Quote of the Day

“It is funny how the occasion imperceptibly changes, like the light, at an inconstant rate. At any given glance you may see that the dog has rolled over in his sleep, or the trees have lost their leaves. Morning drains inexpressibly into lunchtime, or Christmastime. Overhead the geese are migrating, just as they were the last time you looked. You wash the dishes, turn around, and it is summer again, or some other time, or time to go.”

~Annie Dillard, from the essay “Aces and Eights” in Teaching a Stone to Talk

Travel Tip Tuesdays: Dealing with Culture Shock on the Road

A friend recently asked me to write about culture shock. Although I’m not much of an expert on it, I have experienced it several times. The most memorable were these two instances:

1. A few years ago, when I volunteered on an organic farm for the first time— our host was a bit of a hippie and the volunteers were incredibly liberal. I realized that there were so many things I took for granted (e.g. humans should not try to make themselves extinct) that my friends there did not. 

"Why is everyone speaking German?"

2. Last summer, when I flew overseas— the Shelter Hostel in the Netherlands was much like other hostels I’d visited, but when poor planning left me a bit stranded in Hamburg, Germany, I freaked out. 

There have been several others of lesser degree— for instance, seeing for the first time the fallout of racism against Native Americans, or switching from the culture of Latter Day Saints to Irish Catholicism— but I’ve handled them gracefully and adjusted quickly. So, from both positive and negative experiences, I have a few suggestions.

In advance, make sure the logistics of your trip are confirmed and easy to follow. When the mechanics of a trip flow smoothly, you can focus more on the experiences instead of trying to process everything at once. (See my tips on trip-planning here and here.)

Do some homework. Learning about a culture before you get immersed in it is always helpful, whether it’s a foreign country or just a worldview you’ve never encountered. Also be sure to take stock of what you believe before you leave on a trip, particularly if you have strong views. Are you ready to see these views challenged and tested? Will you be willing to change your mind?

When immersed in a different culture, figure out a familiar place to take a break. This can be difficult/impossible in many places in the world, but you can do your best. Try a hostel, a historic spot with a lot of tourists, a city park, or a nature trail. Don’t make my mistake: in Germany, one of my loneliest moments was walking into a McDonald’s in search of Wi-Fi. It looked just like a McDonald’s back home, but everyone was still speaking German, so it felt really eerie, a mockery of familiarity. Walking in the Hirschwald Naturpark a few weeks later was much better.

Walking is also timed-tested Lisa stress relief.

Keep an open mind. “Open mind” is one of those phrases that makes me flinch, so let me clarify: you do not (nor should you) completely accept and be happy about everything you encounter. However, you shouldn’t completely dismiss something just because it’s new. I would’ve never discovered how much I liked hostels if I hadn’t given the first one a shot. I would’ve never had such great conversations with my farming friends in Washington if I had refused to associate with them because they smoked pot (even though I always passed the pipe without partaking).

Try to understand. Don’t give up if you don’t “get” a new culture right away. Accept it on its own terms, trying not to impose too many preconceived notions onto it. (See my blog on comparing.) 

Always look for the good. No matter where you are, and no matter how crazy things are around you, seek out the positive and the admirable. You don’t have to believe that something is true or even right— you can still see beauty in something, no matter how broken or strange you may find it.

Stay in touch with home. Call home and write letters when you can. Take along something that reminds you of home: a family photo, a bottle of lotion that you used every day at home, a sentimental item of clothing (but remember, nothing you would be too devastated about losing). Bring along a book and some music that you’ve liked for a long time. Don’t forget a Bible, or, if you’re not a Christian, a book that inspires you and reminds you of your worldview. 

Express yourself. Being in a foreign culture can be really stressful. I work through my thoughts through words, so I find that calling home and journalling are the two best ways to release any pent-up emotions or stresses. 

Allow yourself a little break-down. If you’re like me, even if you express your emotions a lot, they still manage to explode. If this is inevitable, then you need to learn how to make it a controlled explosion. Wait until you’re somewhere emotionally safe— a good hostel, with some friends, or an open stretch of road, for instance. Let it all out. Remind yourself it’s okay to be homesick. It’s okay to feel bad. When the explosion dies down, take some deep breaths, drink some tea (or, in my case, hot cocoa), return to what you were doing, and see this as a fresh start. 

Remember, it’ll be a great blog later.

Next week: Dealing with culture shock when you come home.

~~~

Telemarketers and the Golden Rule

In the past week, I’ve had a few conversations on separate occasions where the talk turned to an annoyance we all know well: a pushy seller, which can be anyone from a telemarketer to the Mormon on your doorstep. 

In these conversations, my friends and acquaintances naturally turned to telling stories about their experiences. I have my favorite, that I pull out of mothballs whenever I can: how, after trying to be polite to a person petitioning for Green Peace, I got frustrated and just yelled, “I hate all polar bears! Kill the whales!” before storming off. I thought it was a funny story. 

Other people in the group have more impressive stories. Freaking out the Jehovah’s Witnesses by talking about Satan. Making the telemarketer think she had just caused a marital dispute. Fabricating a heartbreaking story to get the bill collectors off your back. In each of these conversations, I’ve listened with a polite desire to laugh, but end up grimacing instead. I said that, with my phone phobia, getting chewed out on the phone is one of the worst things I can imagine happening to me. I snapped at some people to be nice to Mormon missionaries, since they are sacrificing a huge amount of time and money for their conviction. 

My response kills the mood, or at least wounds it. People become defensive, making excuses. “They called me, like, six times in one day.” “They shouldn’t be harassing people in front of stores anyway.” And on they go. I always feel uncomfortable, and I’m relieved when the conversation turns to other things.

A couple days ago, I was feeling upset about the common thread in these stories: the meanness. Pushy people are human beings, trying to feed their family, or trying to speak what they believe is the truth, or doing a job that they probably hate in order to meet the bills. They are all human, created in the image of God.

Thinking about it, I realized I wasn’t exempt: although I was being completely facetious with the Green Peace people, I still reacted in a mean way. I didn’t show them the love of Christ, not by a long shot. If I could find my way back to Coronado Island and apologize to them, I would.

Every once in a while— heck, what am I saying— all the time, we should be aware that people are people. That store clerk who won’t return your item is being terse because she’s worried that her daughter is getting bullied at school. The telemarketer is working a job he hates because he just lost a well-paying job and is scrambling to make ends meet. The Mormon on your doorstep is a young person far from home, dying to get a friendly response from at least one person today. 

I’m not saying we shouldn’t be firm. Saying, “No, thank you, I’m not interested,” and hanging up or walking on is often kinder than dragging yourself through a long presentation and losing your patience. I’m just saying that we should remember what our reaction to our fellow human beings should be. Take a moment. See that person as a person. Do unto others as you would have them do to you.

~~~

A few months ago, Zach and I were getting calls every day, sometimes twice a day, from our Internet service provider, Charter. They called from different numbers, sometimes local numbers, occasionally Portland numbers, often undisclosed numbers. If we didn’t pick up, they’d call about eight times a day and never left a message. Usually, Zach would answer, listen for about ten seconds, and then say politely, “Thank you, we’ll let you know if we’re interested. Goodbye,” and hang up. Sometimes he listened to the whole spiel and then politely declined the special offers and said goodbye.

On one such occasion, he listened to a Charter woman’s entire speech, responding politely and appropriately while still assuring them that we have no need of cable TV.

At the end of her speech, the woman finished in her pre-programmed-sounding voice, “Thank you very much sir, it has been a pleasure talking to you.”

“You’re welcome,” Zach said. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you, too.”

There was a pause. Then the woman laughed a little and said, in a tone quite more relaxed than her telemarketing voice, “You’re so sweet.”

I guarantee you she hung up with a smile.

~~~

Mountains in early spring, northern Utah

Happy

Today I feel better than I’ve felt in several days, not by virtue of sleep or good eating habits, but seemingly just because. After feeling melancholy for a week, a day of simple quiet happiness is pretty awesome.

I ate pizza for breakfast (homemade with my mom’s delicious crust recipe), took a walk with Zachary and sweated profusely, earned back the calories I’d burned by eating pierogies, listened to Zachary read half a chapter of Lord of the Rings, packed him a supper and kissed him goodbye, read my Bible (1 Samuel, the change of Israel from being ruled by judges to being ruled by a king, if you’re curious), then washed dishes while singing old hymns and brainstorming blog ideas. Tonight I get to hang out with one of my best friends and watch a movie.

Happiness doesn’t often last long, but I’m grateful for it when it’s here.

~~~

Scenes from the Inter Island Ferry, San Juan Islands, Washington

On my first solo trip, I took a break from my time in Bellingham to stay at a hostel at Friday Harbor on San Juan Island (it was a cozy hostel and I made many friends there, but, sadly, it shut down a few years ago). I took a lovely ferry ride over— and this soon became my favorite way to travel around the sound.

During my week on San Juan Island, I soon learned that there was an inter island ferry that ran between the four largest islands of the group: San Juan, Orcas, Shaw, and Lopez. And what’s more, the inter island ferry was free. (This is unfortunately no longer the case— as with the other ferries, you can ride one direction for free, but have to pay on your way back.)

Many times that week, I took my laptop, boarded the ferry and sat down at one of the tables, working on my editing for a few hours. Every time I looked up, I saw a new vista before me. At intervals I’d stand up, stretch, wander out onto the open bow, taste some sea air, stroll back inside, work on a puzzle for a while, and then return to my editing. If I could choose anywhere in the world to edit student papers the rest of my life, the San Juan inter island ferry would be it.

I think I’ll be posting more about the San Juan Islands in upcoming weeks. I’ve been missing them lately, and maybe telling you stories about them will help.

He Didn't Know What to Say, So He Played the Ophicleide

The past few days, every time I’ve sat down to write a blog, I can’t think of anything to say. There’s a lot to journal about. There’s a lot of raw emotion and jumbled thoughts I could vomit out. But when I write a blog, I try to make it something worth reading, not just therapy for me.

I don’t know what to say again today, so I’m posting a drawing of an ophicleidist. I feel like there’s a sweet story buried in this picture somewhere…

1939 Bridge, Bellingham, Washington

Housewife Project of the Week

Home decor is something I admire, but not something I’m naturally good at. I look at the way somebody else has put a space together, and I ooh and aah and envy. But doing it myself is a laborious task, and it often ends up looking forced. (Incidentally, I generally find fashion to be the same way.)

Still, it’s fun to try to decorate shelves. Here, nothing has to be functional— it can just be interesting to look at.

Rooting through my stash of random stuff, I found a vintage map I had salvaged from my grandparents’ house many years ago. In this depiction of “The Far East” from National Geographic, 1952, Korea is one country, Bangladesh is labeled “Pakistan,” and the country on top is listed as “Russian Soviet Federated Socialist Republic.” I pinned this to a bulletin board, added some random feathers (in a Balsamic Vinegar bottle I’m pretty sure is from the 80s), a framed photo from the Redwoods National Forest, a candle, and a wooden knickknack holder that my great-grandfather carved. Voila, it sort of looks like I have a style!

It took me a long time to arrange, and I fussed with it quite a bit, but I had a lot of fun doing it. Maybe, shelf by shelf, I can transform my house before we have to pack it all up and hit the trail.

~~~

100-Word Memoir: Surreptitious

The year after I graduated high school, I returned one day to visit a few friends who still attended my old fine arts school once a week. After sitting in on orchestra and making an appearance at choir, I slipped into the drama class and perched on a chair along the back wall.

One of my friends saw me and yelled my name. “Shh!” I said, putting my finger to my lips in exaggerated sneakiness. “I’m trying to be surreptitious.”

My old drama teacher, halfway across the room, loudly commented, “You can’t be surreptitious when you use words like ‘surreptitious.’”

~~~