Sitting in my home away from home, the coffee shop (more of a restaurant) and taking time to process all that has happened in the past twenty-four hours. From revealing texts to confrontations, from dinnertime conversations to office meetings, from walking to running, from being settled to becoming unsettled, from home to this coffee shop.
Cultural barriers, cultural bridges, and cultural differences – these are terms we discuss, we define, and we speculate about. Then something happens and we realize we have reached a cultural barrier, are finding it difficult to cross over, to create a cultural bridge, and so we turn around or stand still. Or something happens that makes you wonder if it’s simply a difference in language, in the way we express emotions, and then you realize someone has fallen for you and it’s too late to wonder.
Until I was sitting in class on Monday morning I didn’t understand that what I was experiencing was a cultural barrier. As soon as we began discussing it, I realized that this was happening to me. We think we can do everything and then when we realize we can’t we think something is wrong with us, wrong with part of the system, or just plain wrong. But part of being here is understanding that there will be moments when we have to build our own bridges, find our own way out of difficult situations, and accept the cultural differences that exist and how they affect each of us.
I am experiencing this with teaching in the nursery. Last week I was put into one of the classrooms with the eight students that were there. The teacher decided to leave me with them because she wants to get to know me and respect me. What next? I’m not sure.
How do you teach a one-year-old and a five-year-old at the same time? My mom didn’t need to point out to me that this was impossible, I already knew. But the thing is, it has to be possible because I have to do it. I have to find a way. And there isn’t an easy way. A one-year-old sitting in a desk, a three-year-old getting caned, a classroom without playthings – these aren’t things we normally see in the U.S. I have wondered whether I can put together some form of donation project for bringing things to the nursery but I am still debating what to do, suggestions?
This was only my second experience in the nursery and it’s for exactly the reason I discussed above. After the first time that I was there I couldn’t make myself go back. Until I ran into one of the teachers and she asked me when I was coming back, I hadn’t wanted to think about it. I had felt at such a loss the last time that I was there that I didn’t want to have to do it again. But I pulled myself together, as best I could, and headed back. It wasn’t any easier. And I don’t expect that it will but while I am here I am determined to cross this cultural barrier, to break this wall I feel I am standing in front of. Tomorrow I think I’ll try and teach body parts, we’ll see how that goes.
On another note, I like to share things. I know that about myself and I also know that sometimes it can get me in trouble, like yesterday when I was suddenly faced with a decision in which I was either going to work out things at my homestay alone or potentially end up moving onto campus. I chose to go at it alone. I have been saying since day one how important I think it is to tell your host family when something is making you uncomfortable or when you don’t like something. And I have mostly stuck to this by letting Grandma know when I don’t like certain foods but this time was different, I suddenly understood how it could be hard to speak up. However, I think I will still be sticking by the thought that it is better to say something, until I am proven wrong, and this time I haven’t been.
So I am here. This is my time right now to put back into perspective where I am. To take a moment to share, to be able to move forward having processed the past few days, and to be able to understand that although I will always be an “obruni” I am also “claire” and that means something.
No comments:
Post a Comment