Anger and Culture

However, in South American or Mediterranean countries, it’s all part of the temperament – when you’re angry, you shout at someone. The other person just shouts back – no hard feelings.

What we, westerners, perceive as a fight, to them is just a matter of a difference of opinion.

A shocking experience

One day, as Dutch nurse Henny worked along side her Israeli colleague, the woman began to vent her frustration and anger at Henny.

Too shocked to react, Henny kept silent.

For three miserable days she nursed her grudge and licked her wounded feelings.

Finally she decided to confront her colleague.

“What are you talking about?” The woman couldn’t even remember what had happened.

Henny enlightened her.

“Oh, that! Of course I was mad at you. So what? I vented my frustrations; that’s all. You took it personally? Are you crazy? I wondered if you were feeling well, you’ve been rather quiet these last days.”

Henny then realized that, if she were to survive, she had to speak her mind as well.

In time she learned to adjust, and noticed it was great to vent her frustration, clear the air and have it out of her system.

Angry in a different language

When we moved to Israel from Holland, this was something we too had to learn. People always perceived us as being so “nice”. One day I told my neighbour that my Hebrew was good enough to use while angry, she congratulated me – I was getting there.

Anger that backfires

However, this same behavior had to be “suppressed” during a visit to Holland. Venting frustrations on a stranger could backfire, resulting in a knife in my stomach.

Restraint that paid off

I needed the referral-form; otherwise the medical test couldn’t take place. It was the third time that morning I tried to get it from the health fund. Although they promised, it wasn’t there. They messed up. Again.

Another time I might have shouted, but this time God gave me the grace to stay polite and understanding.

At the end of the day I did get my form. By then the clerk realized she could have given it on the first try…

A few months later, I had to visit the health fund again.

The clerk remembered me and went out of her way to help me get what I needed. My earlier quiet, polite, and understanding behavior then had made such an impression on her, that I now reaped the benefits.

I like the story Frances Mayes shares in her book “Under the Tuscan Sun”.

She flew in from the States and was on her way home in Tuscany. The ordered taxi arrived and she had just settled in, when a second taxi drove up. The driver began to shout and point and she realized she wasn’t supposed to be in this one. The other driver banged on the door and shouted he was having lunch, and he needed to make a living too. Francis was afraid the man was about to foam at the mouth, and told them to stop it, she would swap taxis. Her driver slammed on the brakes, jerked her bags out and she sat down in the second taxi. Both drivers faced off each other, talking at once, jowls and fists shaking. Abruptly they came to terms, shook hands and smiled. The first taxi driver smiled at Francis and wished her a good trip.

It’s wonderful to know people still can get mad at each other without committing a murder. It just depends which country you’re living.