in which space is unwittingly occupied by the people around you. And this can be really annoying!
Here’s a rather beautiful and sensitive account of the way it works, from a young Irish man who has spent 18 months in Spain grappling with the issue of space occupation.
Every single non-Spanish person to whom I’ve shown this video instantly recognises the bewilderment: how on earth don’t they know they’re right in the middle of the pavement?! And most Spanish people clock it too …
(It’s also worth saying that once you’ve asked ‘¿puedo pasar?’ [can I get by?] the reaction is instantaneous - ‘Of course! No problem!’)
At the root of all this is a basic unawareness that bodies occupy space - and there’s nowhere I’ve found this more aggravating than in the swimming pool, doing lengths.
In the UK if you get to the end of a length and it’s obvious to the person in front of you that you’re quicker than them, they generally wave you through.
In Spain, you can spend an entire length nibbling the heels of the person ahead of you, reach the end of the length, and then see them stare you in the eyes before setting off once again at their habitual, regular and absolutely infuriating snail’s pace. It’s clear that the thought that they might let you through simply doesn’t cross their mind.
So what to do? If you can’t beat them, join them? Plonk myself in the superfast lane and hold everyone up?
I’m honestly not sure I could. Too much cultural baggage of my own for that. So at most it’s going to be a timid ‘¿puedo pasar?’ in the slow lane.
And even that may be beyond me. More likely I’ll be ploughing up and down the lengths, with the sound of clashing cultures ringing in my ears.
I’ve spent most of my life in a ‘low-contact culture’ (the UK) where people supposedly feel uncomfortable if their personal space is invaded. As it happens I’m not much bothered by people coming close to me: I’m quite happy with proximity, and kisses and hugs are absolutely fine by me.
Since I now live in Spain this is a good thing because I’m apparently now in a ‘high-contact culture’ where ‘physical contact is common, and maintaining close proximity is a sign of friendliness and openness.’
But there’s another side to the personal space story - the way in which space is unwittingly occupied by the people around you. And this can be really annoying!
Here’s a rather beautiful and sensitive account of the way it works, from a young Irish man who has spent 18 months in Spain grappling with the issue of space occupation.
Every single non-Spanish person to whom I’ve shown this video instantly recognises the bewilderment: how on earth don’t they know they’re right in the middle of the pavement?! And most Spanish people clock it too …
(It’s also worth saying that once you’ve asked ‘¿puedo pasar?’ [can I get by?] the reaction is instantaneous - ‘Of course! No problem!’)
At the root of all this is a basic unawareness that bodies occupy space - and there’s nowhere I’ve found this more aggravating than in the swimming pool, doing lengths.
In the UK if you get to the end of a length and it’s obvious to the person in front of you that you’re quicker than them, they generally wave you through.
In Spain, you can spend an entire length nibbling the heels of the person ahead of you, reach the end of the length, and then see them stare you in the eyes before setting off once again at their habitual, regular and absolutely infuriating snail’s pace. It’s clear that the thought that they might let you through simply doesn’t cross their mind.
So what to do? If you can’t beat them, join them? Plonk myself in the superfast lane and hold everyone up?
I’m honestly not sure I could. Too much cultural baggage of my own for that. So at most it’s going to be a timid ‘¿puedo pasar?’ in the slow lane.
And even that may be beyond me. More likely I’ll be ploughing up and down the lengths, with the sound of clashing cultures ringing in my ears.
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