CHAPTER 127

Original (Published in Evergreen News): 2010-02-02

Rewritten: 2026-02-06

In old-style hotels in Europe, elevators are very small. They are said to accommodate six people, but in reality can only fit two burly Americans hauling large suitcases.

I recall that a year and a half earlier, while visiting the Space Museum in Washington, D.C., we stopped to rest at a fast-food restaurant and saw countless tourists with enormous bodies. Men and women, young and old alike, each carried one or two trays piled with American “super-size” burgers, gigantic portions of fries, and ten-inch-tall cups of soda. It felt as if we had stepped into the land of giants.

What left the deepest impression was seeing those oversized baby faces, wearing childlike smiles — a huge head perched atop a body weighing well over two hundred pounds. The big boy looked only thirteen or fourteen years old. In front of him were his sister and mother, both sharing the same physique and aura.

Walking along the waterfront tourist district in downtown Baltimore, giants weighing three hundred pounds were everywhere. By comparison, residents of Vancouver would be considered medium or small-sized.

Europeans, relatively speaking, are much more slender, and there is no shortage of handsome and beautiful faces. With their diverse ethnic backgrounds, their facial features are indeed different from those in North America. Tall men are not common, and by North American standards they look somewhat slight. It is rare to see the muscle-bound, gym-crafted physiques so common across the Atlantic.

From my observations on French beaches, I made a new discovery: adult men, sunbathing alongside women of the same age, tend to maintain better-looking complexions. Much like drying squid — the larger the volume, the slower it dries.

With limited land, dense populations, narrow roads, and heavy traffic, Europe does not easily accommodate giants. They tend to have thick backs and wide waists, with flesh bulging at their sides so that their arms naturally jut outward when walking. Being lean and agile is simply more convenient. For a giant to squeeze into a compact car, or to mount one of those Italian “Vespa” scooters and keep balance while weaving along winding paths paved with tiny black stones, is no easy task.

Not only are the people more slender, but so are the food and drinks. Their appearance and volume are smaller than North American versions. Bottled soft drinks and boxed milk are no exception. With their elegant packaging, they even resemble works of art.

Canned beer, however, is an exception — its volume is often one-third to one-half larger. Germans drink beer more than they drink water; the cans themselves are proof. While dining on pizza at a Roman square, the tour guide explained that it was wood-fired, with a thin, crispy crust and seafood toppings. The portion was modest, lightly salted, and not cheap. The flavor was mild, yet lingering. After returning to Canada, my younger son developed a fondness for Roman-style pizza.

Venice was scorching hot. When our group arrived, the temperature had dropped back to the mid-thirties Celsius. The guide recommended gelato to cool off. Local gelato has a strong fruit flavor and many varieties, with less cream — more like yogurt in taste. I still prefer the richer, creamier kind.

People in the United States and Canada are blessed by nature, living in countries with vast space, abundant resources, and an emphasis on efficiency. They have grown accustomed to it. Meals are expected to be served quickly, in large portions and quantities, with bold, strong flavors.

This European trip was an eye-opener and brought with it a deeper understanding.