Three lives in three countries: Spain, Senegal and Chile. Look back at my chronicles of crazy adventure, introspection, love and confusion. It's just the journey of a young Californian gal who's getting a taste of the world, but it's also so much more...

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

A Rubber Ball Bouncing About Cultural Walls.

The difficulty of living within another culture is that I can't challenge the cultural norms the way I do back home. I can't poke at the culture, teasing it, bending it, warping it and testing out its limits. I can't throw myself against it like a rubber ball, just to test its elasticity and see how far it bounces me back. If I critique it, this must be done carefully so as not to offend. When those tale tell homophobic slang phrases ("¡Que maricón!") affront my basic principles, I must be careful in correcting them and pointing out their injustice. Said directly and sincerely, in the way I would call out these remarks in the states, I am liable to come across to a Chilean of Senegalese person as believing myself to be culturally superior, or –what is less offensive to the native but perhaps more frustrating for me- written off as an ignorant foreigner commenting on phenomenon that I just don’t understand. “That slang in the states might be homophobic, but our use of “maricón” is purely innocent; the fact that is means “stupid” really has nothing to do with gay people!” And who am I to say; I’m just an outsider.

My body may be working within this culture, but my mind is unavoidably working from without; given this distance, I must work to respect the culture, learn from it, learn of it, and come to understand it as best as I can. At the same time, I must be moldable within it, adjusting my behaviors and expectations in order to get along, but without compromising my integrity and values. And that is my constant journey: cultural adaptation. But it makes me relish that pushy, punchy relationship I have with my own beloved, imperfect culture. In Norcal, I can disregard a few formalities, shrugging them off as superfluous or rejecting them as unjust or discriminatory. I can learn of the expectations my society has for my appearance and then grin and enjoy my shaven head –because I know exactly how these atypical experiences are nurturing my own growth. But it is exactly that: take the time to learn and then consciously step away from norms and towards freedom.

Here, in a way I’m a perpetual child –albeit a very rational, independent one- who has to relearn how to use the toilet and the best way to navigate social situations. I’m constantly on the brink between social faux pas and smooth interactions. I don’t know how to light a Spanish stove or flush a Senegalese toilet (or at least I didn’t at one point), but I can bring great insight before a Chilean dinner table and effectively describe my lessons learned. But within all of this back and forth –child to adult, and back to toddlerhood again- I present the interesting perspective of one who doesn’t quite belong but simultaneously fits perfectly into the puzzle; I have my role as the foreigner, the adoptive daughter, the climbing friend, and the Chinese student, y cabo aquí. I fit here, although I may have not in Senegal, and I contribute in lovely ways, perhaps giving back in infinitesimal part of the infinite generosity that I receive. But, as I say, I’m always “handling with care” and making euphemisms of my hearty critiques, whereas I can dive straight to the heart of matters in the states. But therein may lie another cultural difference in itself; we Americans are quite blunt and don’t often soften our words with so many flourishing formalities as the Senegalese or tiptoeing hesitancies as the Chileans.

It is wonderful to know and love a host of cultures, but after all is said and done, it is quite delightful to go back to breaking the mold in that good-old comfy culture back home, knowing exactly what you are commenting on and loving the choices that come of truly knowing your own culture. In order for this little rubber ball to appreciate bouncing about our American cultural walls, it had to learn to become still and observant within other cultural spaces, wriggling into new positions that might have proved awkward but usually provided interesting insights into the many ways that we of this world communicate -and the assumptions that underlie those utterances and gestures.

2 comments:

  1. You could ask an insider who is of that group. What does a homosexual in Chile have to say about the term?

    Mom

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  2. oh, it is definitely derogatory. However, just as people in the states who say,"That's so gay" are in denial about the harmful effects of that usage of the word, some Chileans do not recognize how their language can hurt others. Besides, this culture is very homophobic. Perhaps not so much as Senegal or, say, Saudi Arabia, but they've still got this deep-seated fear and extensive set of negative stereotypes for the gay population.

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