Culture Shock= Yours, Mine and Ours
4 de Julio, 2006
July 4, 2006
I now know there is more than one kind of culture shock. There is the kind you expect, like when you travel to a foreign country where you don´t speak the language. You rather expect to be if not shocked, at least vigorously surprised. But when you come face to face with aspects of your own culture that leave you in a state of open mouthed surprise, that is not so expected.
When we arrived at school this morning, the directress, who is Costa Rican, reminded us that it was the 4th of July and she was having a little party after class. Somehow this date had totally escaped most of us. It was a very kind gesture and we cooked some hot dogs on the electric skillet in the garden behind the school and poured some Central American potato chips made from yucca in a bowl. But the best part of the party was the six bags of ice for the Cokes. I´m surprised to find that I had an unrecognized love affair with ice. I was so happy to see the hielo, that I took one of the left over bags home rather than see it dribble away, melting in the sink. All in all, no one really seemed to feel any patriotic fevor, but I didn´t take a poll. American politics in Central America are kind of a touchy subject.
A few days ago, the directors, who are an American husband and a Costa Rican wife, took us all to a dance place up in the mountains. The band was a local salsa band. The Tican musicans were dressed like any college student you would see in the US´ñ jeans, ball caps, T shirts, but they really cooked in Spanish salsa. Eveyone was trying to find out if they had a CD, but we were told that they were just a little local group, and by the way, we each owed the band 3,000 colones. Since this was the equivalent of a 6.00 cover charge, it seemed reasonable, if somewhat surprising that the bill for it came at the end of the evening while the band was packing up their instruments. But I´m getting side tracked.
The point of this is that all our teenagers arrrived dressed up to go out. They all looked beautiful, young, energetic and charismatic, even the young ones. We arrived at the bar and in minutes of the band starting up, they were all on the dance floor. And boy could they dance.
They shimmied, they got down, they shook their booties. They got up on the stage and dared to do it even faster.
. A couple of the 18 year olds ordered flaming drinks at the bar and set their eyelashes on fire.
What´s a chaperone to do? I never felt so in need of my friends, so out of touch, so well, old. I wanted to shake my bootie, what there is of it. But it just wasn´t happening for me.
These kids are powerhouses of youth, of beauty, of sex appeal. Why did it all seem so worrisome?
So I tossed and turned all that night worrying about what kind of trouble might be coming our way. After all, when it was me up there on that stage, some years ago, trouble followed, just as night follows day.
I had no idea how quickly I would forget how teenagers scare you half to death by just being so young. Such a vigorous surprise.
July 4, 2006
I now know there is more than one kind of culture shock. There is the kind you expect, like when you travel to a foreign country where you don´t speak the language. You rather expect to be if not shocked, at least vigorously surprised. But when you come face to face with aspects of your own culture that leave you in a state of open mouthed surprise, that is not so expected.
When we arrived at school this morning, the directress, who is Costa Rican, reminded us that it was the 4th of July and she was having a little party after class. Somehow this date had totally escaped most of us. It was a very kind gesture and we cooked some hot dogs on the electric skillet in the garden behind the school and poured some Central American potato chips made from yucca in a bowl. But the best part of the party was the six bags of ice for the Cokes. I´m surprised to find that I had an unrecognized love affair with ice. I was so happy to see the hielo, that I took one of the left over bags home rather than see it dribble away, melting in the sink. All in all, no one really seemed to feel any patriotic fevor, but I didn´t take a poll. American politics in Central America are kind of a touchy subject.
A few days ago, the directors, who are an American husband and a Costa Rican wife, took us all to a dance place up in the mountains. The band was a local salsa band. The Tican musicans were dressed like any college student you would see in the US´ñ jeans, ball caps, T shirts, but they really cooked in Spanish salsa. Eveyone was trying to find out if they had a CD, but we were told that they were just a little local group, and by the way, we each owed the band 3,000 colones. Since this was the equivalent of a 6.00 cover charge, it seemed reasonable, if somewhat surprising that the bill for it came at the end of the evening while the band was packing up their instruments. But I´m getting side tracked.
The point of this is that all our teenagers arrrived dressed up to go out. They all looked beautiful, young, energetic and charismatic, even the young ones. We arrived at the bar and in minutes of the band starting up, they were all on the dance floor. And boy could they dance.
They shimmied, they got down, they shook their booties. They got up on the stage and dared to do it even faster.
. A couple of the 18 year olds ordered flaming drinks at the bar and set their eyelashes on fire.
What´s a chaperone to do? I never felt so in need of my friends, so out of touch, so well, old. I wanted to shake my bootie, what there is of it. But it just wasn´t happening for me.
These kids are powerhouses of youth, of beauty, of sex appeal. Why did it all seem so worrisome?
So I tossed and turned all that night worrying about what kind of trouble might be coming our way. After all, when it was me up there on that stage, some years ago, trouble followed, just as night follows day.
I had no idea how quickly I would forget how teenagers scare you half to death by just being so young. Such a vigorous surprise.
posted by Karen | 5:04 PM
1 Comments:
Karen, I am absolutely enjoying every word of your blog. I feel as though I am right there with you. keep up the good work. I am very proud of you.
sandi
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