Every time I think I'm coping and being awesome, European, and modern, culture shock punches me in the ovaries. It particularly loves to do it just as I think I'm totally over culture shocking. It started today with some milk, followed by some Host Dad, (who has been looking at me recently like he's wanted to say something), and ended with some Something being said.
I drink milk like a fish. I'm sorry, I don't mean to, but I figure since I don't drink coffee, wine, beer, OR most juices and teas, my milk-drinking is a pardonable offense. But apparently we were running out of milk today, because Host Parents at dinner said, "Tina, can you make a point not to drink any more milk? It's running low, and you didn't buy any or tell us so we could buy some, and the child needs the rest for his breakfast tomorrow. When it runs low, you need to buy milk" It went in one ear, buzzed through the American translator like a lightning bug on speed, and came out the other ear as: go buy some milk. I said, "Oh, I'm sorry, I can run to the supermarket after dinner." And they said, "No, that won't be necessary." Buzz buzz goes the translator. Verdict: Yes, please, that would be great!
So, right after dinner, I headed out and bought some milk. "Look!" I said triumphantly, "milk purchased, problem solved!" I congratulated myself for my quick-thinking and skillful bike-riding, that saw me screeching up to the store just before it closed. I patted myself on the mental shoulder for single-handedly saving my family from osteoporosis. I was the fucking MAN. Except the fucking man was really confused when the Host Parents got a little pissy about her super-human milk-buying exploits, and said, "You didn't have to do that, that's not what we meant."
Later that evening, Host Dad made a general announcement and said, "Can we all try to keep a little more order in this house?" Buzz buzz: Tina, you're the only non-German in this room, so you need to get with the German Ordnung Programm. "Oh, I'm sorry," said I, "where did I make a mess?" And that was it. Host Dad went off about how I'm always defensive, take things personally, and don't do things around the house for fear of making a mistake. Buzz buzz: Tina, you suck, so try not to cry. "Oh, I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't know what you were looking for. And you told me to go buy milk." "No we didn't." "You said we were running low on milk and I should have bought some." "That doesn't mean go buy milk now." "Yes it does!" "No. It doesn't." Buzz buzz: ERRORERRORdoesnotcomputeERROR. Then I got to hear all about how if I keep assuming indirect meanings, Germany is going to eat me and I won't be able to study or work or walk outside without the entire country rising up to poke me with sharp sticks. Buzz buzz: fail at life.
So where does that leave me? In my room, eating my way through the last box of Cheez-Its my mother sent me, watching America scroll by me on Facebook. Land of the free, and home of the people who, reassuringly, never say what they actually mean. I miss it.
3 comments:
In Hungary, my host mom took me on a special visit to the capital to show me around. She kept asking what I wanted to see, so I of course deferred to her, like a passive/submissive/polite American, saying "Whatever YOU'd like to see!" And by the end of the day her son told me in English that I had greatly offended his mother because I clearly had no interest in Hungary.
But the good news is that all you have to do is explain that passivity is a way of life in America, and if someone makes an offhand remark about milk, it truly does translate to "BUY MILK NOW." You could even turn it into a cultural lesson for them on the U.S. that could be just as important as a language lesson! Don't worry, they'll understand. If not, we will send you more Swiss-Miss and Cheez-Its.
--Samantha B.
We had another long discussion about it last night, and came to the conclusion that we are operating on two different ways of communicating. Host Mom said the example in her English text-book was that if you say, "I'm hot," an American will open a window. Which is exactly true, and perfectly illustrative, and I think I've pulled that one on you in the truck about a million times!
Oh... I remember eating ALL of Danielle's hummus at the UWC. She gave it to me after I had mentioned to her that I was hungry. (I didn't mean to ask her to give me food though - Oops!) And when I explained that the twinkies were good and that the beer was good, people kept giving me beer and twinkies... until I was totally drunk and my blood sugar was starting to crystallize... Jeez, Americans ARE very polite!
You see, I'm learning from your experiences. ;-) But still I think you need to relax, Tina! Take it easy!
--Dirk
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