Culture questions and self-knowledge

Incomplete thoughts--October 14, 2010. Heading to Coimbatore again...

Phone is sick and in surgery in Bangalore, spent 4 hours (plus one other person doing the same) with customer help, felt sick—no sleep for weeks, night sweats—still not much help on the ground here. I feel fine now.

Culture
What is it and what defines it? Can talk about the easy stuff—the institutions, the food, the traditions. However, the role of it inside the individual and how it affects their outlook and life is a wholly different matter. We usually see culture when it is in collision—trying to understand why the standard for punctuality is different, for example—but rarely do we take a look at our own culture as the source or at the very least a contributor factor, of that collision. It seems that this lack of awareness of our selves leads to conflict, but we lack the ability or practice to see what we are and then make reasoned and clear-minded comparisons. Perhaps this is best seen as the difference between a reaction and an exchange or conversation. The latter leads to understanding—there is a reference point (the self), the ability to or platform to ask a question (conversation), and perhaps then an implied openness to see difference and experience it—the former, misunderstanding and confusion or frustration and even aggression.

So here’s the problem—where do you get the self-knowledge? Where do you learn to understand who you are and what makes you you? We are taught in social studies classes about our history and government, but that seems to be without the necessary reflective component. Sometimes values are talked about, but how is this made to be personal—where does the culture meet the person and how does it resonate or fill them?

When we travel and live abroad, we encounter things that are different and our colleagues look at our behavior and mannerisms and try to make sense of them (is this a boor or just an American—where does the culture end and the person begin?). It’s in this collision that some of what makes our culture apparent—the housekeeping staff’s horror at my reaching for the trash bin under my sink or fetching towels out of my bathroom, my hosts insistence that I sit at the table and not move an inch and allow myself to be waited upon, my reaction at how societal superiors treat those beneath them…

The value that all men are created equal resonated with my sense of justice when studying the American Civil Rights Movement, but I didn’t realize how ingrained it was—a part of my culture and identity—until I came to India. This value of mine bumps up against some cultural and historical obstacles—but I had to think about why it was painful or confusing to see. This reflection—thinking about what it means to be an American—helped me to digest what I was seeing rather than just being horrified or repulsed. It is neither good nor bad--this is not for me to decide--it is different and needs to be understood. It’s the value judgements--repulsion or rejection--that leads to problem like stereotyping (“such and such culture is barbaric…look how they treat x!”) and even conflict. I've started reading more about India--Abdul Kalam's autobiography and Ignite Minds, Sen's The Argumentative Indian: writings on Indian culture, history and identity.

So what makes a culture? What can we take away from situations where we react to differences? How do societies value the individual? What about groups, like families or tribes? What are the gender roles? What about familial roles? What is the relationship of the individual to society? How is property viewed? How are guests to be treated? How does the past influence the present? What are the big events or who are the significant players and how they fit into the consciousness? Which subjects are taboos? What about behaviors?

Stuck between two—range of things have been said to me: we’ll make an Indian of you yet, you are already mostly Indian, now you see the India beyond the exotic, my countrymen fall over themselves when they see white skin (present company excluded for insight? Am I “in” so you can tell me this, or is our friendship suspect?). So what does this mean?

Fulbright experience
Read an article about Greg LeMond today--was waiting for a haircut. He's a local guy in the western suburbs of Minneapolis (I see him occasionally skiing) who just happened to be the first American who won the Tour de France. Forgot that he had been shot in the back and won his second title with 37 shotgun pellets still in his back (including several lodged in his heart lining). This hunting accident also was followed by two surgeries to fix other issues like tendonitis in one of his legs. He was expected to maybe place in the top 20, but he won that year. I think that article was there for a reason--it's not the hardship that makes the person, it is the recovery. Even the small mishaps in our daily lives like a crap day at work or fender-bender or an argument with a loved one—it’s how we recover and what we do differently to show up for those that we care about and be the person we which to put forward. I really think this is what makes us happy—you really live for those whom you care about and must respect who you are. Human beings have an incredible capacity to remake themselves and to control their happiness to a large degree. I was worried about barking at a couple of friends as well as focusing on the negatives of this journey. I got so bogged down in the immediate problems and the stresses that I lost perspective of what was really important both for me personally and for this project. I had a steak and mango ice cream for dinner, then in the morning I made sure I meditated, a worked out, and had some talks with a couple of friends to apologize for being jerky. Recovery attained. The issues that had me bent out of shape were over (one is at least manageable—I hate Vodafone), my friends are still my friends and I am grateful for them, my trip has been an amazing experience. I learned. As a friend pointed out in an e-mail—remember, you are here which also means that someone else did not get the experience. One of my other friends commented that he lives sort of vicariously through my updates. It’s not that I have an obligation to these others to be superhuman, but it did help pull my head out of the mud and really look at the big picture. My wife has commented to co-workers about the conversations that have happened as part of this journey—they are stunned and amazed by them. I’ve seen temples and stunning wilderness, met interesting people, dined on amazing food and learned so much in such a short period of time. How can I be blue over the trivial? Ah, yes—life lesson learned.

In one a text message frenzy today a friend wise friend who has been my guru and patient listener wrote “…if the big things feel like they are not happening, the emptiness and small things have a lot of potential.” When I was in Pondicherry I went through a bout of pretty profound traveler’s melancholy and could feel myself withdraw. This experience in India has had frustrations with housing, some isolation (I arrived, made friends, set up a routine and then we had a 3 week vacation), some issues with my grant and difficulties getting access to research sites. So what do I take away from this experience so far? Well, maybe not to sweat the small stuff as much. I have a choice—explore and realize my time is limited here or hide in my routine and miss out. With the small stuff, I can’t let my irritation get the best of me—I know that I was not good about this at MHS especially as department chair. I let other people’s issues weigh on me and I ruminated over and over about things. I really only hurt myself. I’ve learned to be a lot more outgoing—not really an issue before, but being several thousand miles from home does bring out the more gregarious side for some reason. Found that I am much more of a people person than I thought I was—and I’ve been much more open to others and what they have to offer. Some of this is probably from finally being able to emerge from the stress I had put myself under for the past 10+ years. Really thinking I don’t need to race anymore. I like the competition and maybe I’ll enter a few tris or ski races for that reason, but I don’t really have to prove anything to anyone. I don’t think it made me a better teacher or a better husband or a better dad. It just made me busier and added some stress. Why add more? The other thing that has been made very apparent is how this trip has solidified my place in teaching. In an unfamiliar place, the students are the constant or the connection to what my life in the US was like—they are familiar and grounding. My best moments here have been when I have been with kids or see a student of mine on the street. I’ve been welcomed by other schools and recognized for good work—this helped ease some of the self-doubt and pressure I had been putting on myself for a long time. Teaching last year—especially the ToK classes—was fun. But this feels different. It’s a lightness of being. It seems to hit the big aspects of my being and the work or extra time is not effort it is just done because I can do it. When I was in Pondi, I heard about a former student that was having a rough go with homesickness. This was the time that I was experiencing it myself—traveling by myself, missed my daughter, just coming off some drama, needed routine—and I had just had an amazing conversation with my sister about how she dealt with the same symptoms when she travels alone on research. I sent the student and e-mail talking about my experience and extended an offer to talk if she wanted it. It was not a question of time; it was not a question at all. I had the capacity or ability so it is done.

I seem to have come half-way around the world to learn more about myself as I study how others teach others about learning about themselves (deliberately scrambly). There are a couple of people reading this blog who are probably grinning (do I detect a smugness?) when they read this. I am different now. I’ve perhaps got a better sense of my identity, the meaning of fulfillment and the ability to let go.