ATLANTA-
The cooling breeze of a Southern thunderstorm wafted in from the patio, where people sipped beer and iced tea. I had just filled my plate with fried catfish and yellow squash casserole and was lingering, undecided, over ribs at the buffet when the chef asked me how I was liking dinner–in German.
Talk about culture shock, especially since his catering service is called La Cazuela, Spanish for an all-purpose cooking pot. But then again, Nils Stein was born in East Germany, raised in Costa Rica, and was serving dinner that evening at the house of a German consular officer in Atlanta.
Much as I love traveling and experiencing new cultures, it's a great consolation to know that when I can't go the mountain, the mountain will come to me, even here in the Deep South.
Aside from the obvious hangouts like consulates and associations such as Alliance Francaise, Instituto de Mexico and the Goethe-Institut, in most cities across America you can always find clusters of expats eager to share their idiom and culture in two places–universities and restaurants/groceries.
Within a few miles north of downtown Atlanta, there's Father Mario, the sprightly Italian campus chaplain at Georgia Tech; the only U.S. reincarnation of Paris' iconic Au Pied de Cochon brasserie; and a Korean-owned Latin American superstore where Spanish-speaking cashiers hang pinatas and colored paper lanterns.
Global events like the World Cup that was played in June and July offer perhaps the best time to spot internationals–and to learn some words that one shouldn't know in any language.
The night of July 9, when Italy defeated France to win the cup, I had unexpected proof that most of us really enjoy sharing somebody's cultural pride, no matter how vicariously.
Sitting at a table with a dozen hoarsely celebrating Italians at a pizzeria on Atlanta's landmark Peachtree Street, I worried we'd scared away the American family that glanced at us with a suspicious smile when they left.
It was only after gorging on pizzas and imported beers that we discovered they had paid every cent of our bill. I don't know who they were, so I can only say: Grazie, and should we ever meet again overseas, fried chicken with okra and iced tea are on me.
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Alliance Francaise:
Goethe-Institut:
