Monday, May 28, 2012

Dream or reality?


Living abroad is like being in a dream sometimes. I walk along the streets of my new hometown, and it feels like I’m detached from my body. I look around and people look different; they speak another language; they behave in a peculiar way. It feels like my soul is wandering around while I’m sleeping at home back in my country.

Other times, things here are oddly familiar, as if I had been here all my life. I go to the shops and know where to find all the bargains; I have made friends to whom I feel very close; my dogs swim in the river nearby, having the time of their lives.

I feel I have become this transient soul, coming back and forth, never totally at ease either here or back in my country. If I stay, I know I will be missing so many things which I used to take for granted. If I go, I’ll regret never having tried to live this experience of being abroad for a longer period. Having options can be painful sometimes…

The greatest reward, though, is knowing that, no matter where my journey takes me, wonderful people will be there for me.  
F            

Polite or not polite, this is the question

Some days ago, I was chatting on-line with my sister. At one point, I wrote in Italian: Call me now.
She said something like: Can you please be a little kinder?

This conversation could sound normal and common, but to me it was not.

I felt like Vitangelo Moscarda in the wonderful book One, No one and One Hundred Thousand by Pirandello, when he suddenly finds out, as an adult, something he has never known before: his nose is not completely straight! From that moment on, Mr Moscarda discovers that everyone he knows, everyone is has ever met, has constructed a Vitangelo persona in their own imagination and that none of these personas corresponds to the image of Vitangelo that he himself has constructed and believed to be.

In the same way, I was suddenly hit by this wave: What does my sister mean by "rude"? Is she still from Naples or is she becoming British (which would be great anyway, she should just tell me in order for me to adapt to her new cultural way of communication)? In a nanosecond, 10 images passed through my mind. I thought of so many experiences of miscommunication I had had around the world, especially in France.

I also thought of a Spanish friend of mine. We were once chatting on-line and I started three topics at the same time, he called me Neapolitan and he asserted that in Naples we all talk about at least three things at the same time. Fortunately, he knew this, so he immediately perceived that as a cultural thing and not as an offence. But how could my own sister perceive something that is completely normal for us... as an offence? Was I too Neapolitan or had she become too British?

My seven years in France passed before my eyes: Every time I said directly what I thought, it was perceived as an offence. Is it possible to learn not to say what you think? Is it possible to learn to replace Call me with Would you please call me, if you please dear? Is it fair to judge as rude what could possibly be merely behavior that is influenced by culture? And what is politeness, by the way? I strongly believe that POLITENESS is a relative, cultural concept and I could experience that many, many times in my life. Politeness is not universal nor univocal; many answers, ways of answering, things, behaviors, words can be polite somewhere and impolite somewhere else, even within Europe or the Western world. For example, take the concept of politeness: what French people share is not a universally accepted definition of politeness. In France you have to say Bonjour every time you go into a shop and you're supposed to say both merci and au revoir every time you leave, unless you want to be looked at as if you were a weird, bad-mannered animal; whereas in Italy you don't have to do all this and nobody is going to think that you're impolite. Inversely, in France (especially in Paris) it is totally ok to thrust people in the tube's corridors and to knock them down, and to plow into people in the street, whereas in Italy no one plows into you, no one elbows you and people just move out of their ways in order not to knock you down. So, for me being plowed all the time is really impolite, whereas for a Parisian that is completely normal, but not saying Good morning, thank you and goodbye would be inacceptable. Politeness is a relative concept indeed and we could be more aware of that. Does it make sense to organize a World Summit about rudeness and politeness?

Once, just arrived in Milan from Paris, I tried to apply the Paris' way to walk in the tube: just keep going, don't stop and don't change direction for any reasons. I ended up with twenty people yelling at me for how I was IMPOLITE! That made me laugh! It took me SEVEN years to learn to plow and knock people down in the tube in order not to be plowed and knocked down and now I was yelled at! Life is so funny.

Politeness is indeed, as many other concepts, relative and culture-based. Think of something like freedom, how relative can this concept be?

Other examples are welcome! I'm ready to review my own position.

E

Monday, May 21, 2012

Transcultural Interzone

I've probably come to that state of bliss, where you know you have ethnical and geographical origins and that's ok, but you also know that your identity is far bigger than them. It's like a nirvana. Something I wouldn't exchange with anything else.

My personal experience is, as the definition states, personal. But, perhaps, thousands of people in the world can, in today's globalized world, understand what we're talking about in this blog, recognize themselves in our stories and share their stories with us. 

I'm talking about traveling and living abroad, either for a free choice or under constraint, losing your identity and getting it back... only to lose it again. I'm talking about cultural misunderstandings, intercultural mistakes and transcultural miscommunication. But I'm also talking about being able to overcome that "mis" and get to an understanding and a communication.

I'm talking about that zone, that interzone you can find between yourself and others, your native culture and others', each of your new identities and your old ones. I'm talking about that feeling... when you feel lost, with no roots, only until you figure out your roots are the entire world. It's more difficult to bear, it's too much sometimes, it's not always pleasant nor fulfilling, but it's also fascinating, enriching, huge and indefinable. You are now a citizen of the world, all the world is your home, you can't help but feeling everyone else's pain as your own pain and everyone else's joy as your own joy. This feeling is powerful, you feel like you can see bigger, feel stronger, hear louder and smell the fragrance of a thousand flowers at the same time, flowers you didn't even know they existed before.

So we are talking about that Transcultural Interzone where you can find your place, your identity in a plurality of identities, your culture in a plurality of cultures, never forgetting your origins, and your condition in a single condition: the human one.

Beyond all limits, beyond all obstacles, we are human beings. But this nirvana, as every nirvana, is difficult to bear, so we want you to share your experiences with us and to network with us, we are a huge family around the world, we are the family of travelers, expats, dreamers and searchers. We are many and different from each other, but we can also, for a sec', for the time of a post reading, be one.

Follow us, send us your ideas and posts; share with us your experiences and feelings. And we'll do the same with you.

Stay tuned!

E