Culture Shock
Before I even attempted this project, I found myself reluctant to approach it. I've been thinking about it since the beginning of the quarter, and could never quite figure out what I wanted to do. More than that, I was dreading it a bit because I hate feeling awkward and looked at (something I will have to get used to). I kept putting it off, hoping for inspiration and the perfect solution. It never really came.
My friend Daisy finally came to the rescue. I was tossing around the idea of going to an Asian market and attempting to get ingredients for food. Daisy is Filipino and offered to teach me to make chicken Adobo. She knew exactly where I should go. It would be a two-part experience, because I would also get to eat the fruits of my labor. I can barely manage grocery shopping in stores I know like the back of my hand (I just wander around for 45 minutes), so shopping in a market where I don't speak the language sounded like a good challenge. So I was sent off with a list of ingredients. As I approached Boo Han Market, I was remembering all of the jokes that are told about Asian drivers in the U.S. I pulled in to observe a parking lot filled with SUV's, and for reasons I can't quite articulate, was very surprised. When I walked into the market my first thought was, "I've chosen something too easy." Everything had a translation, and I recognized the standard Coke products.
As I began to wander around I realized that this was not the case. I didn't find what I was looking for immediately, and I couldn't quite figure out how the store was organized. There seemed to be large quantities of dried vegetable matter (I recognized mushrooms and zucchini) in bags, but these were unlabeled and I wondered what they were used for. I recognized some of the brands that are carried at major food chains in the international food sections, but they all blended in with the less familiar ones.
In the back of my mind I found myself thinking, "Well, if I can't find what I need here I can always go to Safeway and just makeup the mix of spices myself." I was intentionally disconnecting from what I was supposed to be participating in! Even worse, the longer I wandered around and felt more uncomfortable the more I thought, "This is for class, it doesn't really count. I'm here by choice and I'm deliberately setting myself up to feel uncomfortable, so it's not really that bad." Even as I was attempting to engage in something foreign, I was feeding myself excuses to get myself out of the situation.
While I was there, I observed a big distinction between those who shopped there regularly and the people who were less familiar with the store. In talking to Daisy, she described feeling stupid going into this market looking for a particular spice and not being able to remember which one it was. She described feeling extra pressure because she looks Filipino and so "should" be able to handle herself in the market. With this in mind, I watched the other customers. Half of them careened comfortably through the market, confident in their bags of dried vegetation and frozen fish pieces. These women exchanged greetings with the workers there and would occasionally stop to discuss a finer point of ...something. Whatever they were discussing wasn't in English, so I wasn't privy to the details. The other half of the customers were walking around carefully. They peered at packages suspiciously, attempting to discern whether this was what they needed. I found two men peering into a case of prepared and shrink-wrapped food, carefully reading the ingredient lists. I realized that I was exactly like those two men.
Eventually I found some of the seasonings I was looking for. Some sort of soup called aschuete was locatable, but the market had run out of the Adobo spices. The cooking lesson with Daisy is postponed until she has more time, but I'm looking forward to trying it out. As I checked out, all of the women around me were happily chatting in...something else. I tried to be friendly, but they seemed to look right past me and back to their own conversation. I felt like I had missed something, and realized I was looking forward to leaving.
The thing that I came away with most vividly is that I am going to have to practice this. It certainly does not come naturally to me. Studying in the Middle East has been a dream of mine for a very long time, but I'm realizing that there will be tradeoffs for me as well. The more I find out about culture shock, the more I realize that I have a lot of growing to do to be ready for this trip.
My friend Daisy finally came to the rescue. I was tossing around the idea of going to an Asian market and attempting to get ingredients for food. Daisy is Filipino and offered to teach me to make chicken Adobo. She knew exactly where I should go. It would be a two-part experience, because I would also get to eat the fruits of my labor. I can barely manage grocery shopping in stores I know like the back of my hand (I just wander around for 45 minutes), so shopping in a market where I don't speak the language sounded like a good challenge. So I was sent off with a list of ingredients. As I approached Boo Han Market, I was remembering all of the jokes that are told about Asian drivers in the U.S. I pulled in to observe a parking lot filled with SUV's, and for reasons I can't quite articulate, was very surprised. When I walked into the market my first thought was, "I've chosen something too easy." Everything had a translation, and I recognized the standard Coke products.
As I began to wander around I realized that this was not the case. I didn't find what I was looking for immediately, and I couldn't quite figure out how the store was organized. There seemed to be large quantities of dried vegetable matter (I recognized mushrooms and zucchini) in bags, but these were unlabeled and I wondered what they were used for. I recognized some of the brands that are carried at major food chains in the international food sections, but they all blended in with the less familiar ones.
In the back of my mind I found myself thinking, "Well, if I can't find what I need here I can always go to Safeway and just makeup the mix of spices myself." I was intentionally disconnecting from what I was supposed to be participating in! Even worse, the longer I wandered around and felt more uncomfortable the more I thought, "This is for class, it doesn't really count. I'm here by choice and I'm deliberately setting myself up to feel uncomfortable, so it's not really that bad." Even as I was attempting to engage in something foreign, I was feeding myself excuses to get myself out of the situation.
While I was there, I observed a big distinction between those who shopped there regularly and the people who were less familiar with the store. In talking to Daisy, she described feeling stupid going into this market looking for a particular spice and not being able to remember which one it was. She described feeling extra pressure because she looks Filipino and so "should" be able to handle herself in the market. With this in mind, I watched the other customers. Half of them careened comfortably through the market, confident in their bags of dried vegetation and frozen fish pieces. These women exchanged greetings with the workers there and would occasionally stop to discuss a finer point of ...something. Whatever they were discussing wasn't in English, so I wasn't privy to the details. The other half of the customers were walking around carefully. They peered at packages suspiciously, attempting to discern whether this was what they needed. I found two men peering into a case of prepared and shrink-wrapped food, carefully reading the ingredient lists. I realized that I was exactly like those two men.
Eventually I found some of the seasonings I was looking for. Some sort of soup called aschuete was locatable, but the market had run out of the Adobo spices. The cooking lesson with Daisy is postponed until she has more time, but I'm looking forward to trying it out. As I checked out, all of the women around me were happily chatting in...something else. I tried to be friendly, but they seemed to look right past me and back to their own conversation. I felt like I had missed something, and realized I was looking forward to leaving.
The thing that I came away with most vividly is that I am going to have to practice this. It certainly does not come naturally to me. Studying in the Middle East has been a dream of mine for a very long time, but I'm realizing that there will be tradeoffs for me as well. The more I find out about culture shock, the more I realize that I have a lot of growing to do to be ready for this trip.