Column: Culture shocks and walk (signs) of life as an international student
The experience of being an international student is equally filled with doubts and certainties. When asked “how would you describe it,” every single student that I know always responds with something along the lines of “I don’t know what to tell you,” like they can’t grasp all the stories, plot lines and outcomes that they have lived in months.
But you have to give that to them. The amount of experiences international students will live through in the span of months are not remotely comparable to what you would expect to happen on an ordinary day in your life.
I have been in that same boat twice. My first time was on the East Coast. The second time, at Willamette, is so far away from my previous destination that it almost looks like I did it on purpose.
Giving the exchange experience a second run is certainly something that I would describe as eye-opening. You understand why you struggled with problems that are now minor inconveniences. And you get to comprehend the dynamics that come with being thrown into a random place with a random group of people that have nothing in common with you beyond being a human. Most importantly, you realize that you have no real clue how in the world you did all of that and still made it home safe and sound.
In the end, every single one of us who goes all the way to another country, or even continent, has that in common: a life that felt completely out of reach when you were at home is now your every day.
To nobody’s surprise, a huge part of the study abroad experience is the culture shock. However, the most interesting part about this is how fast we can adapt to this new way of living.
At first, it is surprising, as I can assure you that I fully did not expect a gap in a bathroom stall. But as time goes by, you slowly begin to accept the changes as part of your new reality. It gets to a point when you never even give it a second thought, and I would argue that is the best part about culture shock. I am currently working on my relationship with the gap.
In my previous exchange, when asked on the first day about the culture shocks experienced so far, my German friend decided to shout, “How am I supposed to cross a road when the walk sign is still red?!” In Europe, they usually turn green when you can cross the street, and red when you are not supposed to. She was so distressed that the walking man turned into a red hand that she began sprinting all the way to the other side.
I learned my lesson on the opposite coast.
Two semesters later, I never gave the walking signs in Oregon a second thought. The culture was no longer a shock to me. That is why this time, it took me by surprise when I was crossing the road to Safeway and all of my international friends started shouting. I turned back in distress, already thinking about whether or not I remembered that video on self-defense I watched back in 2019.
But what I found was a group of people yelling because the walking sign turned red. I told them that they could proceed, as we still had enough time to cross. They looked at the sign with a skepticism I never imagined I would see someone have towards a road sign. I could see their brains trying to figure out the logic behind my statement.
And guess what they did?
They began sprinting all the way to the other side.
On that very crosswalk, a few feet from Kaneko, I was taken a year and some states back. I realized that, in a matter of no less than a month, the walk signs would be the most ordinary thing to them, as it ended up being for my German friend. As it ended up being for me. At that very moment, I realized how a country can transform from a foreign place into a home, where you meet people who become family and make memories in locations that were once mere spots on a map.
And all of that is just a culture shock away—be it India, Brazil, Norway or Salem, Oregon.
Comments