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Culture Shock
It
was never my intention to write either a
travel blog or a diary but it
is inevitable that several of my columns, like this one, contain elements
of both. The first half of May I spent in Bishkek where among other
things I was to be a guest speaker at various places including universities
and a private language school. Now I know many of you would take this
sort of thing in your stride but for me, despite jumping at the
opportunity, it was something of a challenge. I am not a teacher or
lecturer, I have never been much of a public speaker and, despite
having done some acting, I suffer from stage fright. For these
reasons I requested an informal setting and asked that the stress be
on question and answer sessions. Armed with some photos, a guitar,
my book and a vague plan I embarked upon my 'college tour'. Each venue
was different, some had taken my request more seriously than others
but the atmosphere was mostly relaxed. The most sessions began with a
short series of photos , I talked about my book and ended all of them
with one of my own songs. In between a fair amount of improvisations
was called for depending on the group. On the whole though there was
plenty of room for dialogue. For three of the most frequently asked
questions I had no answer:
1)
Who is your favourite footballer? - Yes I do watch football sometimes
but I'm not really a fan as such, to make things worse the first time
I was asked this question my mind went blank, I couldn't think of the
names of any footballers, so I couldn't even fake it! 2) This question was formed in various ways but basically what the students in this emerging and struggling democracy wanted know was why two countries, Great Britain and The Netherlands, both great promoters of democracy and proud of their democratic heritage, had non-elected heads of state; Kings and Queens to be precise!- There is no good answer to that and certainly no short one!
3) What was my biggest culture shock in Kyrgyzstan? - I had no answer to this one either. I don't have a favourite footballer, I really don't understand why we still have kings and queens and as I hinted in my very first ever column I rarely experience culture shock. Mostly the place where I am seems the right and natural place to be, I adjust easily, maybe too easily sometimes.
Also
I am, seriously, more often struck by how similar we all are despite
the cultural, religious and social differences.
I certainly can't remember any great culture shock the first time I visited Kyrgyzstan, yes, of course, it was different, otherwise there would have been no point in going, but there was no shock.
Because I have regular contact, sometimes daily, with people in or from Kyrgyzstan it was surprising to realise that this recent trip was only my third visit to the country. There was something of a homecoming feel about it. Even the potholes in roads leading to the city centre were familiar, although some of them had grown up a bit since my last visit, got larger, bigger and deeper, some had even invited friends to join them to form small pothole communities, while just a few had disappeared, however, as I discovered while cycling around the city, they had simply moved to another district!
No,
with a few exceptions, the nearest I come to culture shock is when I
return from a trip. I am unreasonably disappointed that, back home,
nothing has changed. While I have been away
doing all sorts of exciting things, experiencing new sights, sounds
and smells, meeting new people and/or old friends the folks back home
have been getting on with their daily lives, jobs, chores, children's
parties and parent problems. While I may be bubbling and bursting to
share the stories of my travels many of them will not even have
noticed that I was gone!
But
that is not the worst thing, after all in a few weeks they may well
be off having their own adventures.. No, the worst thing is that
after the shortest time for me too it's business as usual:
appointments, bills, taxes, deadlines, routines and daily rituals.
After
just a few days it's even hard for me to believe that I have been
away.......
…....“Obla-di-obla-da,
life
goes on”
