Something Americans take for granted? Answering machines.
My mobile phone provider, a fancy French company called "Orange," allows subscribers the option of switching voicemail on or off. Once I discovered this, I enthusiastically turned mine on. One of my pet peeves is people who call and call and call -- but don't leave a message, especially if it's an unknown number. That was two months ago. What have I learned in the mean time? I might as well get used to it. Not a single person has left me a message.
Armenians (and not just Armenians, but lots of other people in lots of other countries where there is high mobile phone saturation) don't use voicemail. They'll just keep calling and calling and calling until you answer, oblivious to the fact that a) maybe you're busy and can't be disturbed or b) forgot your phone.
The same goes for wrong numbers. Several times a week people call our landline looking for someone who does not live here. At the beginning, Nick and I tried to be accommodating, answering with a Russian "allo" instead of a nasal American "hello." Now, I just try to sound as American as I can. If the called doesn't switch to Russian or English, I know it's a wrong number and I'll tell them so in Russian. But that often just leads to several minutes of confused conversation: "How can that be? Don't you live at the apartment building by the bank?" "Yes, but Armen doesn't live here." "Where did he go? When?" "I have no idea." "How can that be?" "I don't know." "Hmmm. Well, can you tell him I called?" "No. I dont know him." "I don't understand." And finally I just have to hang up.
Some of this phone culture - the indignation at wrong numbers, for example - is because during the Soviet Union, two things happened. First, people didn't really move around much. Second, it wasn't entirely uncommon for lines to be split and shared between neighbors, or for it take several attempts before a call went through. Perseverance was key.
Apparently, old habits die hard.
My mobile phone provider, a fancy French company called "Orange," allows subscribers the option of switching voicemail on or off. Once I discovered this, I enthusiastically turned mine on. One of my pet peeves is people who call and call and call -- but don't leave a message, especially if it's an unknown number. That was two months ago. What have I learned in the mean time? I might as well get used to it. Not a single person has left me a message.
Armenians (and not just Armenians, but lots of other people in lots of other countries where there is high mobile phone saturation) don't use voicemail. They'll just keep calling and calling and calling until you answer, oblivious to the fact that a) maybe you're busy and can't be disturbed or b) forgot your phone.
The same goes for wrong numbers. Several times a week people call our landline looking for someone who does not live here. At the beginning, Nick and I tried to be accommodating, answering with a Russian "allo" instead of a nasal American "hello." Now, I just try to sound as American as I can. If the called doesn't switch to Russian or English, I know it's a wrong number and I'll tell them so in Russian. But that often just leads to several minutes of confused conversation: "How can that be? Don't you live at the apartment building by the bank?" "Yes, but Armen doesn't live here." "Where did he go? When?" "I have no idea." "How can that be?" "I don't know." "Hmmm. Well, can you tell him I called?" "No. I dont know him." "I don't understand." And finally I just have to hang up.
Some of this phone culture - the indignation at wrong numbers, for example - is because during the Soviet Union, two things happened. First, people didn't really move around much. Second, it wasn't entirely uncommon for lines to be split and shared between neighbors, or for it take several attempts before a call went through. Perseverance was key.
Apparently, old habits die hard.
No comments:
Post a Comment