I hear the word culture
and think back to elementary school when in Social Studies class you had to
study the different cultures around the world.
It’s a way of life and everybody does it differently. Sure, Americans have their own culture, but I
thought we were pretty much the epicenter of it all, right? (Eh hem…. which might be what a lot of
Americans really do think. Even still.)
I knew there was a variety of ways to live life but never to
the extent until you are completely immersed in one for quite some time.
I moved to Cambodia 15 months ago and can honestly say I
have gotten a crash course on a new culture.
My 4th grade little mind would have never accepted this as my
future but it is, for now at least.
Everyday I am confronted with culture and how different
things are. The way we eat and when we
eat. Where we work and for how
long. Family. Fun.
Religion. Sports. Leisure.
Crisis. Struggles. Happiness.
Well… you name it and it’s different.
Last week, I went to pay rent to our landlord who lives in a
“shack” right behind our very large 3-story house with 4 Western white girls
living in it, mind you. She grabbed her
son who speaks decent English and we solidified numbers and then he started
asking me questions, which opened up the door for me to be a little more honest
with him.
It went like this: (please imagine me saying all of this in
short, slow phrases with somewhat of an accent)
Me: Oh yes. One more thing.
Him: Ok?
Me: You know how your
parents have this pottery business? And
they use the red paint to paint the pottery?
Him: Oh.. yes yes…
Me: Well all of that
paint is going into the ground. And it
is bad for you. And it makes our water
very orange and red and not clean.
Him: Oh… yes yes… I
know.
Me: That is very bad
for all of us. In America, we have laws
against that for health reasons.
Him: (with a grin on
his face) Oh yes. But we are a
developing country and we do not. Maybe
one day we will have laws like America.
Me: *smile
Yea…. ok…. but we clean our water so it is ok.
hahahahah!!!!! So he was basically saying, “Yea, Lady. Sorry!
Suck it up. You chose to live here.”
I did say it very
nicely and he was responsive to me and we left on good terms, but
seriously. I mean-how American can I
be?! I suppose me stating my fancy
little American laws did not mean squat to him.
This is a minor
example as to how different life is. It
can make things difficult sometimes: it’s hard to relate to the Khmer (that’s
what Cambodians are traditionally called in Asia), hard to start a
conversation, and hard to continue a relationship because we often find that we
don’t have a lot in common. The way they
live their lives and carry on with work is so different from us.
Thankfully, our
common thread is family. When I talk
about my sisters and their beautiful children they always want to see a picture
and comment on their cuteness. They like
to learn about our way of life and understand how we function within our family
units as well. It’s rather comforting to
know that God has given all of us
this gift of family no matter where we are in the world… dirty, red water and
all.
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