Most definitions of the word "shock" include expressions like 'sudden', 'unexpected', 'a violent blow', 'strike', 'a collision', or 'a disturbance'. Put together with the word "culture", it conjures up the image of arriving in a foreign country, stepping off the plane and all of a sudden, you receive an unexpected, violent blow to the head, which strikes you down, resulting in a collision with all the other passengers, thereby creating a disturbance. Perhaps this is a little dramatic! In my experience, the shock doesn't come suddenly. It grows gradually as you learn more about the new culture in which you are immersed and try to come to terms with how to reconciliate it with your own.
The first part of crossing cultures can compare to being a tourist in a new place. It's a time of excitement and discoveries, a real stimulating experience and all senses are heightened. I could take 101 photos of baskets of bread, signs on the street, people sitting on benches, the architecture of buildings, and myself with the typical "insert fabulous holiday background here", all in one afternoon. I noticed the small, curious things. Everything looked exciting and intriguing, a real feast for the eyes. The smells, the culniary delights, the landscapes, the people, their habits, their way of life. It was all so delicious and vividly imprinted in my mind.
And then, like every romance, the honeymoon period comes to an end. The rose-tinted glasses come off and anxieties about work, money, making new friends and fitting in kick in. I remember realising that my few Spanish phrases were not enough to survive anymore and the language barrier seemed greater than ever. I could understand a lot but I couldn't express myself or jump into conversations with ease, so I constantly felt like I was on the sidelines and not a part of something.
With communication being such an integral part of the social beings that we humans are, this is the time you start to feel lonely, isolated and homesick. You retreat into yourself and even walking down the street, sitting in church or doing your grocery shopping, somehow makes you feel self-conscious and that everyone is looking at you oddly because you stick out. The difference between your own culture and this new foreign one triggers fear and anxiety. Small things, like eating supper after 9pm or the shops closing for siesta in the afternoons and on Sundays, which seem so wonderful upon arrival, now seem to be completely irreconcilable with your old habits and you wonder if you'll ever be able to fit in.
Eventually, the weeks and months pass by. The resistance to the new ways of this strange land dies down and you realise that you have adopted many of those habits yourself. Life seems normal and you go about your daily routine as if you'd always done exactly that for years.
By now, I was integrated into the local community and saw how much they appreciated me making an effort with their language and their customs and this appeared to open them up even more. I also realised that I didn't have to change myself completely to fit in. I had blended many of the positive traits of my host culture while keeping a lot of my own, creating a unique blend of identity.
This chameleon-like experience made me realise how versatile the human spirit is and how we can adapt so easily to new environments and situations. There's always going to be a difficult stage to get through but once you do, living in a foreign country can be one of the most rewarding experiences of your life. It is enriching, fulfilling, bewildering and ultimately addictive.
