Name That Nationality

One of the travel games I play with myself is “name that nationality”.photo

People speaking animatedly with their hands? Italian. But that’s easy.

Two men who harassed me at the ATM. Roma, or gypsies.

Saw a woman give her friend on the train a “thumbs-up”. She didn’t say anything, but I thought, American. And sure enough I could see the name tag on her suitcase with an American zip code.

At the airport there are more than the usual number of nationalities to choose from, but I had to smile at the fellow in front of me at Charles de Gaulle airport.

Hair in a ponytail. Yellow scarf. Chic glasses. Louis Vuitton backpack. And the piece de resistance: a perfectly behaved little Pomeranian.

French, of course.

I’m going to miss this place.

About Karen Ray

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