July 19, 2008
Cultural
Differences
Learning a new culture is hard enough. Learning
it while trying not to insult our host country families, well, it's just not
going to happen, no matter how hard we try. Today after language class, we had
lunch at the house of our teacher (moo-galeem). Her host mother prepared a
Korean salad and there were these teeny deep purple grapes that I found so
delicious, they were all I wanted to eat. So, when she brought my bowl of
borscht to the table, I let it sit. After my fifth helping of salad and grapes,
my language teacher told me her mother thought I didn't like her cooking
because I wasn't eating my borscht. She was insulted. How could I explain that
it wasn't my dislike of one dish (I actually like borscht.), but that I found
two others more to my liking? I thought that by eating as much of the salad as
I did, she'd be pleased. I could have eaten two spoonfuls of the soup and left
the rest, but that would have been wasteful. By not eating any of it, she could
have thrown it back in the pot. And it would have been really impolite to tell
her beforehand that I didn't want any soup. So, there I was, stuck in a
culturally sensitive situation with no good way out. I decided to tell her how
much I loved the salad and she proceeded to refill the dish, which meant I had
to eat more, even though I was stuffed (toi doom). And those grapes were the
sweetest I've ever tasted. Seriously. When I went into town this afternoon, I
bought some at the outdoor market (75 cents a pound. Stuff is pretty cheap here
by American standards, but maybe not compared to local incomes. More on that in
a later post.). Once home, the grapes lasted about ten minutes. It made me feel
good that I could treat the family since they don't let me lift a finger to do
anything around here. When I offer, they act like they don't hear me. I know my
Kyrgyz isn't very good, but I know they understand what I'm asking.
The
PC gives host families a nice chunk of change every month to house and feed the
trainees. For this reason I imagine the number of families interested in this
undertaking far exceeds the slots available. Becoming a host family may be
harder than becoming a volunteer. I don’t remember all of the requirements, but
I vaguely recall ticking boxes on a checklist that listed them. The one I remember
most vividly is that the volunteers’ rooms had to have a lock so family members
couldn’t just pop in whenever they wanted. Although I spent a lot of time with
my family, I needed privacy once in a while and the lock was the key to getting
it. (haha) Not being vigilant about locking my room could also mean the loss of
personal items.
In the book, I talk about how some volunteers wondered about the distribution of the money and the benefits of eating lunch as a trainee group.
