GM 18 September, Life in a Bricolage Collage.

“Bricolage: Little pieces, together, in an assemblage. Bric-a-brac” (Prof. Casey, class lecture 9/18/07). Doesn’t this term, bricolage, define our culture, our way of life, in Orlando, Central Florida, and most of Florida as a whole? Notwithstanding the institutions of tourism, Walt Disney World, Epcot, and the other attractions, just go out for dinner in any one of our local eating establishments and you’ll witness bricolage in action. A small, family owned Mexican restaurant that my wife and I frequent often is a good example.
Off the proverbial “beaten path,” the restaurant, on any given Friday or Saturday night, reminds me of a scene from the movie Casablanca starring Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Peter Lorrie, Sidney Greenstreet, and Claude Raines. I don’t mean just the customers either. The employees represent the gambit of the United Nations. Young men and women mainly, twenty to thirty years old, these young people originally came from countries all over South and Central America and from Eastern Europe to Central America. Even the five piece mariachi band, which includes one woman, represents three countries in Central America and two in South America. The restaurant’s clientele is any more diverse, representing countries from all over the world and parts of Alabama. This probably doesn’t sound all that amazing to you, but keep in mind that this is just one little, locally owned Mexican restaurant, located in a local neighborhood, in Kissimmee, Florida. But this, a diverse work force and clientele base, of course, isn’t limited to just Florida.
This past March, I had the opportunity to travel to Paris and London, and, without going into a great deal of detail, since, both of these cities represent hundreds and even thousands of years of international diversity and commerce, I would like to mention just one or two items that add credence to the definition of bricolage. While in Paris, I strongly doubt that I met anyone who I would consider to be a stereotypical Parisian (the definition of a stereotypical Parisian I’ll save for a future writing; although, I will state it’s a very good thing). Rather, most Parisians I interacted with were all of recent, foreign descent. And, while walking up and down the Champs-Elysées on a beautiful Saturday evening, I had the pleasure of doing so with at least, in my estimation, one hundred thousand, plus, Japanese tourists. All of whom, who were spending more euros than me I might add. In London, the scene was similar but different at the same time.
Assembled together at the hotel I was staying at in Westminster, the hotel staff literally represented every country in Eastern Europe and the Balkans. Owned and operated by an Italian firm, the hotel seemingly employed college age men and women who all seemed very happy to be there. One very small, but equally important observation that I would like to point out and one which, I think, helps to bring the definition of bricolage “full circle” involves a young, polish bar tender. It seemed that he specialized in creating one hell of a mojito. He would create a work of art with every mojito, so mush so, that local Londoner’s (the hotel is located very close to The New Scotland Yard station), would flock in every afternoon for a little, Latin toddy. Cheers!