Another cultural difference concerns one's choice of seat in a taximeter cab. In certain lands when one hires a taximeter cab one is expected to take one's seat beside the chauffeur! It is a custom which has always horrified us - this idea of a cosy intimacy with one's driver. Very often these taximeter drivers will even attempt to engage one in general conversation. This can be educational upon occasion but one does not want it every day. The great problem though is that if - as we always do - one takes one's seat in the proper passenger compartment at the rear one's chauffeur will still - out of habit perhaps - attempt to carry on a conversation, continually twisting in the course of which his head right around, and back again, and around again, thus taking in the process his eyes off the road and exposing both passengers and himself to grave peril. Fortunately of course the London cabs are sensibly designed in such a way as to obviate the problem. And once we even encountered a lady chauffeur; what a strange experience that was!

A cultural difference I was reminded of in practice at 03:25 this morning is the E European tradition of a round of enthusiastic applause for the pilot on making a soft touchdown.  Although this strikes others as odd,  it's perhaps worth noting that a fully-occupied 737 can weight up to 56,200kg at the time of landing - and since the speed is equivalent to motorway driving,  no little element of skill is required to achieve a bumpless landing

Of course for a truly excellent landing the standing ovation would have to wait until everyone was allowed to take their seat belts off.

In Portugal surnames are not really used. The polite way of addressing a lady is Dona [insert Christian name]. I used this when I had to address time²'s mother and grandmother directly, although in conversation we spoke French (I called them vous and they called me vous).

I didn't have to talk to any men except ones of my own age, but I believe the address then would have been Senhor + Christian name.

And with that in mind - How To Go To An Opera Concert Performance At The Tchaikovsky Concert Hall, a la Russe (04.09.2008)

(I CAPULETTI I MONTECCHI - Bellini.  Patrizia Cioffi as Juliet).

# don't buy tickets - instead find a well-connected friend of a friend who teaches at the Conservatoire, who has coached the chorus, and has a supply of "entry tickets".
# an "entry ticket" (a true Cultural Difference) entitles you to enter a hall in which every seat may in fact be sold, and try to find anything you can get.  Alternatively you perch on the stairs.
# slip the barman £1 to provide you with three clean glasses.  From these you drink the Armenian cognac you've wisely brought yourself.  However, the smoked salmon sandwiches are a bargain at 50p each.
# hover near empty-looking seats - individual solo ones are the best bet.  We all found seats.  Taking a foreigner (viz Mr R Torheit) is of great use - saying "but our guest is a foreigner" induces hall staff to find seats held-back for VIP visitors who are known not to be coming.
# utilise the interval to network furiously. Some hand-kissing of Grande Dames may be required.  Bring plenty of business cards.  Aim to have at least one audition, lunch invitation, or meeting with a producer in the bag before the third bell.
# seat yourself in comfort in the second half, as at least 30% of the audience have gone home.
# don't rush to leave after the end, as the entire audience of 2600 is required to leave the building by one single doorway 

Are you saying, Reiner, that this kind of concert going is not normal?
It sound completely reasonable to me. After all what are friends for? (especially if they are foreign).
Also foreigners are special people and have to be treated differently.
Why is it not logical?
Of course there are foreigners and other foreigners. It is good if you come from country like yours.
In my time people with hard currency were treated differently, than people with social block currency. There were exclusive shops for this kind of people.
If one is used to standing on one's head it is difficult to go back to your feet.
I will tell you about my cultural shoke at a later time.
Believe me I have many (and many tears). I just have to think and remember.
Thanks for your post. It is the best medicine for some nostalgia that crips in some times.