Another great moment in history

We seem to be getting swept up in one national event after another lately. Just days after voting in the US elections, we took a train ride to Paris and got to experience another national phenomenon: Chaos on the rails! Pretty much the entire French high-speed train system ground to a halt, with our 1 hour 20 minute dash to Paris taking 6 hours. And we were the lucky ones. Lots of trains just never left the station. If you haven't clicked to read the article, someone sabotaged the electric lines in four spots. They don't know who did it yet, but my guess is disgruntled rail workers, the French equivalent of our disgruntled postal workers--only less deadly.

One of the surprising things about the delays--we sat first for 2 hours, then for 90 minutes, then for 30, then for 2--was how patient everyone was. We heard very little grumbling, and most of that was wry humor about being on the high-speed train ha ha. People read, played cards or board games, yacked, or--when they let us get out--smoked. It probably helped that the bar car gave out drinks and snacks for free (until they ran out and closed up) and that the conductor walked through handing out forms to claim refunds. See, if your high-speed train arrives late you get reimbursed on a graduated scale until you get a future ticket free for being more than 2 hours late.

Now there's another interesting cultural observation. The train made up in Cologne, Germany, so there were, Germans, Belgians, and Frenchmen aboard. Those of us who live in Belgium or France will be issued a voucher for a free ticket. But the Germans want nothing to do with credit or promises; they deal in cash and get a cash refund.

And of course, this being Europe, the way you get the cash is to give the train company your bank number, and they deposit it directly. That's the way many transactions are done here. It involves a lot of trust. We've even bought stuff at expos and had the vendor give us her account number; we go home with the goods and make the transfer later.

Oh, and one more train anecdote. When the conductor gave me our claim form, he and I were speaking French, but he showed me the instructions in German and explained how I could get the Germans-only cash refund. He had looked at Rita and assumed we were German. This happens to her all the time. Part of it is our unplaceable foreign accents, but mostly she just looks German.