Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Little (big) changes in a new place


I am feeling urged to write today about the small ways in which the culture here is changing me. I am thinking of a daily routine that in small doses doesn’t seem like much, but, added together, entirely changes who I am and what I thought I thought. Let me explain.

Each day when I take Isa to school and pick her up, I get out of the car and go in. I greet the other parents and children and teachers each with a kiss and a quick moment of catching up. They ask how I am doing and wait for a response. Usually everyone just says ‘fine, thanks and you,’ but it seems they are actually waiting for an answer and looking you in the eye while asking.

If you described this cultural norm to me before moving here (getting out of the car and greeting everyone every time I picked up or dropped off from school) I would likely be horrified. I am a skeptic, a loner, a misanthrope, and someone who generally hates superficial pleasantries and small talk.

In the U.S. I find small talk unbearable. Partly, I think, because when people ask you how you are doing there it is often so hollow that answering seems like a trap. Like, if I said happy they might say ‘good for you’ sarcastically (since they are likely struggling in some way or another), or if I said I was struggling myself in some way the American response would be thinly veiled schadenfreude combined with fake concern. And the sheer laziness of not getting out of the car to drop your kid off at school. The insane lengths teachers go to let the parents stay in their car. The long pickup lines with elaborate systems that identify which car belongs to which small child.

I used to think I liked the convenience of the car pickup at school. How nice to not have to get out of the car! How easy. And to not have to speak to any of the other parents. A dream! I don’t want their sarcasm or schadenfreude anyway.  I despise small talk. It is all political machinations, even amongst the preschool parents. Who speaks to whom? Who is organizing the next fundraiser with the celebrity chef and the microbrew food trucks? Will there be mason jar glasses for the beer? That’s such a cute idea, Jennifer! I wish I had your touch! Did you hear that Melissa isn’t going? I mean, she didn’t help organize, but she won’t even go to support her daughter’s school? Some people, I mean, are just so, well you know, I am preaching to the choir here.

But here, I am surprising myself by finding I actually want to get out of the car. In fact, I want to ride my damn bike to school. Of course I haven’t done it yet. But I dream of doing something active, which was the furthest thing from my mind up North. I like to see the other parents and the kids and greet them and ask them how they are. It is very subtle the way in which the culture is different. I think if an ethnographer from a third country came to both places and saw parents interact at school they wouldn’t see much difference besides the besito down here in Uruguay. But it’s something about the eyes, and the smiles, and the way in which people are inviting you in without judgment or as a premeditated way to trap you into a social faux pas.

As a result, I am actually changing who I am. What I think. I don’t look at groups of people with disdain and frustration. I look hopefully and I find myself opening myself to them. I want to get involved. I want to invite people over. I want to go to their events. I am much less lazy or entitled in thinking it is a huge inconvenience to get out of the damn car. It is a privilege to get to be a part of this community. To see them and to be seen. To have the time to chit chat for a few moments, and not feel hurried or stressed by it. My schedule is not so jam packed that I have small margins for error. That is a luxury.

Just another small moment in the life of an immigrant, and in the exploration of the ways in which places and social structures can actually change individuals. That is, change is not only in one’s mind, it is also very often due to external forces. I am happy about who I am becoming. I used to be proud of my loner status. But, guess what?, it made me lonely. I am less lonely now, and becoming less lonely by the day. What a gift. 


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