David J.

Pollay

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December 8, 2008

You Know What They Say About ‘Them’

The train was about to pull into the station, and I didn’t know where to go. It was 1986. I had never been to Paris. And I only had the address of my hotel. I needed help. But I was hesitant to ask for it.

I had heard from so many people before I left on my trip that the French were not very friendly, and that they did not particularly like Americans. One man had told me that, because he didn’t speak French, a Parisian waiter would not serve him. Another person said that a museum cashier yelled at him because he took too long to pay. And one woman told me that, in general, it was hard to get help when people found out that you were an American.

“They just don’t like us very much,” she said.

Well, it was my time to find out for myself. I needed directions. I had to reach out to someone.

So I took a deep breath, practiced the few French phrases I knew, and gently tapped the shoulder of a French-speaking man standing near me in the aisle.

“Bonjour,” I said.

He turned, and said, “Bonjour.”

I said in French, “Excuse me. My name is David. I do not speak French. Do you speak English?”

“Yes,” he responded in a heavy French accent. “I’m Francois.”

I told Francois that I was visiting Paris for the first time and I needed directions. He saw the map I was holding and asked for it. Francois spent the next five minutes marking my map. He then reviewed the directions, and handed the map to me. I thanked him, he smiled and wished me a good trip.

When I arrived at the station, I followed Francois’ directions. One-and-a-half hours later I arrived at the metro station near the hotel. I got off the train, stopped and looked at my map. The directions seemed to say that I should cross the plaza and turn down a narrow street.

So, I took off walking and traveled for about five minutes when I realized I had gone the wrong way. It was after 11 p.m., the street was dimly lit and I wasn’t sure where to go. I needed help once more.

But what were the chances I would find another friendly French person ready to assist me? Based on what so many people had said prior to my trip, I wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter. I was lost.

Just then a man turned the corner onto my street. When he was just a few steps away from me, I launched into my little French script.

“Good evening. Excuse me. My name is David. I do not speak French. Do you speak English?”

“A little,” he said.

I pointed to the address written on my map. The gentleman looked and said, “Ahh . . . OK.” He then glanced at his watch, turned to me and said, “I take you there.” And we turned around and went back toward the metro station.

As we walked, we did our best to communicate with the little common vocabulary we shared. We kept walking until we crossed the metro station plaza and traveled six more blocks until we arrived at the small hotel where I was staying.

Looking up at the address, he said, “Here.”

I said, “Merci beaucoup.”

He said, “Your welcome. Au revoir.”

And we shook hands.

Once again, someone had come to my aid in Paris.

And what about the rest of my stay? Everyone I met was friendly, respectful and kind. The French were as gracious as any people I had ever met. I had a wonderful time.

At the end of my trip I laughed at how nervous I was to ask for help the first night of my trip. I had let other people convince me that the French were always Garbage Trucks.

I realized how easy it can be for others to convince us that the people we do not know are perpetual Garbage Trucks. We hear people make negative assessments of others and, if we’re not careful, we accept their opinion as truth.

And this is wrong.

We should challenge people’s assertions before we accept their negative views as fact. It is never right, nor helpful, to say that one group of people are Garbage Trucks all the time.

We bring the world together when we get to know people ourselves, and let ungrounded and unbalanced judgments of others pass us by. We should commit to giving people the same chance that we would want others to give to us.

Last year Dawn and I took my little girls and my parents to Paris. The best part of the trip was when someone stopped and asked me for directions.

David J. Pollay’s book, Beware of Garbage Trucks!™, is due out this Fall. Mr. Pollay is the creator of The Law of the Garbage Truck™ (www.bewareofgarbagetrucks.com). He is a syndicated columnist with the North Star Writers Group, creator and host of The Happiness Answer™ DVD, and an internationally sought after speaker. Mr. Pollay is the founder and president of the personal coaching and seminar organization, The Momentum Project (www.themomentumproject.com).

© 2008 David J. Pollay. Distributed by North Star Writers Group. May not be republished without permission.

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