Last weekend we did a little last-minute back-to-school shopping on a city break to Portland, OR. We stayed at the Embassy Suites at Washington Square. The Hilton hotel chain is a favorite of ours as it almost always offers rooms that can fit our group. And the large buffet breakfast, made-to-order omelets, and manager’s evening reception with free glasses of wine only sweeten the deal.
Traffic jam at the elevators
We stayed at the hotel two nights and our room was on the 6th floor. The “sixth floor” by American standards, which left me counting the floors from the open atrium as I looked up. The sixth floor was really only the fifth floor. I felt this strange sensation as if things suddenly no longer made sense. I pondered how I have come to count floors this way; my very sense making. In Europe, the ground floor is number 0. But in America it is the first floor. I realized that we only needed to climb five flights of stairs to reach the 6th floor. In Europe, it would have been six.
My daughter sat across the table arguing with my husband about whether or not the building had 8 or 9 floors. His argument was that he saw the number 9 in the elevator; but my daughter, looking up, counted the floors and came up with only 8. She was perplexed; why would the elevator stop on the 9th floor when there was clearly only 8 floors?!
Why did any of this matter to us in that moment? Well, you see, the hotel which claimed to have 9 floors, but we only counted 8, was served by just two elevators. It usually had three, but one looked like it had been out of commission for a while. So there always seemed to be a traffic jam at the elevators; no matter whether people were traveling up or down. There was always an impatient crowd gathered, waiting, and waiting, for an elevator.
Realizing the sixth floor in America was only five flights of stairs, was helpful. In Europe, it would have been six and the American interpretation offered a discount on the number of flights we would climb. But could we take credit for walking up six floors, when it was only five?
There's no room on this elevator, he says
My final morning at the hotel, it was particularly busy. People, dogs, and empty luggage carts were filling the elevator in both directions. Passing up an opportunity to get the elevator added at least another 10 minutes to the wait time. As we were debating stairs vs. elevator, the elevator stopped at our floor. All five of us got on; there seemed to be plenty of space. The other passengers groaned that the elevator was stopping at every floor. It continued down one floor and stopped. The doors opened and we stared out at those waiting, who sheepishly gazed in and pondered whether or not the elevator was full. I gestured them on – there was plenty of room (from my perspective). It continued down another floor, and the same happened. But before I could encourage folks join us on the journey downward, a man with lots of space around him announced to those who had been patiently waiting that they needed to continue waiting for the next elevator. “This elevator is full!” he declared, and the others obliged. I was a bit puzzled, and maybe it showed. He told me, the elevator is only supposed to carry 5 people. Now I was puzzled. This was a large commercial elevator — one of only two, for the entire hotel. There was no sign posted with a capacity limit. As far as I could tell, the elevator wasn’t even half full. We continued to stop at all the floors the whole way down, where people continued to be told that they had to wait because we were full.
I stepped off and told my family, “Only in America, was that elevator full.” At this rate, no wonder it was taking the elevator so long to move people. Apparently people were waiting for empty elevators. What a waste of time, space, and energy, I thought. As far as I am concerned, as long as people can squish in for a minute, it is not full. And in the case of this particular experience, no squishing was required. People just might have stood next to each other.
We have crammed our family of six into European subway car after subway car, just hoping I can avoid my face fitting into someone’s armpit. I have come to think it is almost impossible for any space to be too full to fit another body. We can always make room. But there must’ve been a time when I would have declared that elevator full. What has travel done to me?!
Elevator full? Depends on the country
This otherwise ordinary experience, seemed a bit humorous. I decided I would make it into a post. For fun, because not everything always has to be serious. Because sometimes culture clashes can be a bit humorous and a bit fun. Especially when something can have two meanings. In these moments one realizes how fluid our understanding really is, and I have to smile at the meanings we give things. Our experiences have the ability to take us from seeing a full elevator, to seeing the same elevator half empty. It can cause us to count floors differently. Initially, it made no sense to me that the first floor should be floor zero. But now, I can’t understand why it wouldn’t be floor zero.
I often hear you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Well, I beg to differ. Travel has taught me all sorts of new tricks! I am looking forward to more new perspectives.
