I’d been overseas a few times in the past, and I was prepared for the usual hardships: not recognizing anything on the menus (or on the plates); perfecting Charades when communicating with shop owners; trying to remember what size shoe I wear in European sizes … But I wasn’t sure what to expect on the trade show floor, so I had plenty of questions. Would my boss really send me to a show where I couldn’t read the brochures or talk to the people in the booths? Would anyone have time to talk to a lowly editor from the USA? Would the Italian women scoff at my comfortable shoes? Would my brother’s Italian roommate get sick of me asking for translations?
My anxiety vanished, even before the jet lag subsided, once I reached the beautiful FieraMilano exhibition center in Rho. It was true, there were a small number of booths at the trade show where I could only exchange a smile and a shrug with the person pacing within. For the most part, however, it was fascinating to speak to people—even people I’d spoken to at recent American shows—about their products within the context of an international setting. I hadn’t thought before about the increasing popularity of solar glass in Europe, where astronomical fuel prices put our record highs to shame. Or considered how a piece of equipment designed for shower door notching could be adapted for more utilitarian functions (am I the only person who has never seen a shower door, much less a shower curtain, in Europe?).
And I couldn’t help but marvel at the size of the booths. To answer my earlier question – due to the large size of the booths, I was perfectly content with my ugly, yet comfortable, walking shoes. The mammoth pieces of equipment made the big booth sizes mandatory, of course. But for someone who has yet to step into a manufacturing facility, it was fascinating to wander within the confines of a company’s booth and watch one individual and then another set a line of equipment in action.
As I became used to the large booths, I started noticing other details—like the food. In the past I’ve appreciated the bowls of Snicker bars and the like often on display at trade shows in the States. But I’ve never been to a show where the wine comes out first thing in the morning alongside the plates of cheese, meat, olives, sculpted confectionaries and other amazing sights. As these goodies might suggest, even when company executives didn’t have a moment to spare for questions, this sense of hospitality kept attendees content to wait and socialize with their peers until a free moment arose.
Another of the many important details I took away from my trip was that the pocket-size Italian-to-English dictionaries leave out some critical translations. Luckily, I have a plan to fix that. I’m hoping to get your help in preparing for the next Vitrum, October 28-31, 2009, with my very own Glass Industry Italian to English Dictionary. It will be filled with such useful words and phrases as:
Vetro = Glass
Stato dell’arte = State-of-the-art
Fotovoltaico = Photovoltaic
Padiglione = Pavilion
Uscita = Exit
Permesso = You’re walking too slowly on the moving walkway
Espresso = My tongue doesn’t feel hairy this morning, do you have anything to drink?
And many more. For our overseas readers, please leave me a comment with the useful words and phrases you wish these slow Americans visitors would finally learn (or a comment defending your espresso). For my North American friends (and I saw at least a handful of you at the show), what invaluable words did you pick up on the trade show floor? Send in your suggestions - and just wait and see if they don’t show up in our Vitrum 2009 Preview.
In the meantime, keep an eye out for the November 2007 USGlass and the (more technical) review of this year’s show.
Oops, one last thing. As you might expect, I did make the most of every available sightseeing opportunity while in Milan. But even when wandering through the city, I couldn’t help but think about Italian glass. Check out this captivating view of the famous Galleria shopping mall in Milan:
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