In year four it is hard for me to remember to write about some of the cultural differences that I know fascinate so many readers. I think this is simply because we've somewhat normalized to the experiences. Where once we were wide-eyed and observant, now our eyes are desensitized and I hardly think something is "interesting" enough to write about. (For those interested in lots of those types of posts, go back to 2008s writings, during our first year.)
Saturday, after the big performance detailed in my last post, we stopped at the huge "pseudo-western food" market that is about one hour from home for our monthly haul. This time, unlike the usual routine, we had all the kids along for the costco-like shopping adventure.
It is sort of like a parade for us anytime we go out anywhere. As we walk through the aisles, the people part, some smiling and making loud-comments (generally positive), all mouths agape. In a country where one-child families are the norm, we confound the average citizen who finds themselves viewing our simple shopping trip. Sometimes audible gasps are part of the drill on the
With two carts full of kids and products, we pushed out the door into the blast furnace of a near-summer day. The driver we'd hired for the day (driving the "short" yellow-school bus from the school), helps us press into the small van, wedging number 5 cans of edibles and a five kilogram block of cheddar cheese past already-sweaty little bodies (big bodies as well.)
We begin the trip home. Through the over-populated streets of renegade drivers who will drive their cars anywhere they see fit (sidewalks and one way streets, of course), heads and bodies rocking from uneven pavement that threatens to swallow our van, we make our one hour drive home.
All the while the clock is ticking on the the most beloved part of our day...nap time.
I develop a nervous tick contemplating going without naps, Daddy presses forward in his chair, willing the van to move through time and space more quickly. The children, flush-faced and glassy-eyed threaten to succumb at any moment to that most undesirable of situations...the "car nap." (Since we are only in a car/bus once a week, sometimes less than that, the motion of the vehicle is a powerful sleeping agent influencing the seven smallest ones...who risk drifting off and sending our day into a tailspin.) Yes, when you're parenting seven kids eight years of age and under...missing nap time is sort of like a miniature apocalypse for the parental unit.
We get loud to stymie the sleepiness. Daddy, who HATES loud car trips, agrees that it is our only recourse. We must use any means necessary to preserve nap time, for ALL of us, under the gentle breeze of the fans that cool us. Car songs, tickling, car games,
I feel simply victorious! Nap time is SAVED!
After lugging the enormous bags of goods to our eighth floor abode, like a drill-sergeant I order the kids to go to the potty, wash up, and GET INTO THEIR BEDS! Against my better judgement and denying the crisis-situation of the state of the apartment, I appease myself that after the nap we'll get everyone up to clear the breakfast dishes, remove the lego-mines from the floors, and clear off sitting spaces in the main parts of the apartment. I will not be denied the thirty-minute siesta!
Everyone down in the bunks, some threats uttered to ensure compliance, Daddy and I rest our weary backs and necks in the bed..in hopes of a long summer's nap. When out in the dining room there arose such a clatter, The Bug burst in our room to proclaim what was the matter. When what to our wondering eyes should appear, but two unexpected guests arms full of apples, watermelons, and pears!
AHHHHHHH....cultural lesson-refresher course....here, no one need 'make a date' to visit you...come for a visit whenever, as long as you bring a nice gift. To say that these two were unexpected really doesn't adequately communicate how unexpected they were. The woman of the husband/wife matching set was a person we'd met the weekend before on our countryside trip. (A seven-hour bus trip into the countryside to visit a project.) She had gotten on the bus with us to travel back home and she mentioned that she'd like to "pay us a visit sometime." (If I had a nickel for the number of times passerbys say this to me, I'd be wealthy indeed!) I didn't know her name or ANYTHING about her at all.
I don't know what feeling rocked my consciousness with the greatest vengeance...the loathsome feeling that I was going to miss my sweet victorious nap...or the shame that the apartment's state was completely unacceptable for "drop-ins"...but my adrenaline kicked in and within eight minutes we had the apartment a bit more tidy and I was making the traditional preparations of tea, watermelon seeds, peanuts, and sliced watermelon.
I would like to report that my attitude about the visit was uniformly correct (we are, after all, here to be in relationship with others), but I cannot do so. Perhaps it was my lust for that nap, but I kept thinking over and over again..."hey strangers, couldn't you have called first?" But here, when you say, "give me a call sometime"...I've finally realized, myself a somewhat slow-learner, that it doesn't mean the same thing that it did in the West.
In the West, "give me a call sometime" is a polite, response that could be interpreted many ways on the spectrum of lukewarm to hot...but it always allows both parties CONTROL over future communications. In no way would any westerner expect that such an exchange would invite a drop-in, totally unannounced expectation that you would now suspend whatever plans you had an "visit" for awhile. That just wouldn't be polite (now would it mother?)
But I think that here when you say something like "give me a call sometime" it is the green-light, perhaps a very enthusiastic one at that, that you want to have a relationship with the person in the exchange. Since other interpersonal interactions can consist of being shouted at, pinched, and probed with various "personal" questions while simply shopping for cheese, it makes sense that "give me a call sometimes" means that you are taking your relationship to a significant, next level!
When someone here says, "I'd like to visit you sometime," they really mean it. Not like in the West where you exchange comments like this with little expectation that it would really HAPPEN. (We are so busy in our lives right? Little time for sitting around chatting!)
Furthermore, coming from the West, I feel that I should always answer such attempts at connecting further in the affirmative. When someone says "I'd like to visit you sometime" and my response feels like it MUST be "Okay, sure, give me a call sometime" my subtext of course being "Give me a call and I'll decide at a less awkward moment if I really do want to 'visit' with you."
So these people came to our home on Saturday afternoon. They stayed for forty-five minutes or so. Then they left. I'm not really sure WHY they came, other than the circus/acrobats are not performing in town right now and they hoped for an impromptu entertaining afternoon with the big, crazy family? I suppose will know more about their real interest after several more unannounced visits...when it would be culturally appropriate to tell us what they're really interested in from us, because it would be horribly rude to just come out with it before building a relationship first....but that's another cultural less altogether.
Our guests
Our snacks
Yes, that is THREE boxes of fruit! No local friend would ever come to your home empty-handed, because that would be terribly RUDE (listen up, all you Westerners that used to just come by after we made an appointment for a visit without some sort of gift to give me!)
Oh yeah...now I remember...cultural differences are just that...differences. We've come to appreciate so many wonderful cultural differences here that we prefer over our old western ways. And, if I wanted to live in a place where "give me a call sometime" meant the same thing to me as to someone else...I'll have to move. I'm the one who must adapt in this situation.
I needed that refresher course in this area because I LIVE here (I'm not just visiting) and 'control of one's schedule'...is as impossible as a 'quick' trip to the grocery store.
