In every country in which I have been there is a least one cultural icon that is emblematic of that country.
• In the United States it is the single family car, the very embodiment of individual freedom of action;
• in the United Kingdom, one might argue that it is the Bobby–a police constable with a funny hat, the living representation of polite society, modern democracy, and the monarchical anachronism;
• in Switzerland it is certainly the extremely expensive and highly accurate timepiece–great efficiency at great cost and
• in France it is, of course, the Eiffel Tower: garish, empty, and unfinished (where the heck is the siding anyway?).
Like everything else in Uruguay, it’s cultural icon is understated and at first, not entirely obvious. But after living here for more than 14 months, I have come to the conclusion that the real emblem of day-to-day life in Uruguay is the little machine with the sign on it that says “retire un numero—take a number”. These little boxes are everywhere: banks, stores, restaurants, government offices, service counters–about the only place I haven’t seen them is in the bathroom.
A few weeks ago I was shopping in perhaps the largest furniture store in Montevideo. The store was filled with clerks and almost devoid of patrons. It was obvious that I was there to buy something, but no one came near me. I checked to make sure that my zipper was up and that I didn’t smell like an oversized crock of Limburger cheese. A quick glance in the mirror indicated that my fangs remained filed down and that my visage was no more intimidating than usual.
Despite that, I was being ignored.
Then it struck me, “retire un numero—take a number”! I asked Borko to go back to the entrance and get a number. Immediately he did so the polarity of my personality magnet was instantly changed from “repel” to “attract” and the sales clerks came swarming. In many restaurants you will experience a similar change of polarity when you put your menu down and close it.
The “take a number” box is Uruguay’s ubiquitous guardian of egalitarianism: it recognizes neither rich nor poor; neither prince nor pauper; neither busy nor indolent. Everyone takes a number and waits, and waits, and waits…
As vexing as this may be, it does remind us that time is paid out to us minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day; and regardless of our station in life, time is the one thing that we all get equally in daily measure…
So funny! And it’s true!!! I’m Uruguayan, I live in Montevideo and I can tell everybody that what we read here it’s completely true!!! Los uruguayos estamos acostumbrados a esperar. Una de las tantas cosas a cambiar!!!
Left by Dan on May 2nd, 2007
Divino was it David?
Left by Fish on June 9th, 2007