Everyone says that one of the biggest things you deal with when you go abroad for any reason (studying, business, pleasure, all of the above, etc.) besides jet lag is culture shock. I’ve been lucky enough to travel more than most people in my 20 years of life (and a half, as of yesterday), but for all of those abroad adventures, I’ve had someone holding my hand through every aspect of the excursion. Preparation. Education. Packing. What to say. What not to say. When to do this. What to NEVER do. Now that I’m working with a very different program in my preparation for studying abroad, I’ve realized that People to People Student Ambassador Programs spoiled me to no end (FYI, I traveled on three trips with the program, twice in middle school, once in high school). P2P as we lovingly call it had us hold monthly meetings throughout the school year before our trips (we did our traveling in the summer) in order to allow us to get to know the other students in our delegations, get us to watch videos that taught us about the program (started by Dwight D. Eisenhower, and yes, we like Ike) and how to pack, and do activities that helped us learn about the places we were going to visit. They even issued books for us that taught us little nuances about the places we were going, including famous recipes from our destinations (Pavlova from Australia, Yakisoba from Japan, etc.). We knew that you never called your fanny pack a fanny pack in Australia (“fanny” would be the American slang equivalent to the “c” word there), and we knew that you waited until THE last possible moment to give your Japanese host family a present because they’d try to give one back if you gave it too early (I got into a present war with mine on purpose, but that’s another post). Once the “trip” started, we all traveled together, same area of the plane, same bus the whole trip, same people, same groups… It was easy.
One of the things that P2P DIDN’T prepare me so well for was REVERSE culture shock. I spent two weeks in Japan with P2P in high school. One of the things that made that trip very different from the other two was the level of cultural immersion. I went to Australia for one trip (no language barrier, very few cultural differences), and the other trip was a three week trek through four different European countries with three language shifts. It was the most time I’d spent “marinading” in a singular language and a singular culture. If you’ve never been to Japan for all that long, here’s a couple things I noticed right away… they eat fish and rice at just about every meal. I loved that. If there is a “fat” person in Japan, nine times out of ten, that person is either a foreigner or a sumo wrestler. I distinctly remember seeing ONE “fat” Japanese person the entire time I was there. You also have to understand that I’ve got a great ear for language. I’m also remarkably humble. By the end of the trip, people liked being in my “group” for shopping, because I seemed to know the things to say to get the shopkeepers to help us find things we wanted. I had stopped putting my phrase book in my purse by the end of the first week. One of the things we had learned in Japan was that you started a meal saying “itadakimasu” which means “let’s eat” or “let me start.” You ended a meal saying “gochisoosama deshita” which means “That was delicious” in a formal manner (sans “deshita” it would be “normal”). Manners were very important. You bowed at the waist when you met someone, and you did it even when you were given someone’s business card, which you accepted with both hands, and made a point of reading before putting it in your wallet (not your pocket). To say “excuse me,” you say “sumimasen.” “I’m sorry” is “gomenasai.” When you don’t speak Japanese, you’re in Japan, and you keep messing things up, gomenasai comes out of your mouth about every 30 seconds…
When our plane landed back in the USA, I grabbed my luggage, and went out into the area of the airport where our parents were waiting for us. I ran up to my Mom, hugged her and said “OKASAN! (Japanese for “mother”)” First thought, “Okay. Wrong. I’m hugging a 5’8″ white woman who speaks English and maybe snatches of German that she might still remember from high school. This is out of place.” Once we got out of the airport, she took me to Togo’s for lunch (this was before I had been diagnosed, so I could still eat sandwiches). I knew something was off when I walked inside. My first thought when I got my sandwich, sat down, and looked around was that everyone in the restaurant was a sumo wrestler. The “reinsertion” into American culture didn’t get much easier after that. Shortly after I had returned home, my friend Lindsay had invited me over to eat dinner with her family, and I swear I will remember this until the day I die… We were all sitting around her dining room table (me, Lindsay, both of her parents, and all three of her siblings), serving ourselves pizza, and I blurted out “itadakimasu,” then started eating like nothing was wrong. Her entire family was staring at me like I was crazy. Even worse, I ended my meal, said “goshisoosama deshita,” got up from the table, threw my paper plate in the trash, and walked away, followed by the dumbfounded stares of Lindsay and her family. To my mother’s mildly horrified amusement, I would bump into people (accidentally) and say “sumimasen,” then started accepting wrapped fish from the fish counter at the grocery store with both hands and a bow for the next few weeks. To this day, whenever I say “Thank you” or “I’m sorry,” I bow a little, usually just as a nod of the head, but if I’ve done something “really bad,” the bow is slightly more profound. It’s noticeable enough that I’ve been picked on for it a little. It’s a quirk. Some people close their eyes tightly when they recite something. Others tap their foot in a rhythm to remember patterns. I… bow.
At any rate. You might be thinking, “So you picked up Japanese habits. How does this relate to culture shock and France?” Culture shock wasn’t in anyone’s vocabulary if you were a P2P Student Ambassador. You understood just about everything necessary for survival no matter where you were going. I obviously do not have such a luxury this time… For not having culture essentially handed to me to prepare me for my escapade in a foreign country, I’m doing a wonderful job finding it on my own. I’ve been working on adding things to my inspiration page here, most of which I’ve found through the Twitter accounts I’ve mentioned there on the first EDIT to the post (circa 11 juin). I now know that the whole American idea of “I don’t eat anything green” does not fly in France. Not a problem for me, I try everything so long as I’m certain I’m not going to make myself sick (and not in a Lamb Vindaloo too spicy way). This worried me initially because “I don’t eat anything made with gluten.” Thankfully, because I wear a Medic Alert bracelet, I’ve been formally diagnosed, and I’M ACTUALLY SICK AND NOT JUST PICKY, I will be heard. Hopefully. Another shift: in America, the customer is king. I have sent a meal back to the kitchen before because it had been prepared with gluten, when I specifically said that I couldn’t eat it. Oddly enough, that was in a McDonald’s. I politely told the manager the problem. He apologized to me, then told the fry cook while I was in earshot. Then this interaction happened…
Dis-moi ce que tu manges, je te dirai ce que tu es. –Anthelme Brillat-Savarin
