Culture Shock

Culture shock is not pretty or pleasant, but without going through it, none of my perspectives would have changed.  The purpose of an exchange would never be achieved. Culture shock, to be honest, is nothing like I thought it would be.  I imagined it like this—You go to Tanzania in the Peace Corps, are living in a straw hut with no water and limited electricity.   Men, women, and children work 14-hour days, with the sole purpose being survival and passing on a better life to the next generation.  You finally realize how different their perspectives, goals, and desires are, and how wide the economic gap has grown.  Why should you, an 18-year-old American, have such a different and more privileged life?

So yeah… call me dumb, but when I think of culture shock, that’s what comes to mind.  And, I’m pretty sure I’m not alone. But, what I’ve found is something different. The biggest differences are sometimes the easiest to deal with.  You spot them, identify them, and realize that you’ll just have to accept them or you wont survive in your new destination.  I accepted the fact that I would see more poverty in the states.  It bothers me to see it, but I have to deal with it.  I accepted the fact that women and men have different social statuses here.  My sister and I clean the house, my brother fixes the car.  When I offer to help bring in groceries, I’m usually denied or given the lightest bags.  It’s different, but I’m not here to support women’s rights or equality.  I’m here to learn about Ecuador and learn about myself.  Culture shock, for me, are those days when I come home from school, drag myself upstairs, and miss all of the people and things that were so familiar.  When I miss understanding all the ropes.--never being surprised by some quirk that I had no idea existed.  Just knowing how everything works, how to communicate what I want, and how to get people to understand me 100%. 

For the most part, I’ve dealt pretty well with all of it.   I’m a flexible person.  I’m adaptable. But every now and then something just gets under my skin.   The fact that my religious beliefs aren’t very accepted can get a little uncomfortable. The fact that I have to dress up more when I go out sometimes seems a little strange.  But what I’ve learned is—the point isn’t to stick 100% to your own beliefs and values.  You have to put yourself in the shoes of the Ecuadorians--think of their lives from the time they were infants.  You can’t just try to understand their perspective from your own viewpoint.  You have to leave behind your cultural values, ideas, and upbringing, and look through theirs.  For example, I’ve learned to accept the fact that my parents will ask the last name of every one of my friends to make sure that they know the family. I realized that it’s because they just want to look out for me, and that in this culture, the people you go out with define your reputation. They don’t do it because they don’t trust me or because they’ll only let me go out with a certain class of people.  As my papi once told me—“Todos pagan por uno.”  I’m not sure if those were exactly the right words, but it’s basically that if one person in a group does something, everyone pays.  If some exchange students have a bad reputation, we all do.  If a group of my classmates has a reputation for drinking and I go out with them for one night, I’ll start to build the same reputation.

Another example that’s a little clearer---when I first got here, I was shocked by the difference in social status between men and women.  When I wasn’t allowed to carry heavier grocery bags, I would feel sort of angry and cheated.  But—I looked through the eyes of my brother or my dad.  They thought that they were being chivalrous and nice.  They were accepting the jobs that no one really wanted.  From their perspective, they were respecting me much more by taking those jobs than by letting me do them.  

I’m rambling. Anyway, getting back to this whole thing—THE POINT OF AN EXCHANGE.  You jump out of your comfort zone. You realize that even if you call yourself a liberal, free thinker, you aren’t.  I think it is impossible to realize how much our society affects us until we’ve gone to look beyond it, and had the audacity to question all of those things that we never even realize we took for granted.  It makes us rethink what we want to do with our time here and how we view ourselves in the context of our world.  Not only have I experienced that by putting myself in the shoes of the Ecuadorians, but just being out of my old town and in a completely new group of friends has changed my perspectives.  The exchange students in my town are always hanging out, and just being around them forces me to look at things differently.

So, what more can I say but thank you to all of the people who’ve made this happen for me.  They told us in orientations that we might get to our new host country and wonder what the heck we’re doing there and why we ever signed up.  I can say that I’ve never wondered.  I’ve had my moments of frustration—can’t say I enjoy being charged triple for taxis or being served soup with a duck foot sticking out of it—but there is this underlying point to being here that I don’t let myself forget.

Año Nuevo

New Years Eve didn’t bring quite as much homesickness along with it.   They have a lot of great traditions here that I’ve never heard of or seen anywhere else.  When I was asked out American traditions, I felt kind of strange explaining that we watching a giant glowing ball drop on the TV and then usually party all night.  Here, they make “años viejos” or “old years.”  These are paper mache figures that are stuffed with fireworks and burned at midnight.  The idea is to burn the old year—to get rid of old regrets, failures, habits, etc. and to make room for the new year with its new opportunities.  Neighborhoods and local stores and organizations make huge presentations of años viejos, which are judged in a contest.  Around 9pm on New Years Eve, everyone in the city goes out to check out this years’ set ups and decide for themselves which is the best.  My two favorites: one depicted the process of making Ecuadorian sunhats, which is a important, traditional art in my area, while the other played some of the most vulgar regaetton music and had dancing scenes from the discoteca [keep in mind… these are all life size figures made of paper mache and placed on huge wooden platforms… it was INCREDIBLE to see how much they got into it].  To pay for it all, men dress up as the “widow” of the old year and ask for money in the streets.  After our tour around the city, we went back to the house for dinner with all of the family.  Turkey was the main dish, but there were crab rolls, farm raised chickens, fried rice, salad, etc. etc.   As soon as we finished eating, the minutes were ticking down to 12.  Everyone made at least some attempt to stuff 12 grapes in their mouth with the last 12 seconds of the old year, and at 12 on the dot, the champagne poured and the fireworks were lit.  The años viejos were doused with gasoline and thrown up in flames, and as every car alarm began to sound from the rumbling booms of firecrackers, everyone cheered, cried, and wished one another the best in the new year.  And, as if there weren’t enough things going on, a few running laps around the urbanization with suitcases were made to ensure frequent traveling in 2012.  After the festivities died down we went up stairs to get primped and prepared for the next step: the partying.  Even my parents went out to party… it seemed like all of Portoviejo was heading out.  There are huge, formal parties with $25 dollar entrances and required invitations.  But, in the end I headed to a friends house who’s parents had decided to throw a party for the exchange students.  After enough dancing and food to kill me, I headed back to the house around 6 am, slipped into my bed, and slept well into the new year. 

La Navidad

Today after French class, I hung out with my friend Emma [a fellow American exchange student] at her house.  As is our tradition, we decided to paint our finger and toenails with the most obscene colors [or color-sparkle combinations] possible.  While we were in the bathroom picking out color combinations, I was admiring the Christmas themed toilet cover.  Not only was it Christmas themed, but it included pompoms, some sequins, and the words “FELIZ NAVIDAD” in bold white letters.  We decided that bringing back a few Christmas themed toilet covers would better represent the Ecuadorian culture than some kind of alpaca sweater or postcard from the Galapagos.  Christmas decorating is a way of life in Ecuador.  EVERYTHING is decked out—Supermarkets, malls, bathrooms, bedrooms—I’ve even seen special silverware sets with snowflakes on them.  To top it off, there’s no Thanksgiving to mark the “socially acceptable” beginning of Christmas decorating.  Early November hits and the world becomes a Christmas wonderland. If you have the money, huge nativity scenes are a must, both inside and outside.  In my house, there were three women who sat in my living room for three days decorating—the tree, banisters, guest bathroom, chairs, mantles, etc.  Emma and I also decided that we miss ugly Christmas trees that are not professionally decorated and aren’t completely color coordinated.  A few of those hideous ornaments that we made at Christmas parties 15 years ago never seemed quite so beautiful.  Anyway… so we finally make it to Christmas Eve.  In Ecuador, they open presents at midnight on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas morning.  At 8:30pm, we are still whizzing around toy stores, searching in the mall, and trying to buy tape and gift bags. We start eating around 11:30.  Pork, chicken, fish, etc… everything is piled onto a giant plate that is set in front of you.  Coke, strawberry soda, and Nestea are passed around the table, seconds are offered, and everyone eats until they’re stuffed.  Next up—presents.  My own gifts were well received, and I was given some lovely ones too, including a giant, stuffed angry bird.  After gifts, we sat and played Jenga [one of my little brother’s presents] until 3 in the morning, and then headed up to bed.  Asi se acabó la navidad.