cultural differences – Page 2 – GW Blogs from Abroad

Vale, Vale, Vale

AdminOctober 10, 2014December 14, 2018

It's official - one month in Madrid already gone by. In true Spanish fashion, I spent the morning on a bus on the way back from Bilbao to get back in time for a bullfight in Madrid. I read bits of a spare Spanish newspaper and constructed a brief list of do’s and don’ts in Madrid.

Say “que chulo” & “vale” – “Chulo” can mean many things, but mainly cool, good-looking, or cocky/arrogant. My host mother told me that pure Madrileños are definitely chulo. “Vale” is basically “okay” and is a response to anything anybody ever says to you ever.

Live on the street – Not in a homeless way. Anytime in the afternoon or evening, every Spanish city is filled with people watchers sitting in plazas or bursting out of tapas bars. Usually with a glass of wine, a beer, or a good-looking partner, everyone lives on the street.

Give directions in apples – I made a rookie move one afternoon in an attempt to sound like a local. I was on a walk and an older, hurried man stopped me on street to ask for directions. I told him to continue “tres cuadros,” or three blocks, which would have been fine if I were back in Colombia. However, here in Madrid, blocks are “manzanas” or apples.

Applaud for forever – So far our program has been to two ballet performances and one comedy show. After each show concluded and the performers came back on stage to bow while the audience clapped ferociously. Arm in arm, they walked backward and then forward again to bow. However it never stopped after the third or even forth time. It went on for ten minutes, until our hands were red and tired and we had to sit back down.

Have an opinion about Cataluña – Last weekend, our program had an excursion to Barcelona. Whenever we mentioned our plans to anyone, professor or peer, there was a response, positive or negative.

Do Not

Go into a restaurant hungry at 7 or 8 pm – Don’t expect to eat dinner before 9 or 10 anywhere unless you prefer eating in empty restaurants. Everyone is too busy living on the street with their glasses of wine to be seen eating during daylight.

Dress casually for a bullfight – Everyone looks like they were going to a country club or date night. Long-sleeve collar shirts, structured dresses and cardigans surrounded us in the arena. Although we were high up and in the heat of the afternoon sun, the “corrida de toros” was unexpectedly a fashion event.

Expect the check to arrive – Eating a meal is a social event and entails substantial conversation during and especially after. There is no “quick bite to eat” mentality and no rush for a check.

Keep one hand in your lap while eating – Elbows or wrists on the table. Always.

Watch a football game in silence – Watching football requires passion and it should be clear if your team is winning or losing.

Thoughts on a Brazilian University

AdminOctober 6, 2014

Thoughts on my classes here at my university in São Paulo:

No electives, only your designated course path! I'm taking classes from three separate departments, which is shocking to some here.
The student-professor relationship is much more casual than anything I've experienced before. In one of my classes, we talked about the idea of considering a professor as part of your extended family or of using familial idioms in your conception of a professor, and whether or not it was problematic to call a professor "tia," for example. All of this went under the assumption that if not "tia," your professor was called by their first name. The idea of calling your professor by their last name was, as discussed in the class, shocking and counterproductive to the pursuit of collective learning.
Some of the Brazilian students straight up read magazines or talk on the phone in one of my classes. In the other two, if you don't do the readings beforehand, you will be singled out and probably mocked. (Kidding. Just shunned.)
Brasil speaks (very) frankly about its colonial history and about the fact that it was a colonizing power/a colonized country, and that the ruling class or powerful group remains rooted in this "colonizador," as it's called here. I can honestly not imagine any university course in the States speaking so frankly about the United States as a colonized space; obviously, the colonial history is different here than in the U.S., especially in the fact that the US was colonized by families seeking a new home and Brasil by single men seeking to exploit resources, but both were--and remain--countries that were built from colonized areas.
Brazilian students have a nice system set up in which a few people are assigned the reading each week and they are the ones who present or participate in discussions, leaving me and the rest of the class to nod along in implicit agreement.
People do not, in general, like the U.S.'s economic or political strategies, except for the odd neoliberal thrown in there, but they very genuinely view the U.S. as the pinnacle of social and economic development and liberty. For example, during Ferguson--which was widely publicized here, as well as globally, for a few days--two of my three professor and my host mom said to me, "I saw a black person died in the United States. Black people die here all the time." That is, verbatim, what my anthropology professor said. I was unsure of how to respond, or of how to address that depth of a misconception. Issues like racism can be compared between here and there, because certainly racism exists in both places, but, equally certainly, it takes a different form; racism in these two locations cannot, however, be stacked against each other or measured on a scale. It just won't work.
A smoke break is taken quite literally. The professor and the students go into the hallway to smoke a cigarette, then go downstairs for a coffee, then back up to smoke another one. I repeat, in the hallway.

Overall, my university here is an incredibly liberal and progressive space, and I am learning so much about how Brazilians view themselves, the global sphere and community, and the United States. I am also learning exactly how much time it takes my sociology professor to smoke two cigarettes. I'm hoping that what I take back with me from these classes (including this aforementioned tidbit) is relevant to what I continue to study, but even if not? Everything I'm learning here is awesome.

The Trials of Argos

AdminSeptember 18, 2014December 14, 2018

By Jess Yacovelle

I've been in London for about a week now, and I've been surprised as to how similar the UK is to the United States. Sure, there are small cultural differences here and there (such as the UK's startling lack of peanut butter, for one), but for the most part, the two countries aren't quite so different. Or, at least, that's what I thought before I ventured into Argos.

If you've been to the UK, or you watch British panel and comedy shows, you've heard the store's name thrown about here or there. The concierges at the hotel I've been staying at have equated Argos to an American store like Target. Having been to Argos, I can say with full confidence that anyone who compares Argos to Target has never set foot in a Target.

Basically, Argos is a warehouse - a bit like Costco, really - only instead of being inside the warehouse, patrons don't get to look at the items they're about to buy until they've already paid for them. Instead, they flip through a catalogue searching for what they want, then enter the ID number into the computer and hope it's in stock.

It's very much like shopping online, but without the added benefit of knowing the store has whatever you want to order. I set foot in Argos with a list of 12 things (blankets, pillows, towels, etc). Of the 12 things, 4 were completely out of stock, and 3 were only available in limited sizes.

The amazing thing is that this is not only considered a normal shopping practice in the UK, but it's beloved by the people there. Whereas my mother and I got frustrated by the lack of stuff, everyone else in the shop looked pretty cheerful, or at least content. As Americans, we were annoyed and upset by the lack of availability of our items, but the locals accepted this as a fact of life with ease.

Unwittingly, I stumbled upon the greatest difference between the UK and the US. Americans are a little more uptight; we expect for things to be easy, and when they aren't we get upset. Even if it's only a minor inconvenience, such as the towels coming in the wrong sizes, we're still conditioned to be angry. The Brits have a different attitude. They accept that sometimes things don't go the way you want them to, and there's no use getting frustrated over the matter. They don't focus heavily on the minor unpleasantries; they know it's okay if Argos doesn't have any comforters in stock because it's not the end of the world.

French Kissing

AdminSeptember 18, 2014December 14, 2018

By bevvy2212

Ok, hold your scream mom, I know you’re discretely reading this via google translate, but what I’m about to talk about has nothing to do with the topic, at least not in the way that you expected it to be.

What I learned this week about the French and their confusing culture is their way of handling personal spaces and their “petites bisous”—kiss on the cheeks.

For someone like me who has little regard of people’s personal bubbles and always enjoy popping them to test their boundaries, the French might not like me very much. It is weird because I remember vividly back in high school when my French teacher told the class that the French are way more intimate than Americans, which has not been the case for me, or maybe it’s a Paris thing. I kept on forgetting that Paris does not represent the entire France. In fact, most people have told me that Paris is one of the few exceptions of France and only the Parisians are mean. (Not that I’m complaining about living in Paris or anything).

I was having coffee with a couple of French girls one day and their comments about personal boundaries really threw me off. First of all, no hugs. Don’t go around hugging people you have just met five minutes ago. (Oops, guess I’ve been doing Paris wrong for about three weeks now?) A wave or a hand-shake like “Good day, sir”, should suffice. Um ok? I don’t know how it is for other people but I am a very hug-ish person so I have been very self-conscious since that conversation. I would flail my arms in excitement when I see my friends yet have to forcefully retract above mentioned flailing arms in order not to hug them. Yes, it has been a struggle.

The French like to kiss each other on the cheeks, at least they do it to their fellow Frenchmen, and these little kisses are very confusing and super awkwardness-prone if you don’t do it right. Back in Peru, kiss on the cheek is a must. Even if you are just meeting a friend of a friend with whom you have never met, you kiss them first, then you introduce yourself. But I guess the French are more selective in this process. Since I want to get submerged in the culture so everytime I meet a new French friend, I look excitedly at them like a puppy staring at a piece of meat, hoping against hope that they would smack their precious cheek against mine, only to be disappointedly rejected by a handshake. Yesterday, I was meeting up with a French friend for dinner and she brought another friend with her. We both looked at each other, eyes full of uncertainties. “Are we doing this?” Our eyes read. Then her head leaned forward for an inch. “Oh? Oh! We’re doing this!” I thought. I handled the whole situation smoothly, the kiss didn’t feel out of place or anything. Brush dust off the shoulder. *Pat pat*.

So yeah, I guess in conclusion, don’t touch them, unless they initiate it or if you are specifically interested in them. Vice versa, apparently if a guy touches you surreptitiously, (yes, I sound like I’m writing a romance novel for six graders, surreptitiously) then that means they are interested. Guess I’ll have to be careful not to send out all sorts of mixed signals…

Things that I miss about the U.S.

AdminSeptember 11, 2014December 14, 2018

By bevvy2212

Three things I miss about the U.S/ GW

I never thought I would say this, but I actually miss Gelman… Sciences Po is kind of like GW. It does not have an actual campus; instead it has several academic buildings randomly scattered around in the 6eme arrondissement of Paris. That being said, space is quite scarce. Therefore, finding a desk to sit down and do some work is quite the challenge. For once in my life, I am actually motivated to do work and here I am, unable to even set a foot in the library because it’s so packed. Why Sciences Po, whyyyy. I also miss being able to physically go into the aisles and find books that I want because most of the books in Sciences Po are being stored underground that stretches miles and miles under Paris, so it requires some time to get the requested book transferred above ground.

Big Portions

Maybe I have been spoiled, but I am constantly starving in Paris because food is so expensive and the portions are tiny in comparison. 3 euros for a bottle of coke? What is this, capitalism! No refills? Blasphemous! I’m not a big fan of bread, wine, or cheese. So I honestly don’t know what I’m doing here in Paris.

The way I dressed.

The weather drops down to the 50s in the mornings here… while it’s been in the 80s in DC. It’s the first week of September. It’s barely fall yet. I should not be breaking out my llama sweater when I wake up for my 8am class. Also, I’m a pretty casual-dress person, so all the posh clothing and Louis Vuitton make me feel a little under-dressed at times. What I don’t understand is the Parisians’ need to dress up for badminton. Badminton! I went to my badminton class on Tuesday, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, I considered myself as dressed appropriately. But I was confused by the group of students in khakis, loafers, skirts, and flats when I reached the gym. I double-checked the address and came into realization that these poshly dressed people are, indeed, my fellow badminton players.

The teacher later cancelled class which was when I realized that my fellow posh badminton players immediately blended in with the Parisians on the street because of their way of dressing and I was left looking like I was going to the Olympics in my sports attire. Not to mention the amount of stares I have received again because of my shorts, God forbid that a girl should not show some skin when it is 82 degrees out!

Tapas in Our Laps

AdminSeptember 10, 2014

Dingwell1 — Tapas with GW Madrid students

“You’re studying abroad in Spain? That sounds like fun. What will you be doing there?” Months before leaving I was repeatedly prompted with this type of query at every dinner party or family gathering. After a few rounds of responding with, “going to art class in the Museo del Prado, taking classes at a local university, and excursions to Galicia, Barcelona,” it sounded exciting, but almost predictable. Yet again and again, weeks before I even started to pack, I was probed to describe dreamy expectations of my upcoming experience in every aspect.

“I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time there.” I nodded. “Once, maybe ten or eleven years ago, John and I went to Madrid for a day on the way to Barcelona and…” I nodded more. I heard lots of unspecific stories about how much they liked the Prado and how great it was to see the flamenco dancers, but nothing very concrete. At this point, after I’d dispensed my class schedule and planned intercontinental trips, I regularly whipped out one conversation piece.

“I read that they eat a little differently in Spain, etiquette-wise. Apparently you are supposed to keep both hands visible during the meal, as in on the table not on your lap. They also don’t eat butter with their bread and always keep the fork in the left hand, no switching.” My grandmother and her friends particularly enjoyed this topic at a brunch once, but I thought it was more fun-fact material, solely for pre-departure chatter.

However, at our first dinner, the fun-fact became more like our first challenge. Dr. Carmela Hernández, our Resident Director, repeated the same facts I had been both sharing and largely ignoring at meals. As we struggled to eat our fish, she filled us in on many more tips. Never yawn with arms stretched in public. Look at people in the metro, it’s okay, it’s normal, it’s entertaining. Don’t walk barefoot. Try to eat your hamburgers with a fork and knife. It’s gra-thi-as.

Three days in, and many plates of rabo de toro (bull’s tail), croquetas, ceviche, and chorizo later, some of us are still missing our mouths and dropping our food on our napkins. Nonetheless we are one step closer to being Madrileños and qué será, será, tapas in our laps and all.

Puzzled by the Patriarchy

AdminApril 9, 2014December 14, 2018

By juliaraewagner

My time in Senegal has had me thinking a lot about cultural relativism. During my stay, I faced some pretty alternative manners of thinking and living that greatly contrasted with my own. When I encountered such traditions and values, I wrote them off as simple differences in culture. I was adamant about not imposing my own assumptions of what is right and wrong upon a culture that I was just trying to observe and better understand without judgement. Now that I have left Senegal for the last leg of my trip in Buenos Aires, Argentina, I've been reflecting on my experience in West Africa and trying to piece together my opinions on the experience.

One situation that really challenged my assumptions was a discussion about polygamy that I had with one leader of a feminist organization in Dakar. She had said that many educated women often seek to join a polygamist relationship because the system offers them opportunities. For one, as wife #3 or #4, the educated woman would be free to get a job of her choice without worry that she is not caring for her husband. She may also be a more attractive match for a man seeing that she can work and support herself. Thus, female education does nothing to threaten the institution of polygamy at this point in time. The fact that many educated women still seek polygamist relationships speaks to how comfortable the general populous is with the idea of polygamy.

In contrast, I entered the country with many reservations about the idea of polygamy. In my eyes, the institution exacerbates inequalities between the genders and perpetuates them. Hearing what women had to say about polygamy was unsettling for me, but a healthy dose of cultural relativism. I am currently working on discovering where the line of what is culturally appropriate and what is simply right or wrong lies. In my eyes, polygamy is still a perpetuation of the patriarchy, regardless of whether the women agree with the system or not. But it is also important to consider whether the people and institutions whom I evaluate even consider their values on the same terms. I will have to continue to reflect on this.