Top 5 Reverse Culture Shock Moments

Today marks the first post I’ve written since returning to the States. I don’t know if I’m going to write regularly on Mondays or not, but I just figured I should get the ball rolling, regardless of whether I’ve established a weekly schedule.

Befor eI start today’s Top 5, let me tell you briefly about my trip home. I had booked my train so that I would have 5 hours at the airport. You’re supposed to be there 2-3 hours in advance anyway when flying internationally, and I figured I could use the rest of my time to buy myself some lunch, exchange my remaining euros for dollars, etc. The day was off to a great start as well, because a lovely French couple had given me a ride to the train station in their minivan (which was amazing because a national holiday prevented the buses from running when I needed them to). I sat down in my seat, got everything settled, and set off on what should have been an hour and a half train ride. However, twenty minutes into our voyage, the train stopped, the conductor came on the intercom and told us there would be an indefinite delay due to an accident on the rails. About 15 minutes later the same conductor came on and told us the delay would be at least 2 hours, at which point we began to see the police and firemen arriving. A French girl with whom I was talking told me she thought she recognized some of the policement as forensics people, so she figured there had been a death. I agreed, because I figured it wouldn’t take them over two hours to move an injured person off the train tracks, even if they had been worried about a neck injury or some such thing. After people began to gossip, interrogate the train conductors and circulate hearsay, the general consensus became that a man had jumped onto the tracks in order to commit suicide, and had been run over by our train. This was supported by the fact that all of the policemen and firemen who arrived kept walking back to the rear of the train. Anyway, our train was over 3 hours late, leaving me around an hour and a half to make my flight. The problem was exacerbated by the fact that the one screen indicating the gate and terminal in my flight was having technical difficulties and blacked out. After 20 minutes of asking assorted airport officials for help/information with no success, I went back to the screens, where my flight had moved up one screen. So with a little less than an hour before take off, I ran across CDG airport with my 125 pounds of suitcases plus my guitar and laptop, and arrived just in time to check in, make it through security, and board without a bite to eat. Since my flight left at 2:40pm, and I had had breakfast at 8:00 am, I was, needless to say, fairly famished. Fortunately the amazing flight staff hooked me up with a second lunch after everyone had been served (here is my shameless promotional plug for American Airlines — although they lack the personal viewing screens you find on United flights, the stewards/stewardesses are amazingly friendly and helpful).

That flight brought me back to the good old US of A, which brings us to today’s topic: Reverse Culture Shock. As a traveller, I have never been particularly prone to culture shock (in either direction), and I can’t say I’m in a great deal of shock right now. However, there were some things that did surprise me somewhat, and I felt that they were worth mentioning. And here they are:

5. Jetlag

This may sound funny, but I was actually shocked by how little I was affected by jetlag this time around. I know that going East to West is always easier for me (given that you have a long day rather than losing an entire night), but this time was ridiculously easy. The first night I arrived (in spite of a long crazy day [see train suicide story above]), and a failure to get any sleep on the plane, I was able to stay awake until almost 11 pm (almost 6 in the morning France time). I slept in until 9:30 am, and was able to stay up until 1am the following night after going into Chicago to see Wicked (which is a fairly decent musical, certainly recommendable for those of you who are fans of that kind of thing). I have not had any restless nights since my arrival, I have not been overly fatigued, I’ve hardly missed a beat. I think this may be due to the fact that I completely wrecked my sleep schedule partying until 5 or 6 in the morning in Scotland, followed by a few slightly tamer party nights in Le Mans. I’ll have to keep that in mind for the next time I go to Europe.

4. The Sun

Have any of you guys (and by you guys I mean specifically my American readers) ever noticed that the sun in the United States is really really ridiculously bright? I noticed it on my ride home from the airport, and the morning after my first night here. I now remember why they invented sunglasses and sunscreen. They don’t have that kinda thing in Europe. My parents used to call an overcast day with light rain “Belgian sunshine”. In Le Mans it rained every other day. I suppose I might just be getting more exposure to the sun now that I’m in the suburbs, where you have no 6 story buildings to give you shade, and car windshields amplify the glare of the sun by reflecting it directly into your eyes. And as intense as the sun is in the north suburbs of Chicago, I’m sure that I’m probably lucky that I didn’t fly back to a place like Phoenix. Anyway, I kinda miss the perpetual protective cloud cover in Europe. I could almost relate to my friend Jon, and his seemingly illogical aversion to the sun. But then I remember that he’s just contrary, and no one in their right mind would agree with him. Get some sunglasses, wuss.

3. The Missing Television

They say that reverse culture shock typically results from your expectation that things will be the same as they were when you left, only to find that they are not, either through a change in the actual state of things, or a change your perception/world-view. I believe this is an example of a change in the actual state of things. As I recall, there was a television in my basement when I left the country to go to France, and I certainly hope that its current absence is not a result of my changed world-view. Yes, it may be true that I lived for 7 months in a studio in Le Mans with no television, but that doesn’t mean I’m totally used to life without TV! I must admit there are still three other televisions in my house, but one of them is in my parents’ room, so that doesn’t count, and none of them can fill the void that has been left in the basement (that is, unless I commandeer one and move it to the basement, but as it is my parents’ house, I don’t feel I have the authority to do so). But honestly, what kind of American family has no television in their basement? There is a dvd player and two nintendo systems waiting for something to validate their presence. There is a receiver, two giant box speakers from the 70s, and a pair of car speakers that I helped install in the ceiling waiting to cooperate in glorious surround sound with a screen that could display NBA playoff games or an epic film (my brother and I previously hosted a 12-hour Lord of the Rings marathon in this very basement). Plus, the basement is the coolest part of the house, and a welcome refuge in the dog days of summer. The lack of a television in this otherwise killer basement is an utter travesty. It’s like a kitchen without a refrigerator — it’s simply not done. I may only be living here temporarily; as a 23 year-old college graduate, one might hope that I would move out into the world and establish my own residence. Regardless, when you come “home”, you expect certain comforts to be there, like your bed, your old high school sports trophies, your cozy pair of slippers, and the kick-ass basement with a surround sound entertainment center built around a 30-inch television that you helped to build. I’m just saying.

2. Menards

Upon my arrival, my family was in the beginning stages of some construction on the back of our house (apparently having nice stairs that lead down to the yard and match our patio are more important that having the sweetest basement of all time). Anyway, my second day here, I went with my brother to a local hardware store called Menards to pick up some building supplies (mostly bricks). Entering the hardware store, I was immediately reminded that I was in the US. First of all, they were playing country music on the radio in the store. I hadn’t heard country music in 7 months, save for the bluegrass that I have on my itunes, which isn’t really the same thing. I certainly never heard country music on the radio in France. I recognized one of the groups as Rascal Flatts, and I had a nagging suspicion that one of the other songs was by Toby Keith (to be fair, I probably just assumed it was him because I thought the song sucked). The music reminded me of my French students, who asked me if all Americans listened to country music. I couldn’t help but think as I walked the aisles of the hardware store that in America, even if you don’t listen to country music, you might not always be able to avoid hearing it. Not that I’m trying to avoid hearing it or anything. I love bluegrass, and Faith Hill is hot. The Dixie Chicks, not so much, but I admire the political stand they took, and the music they make, even though I don’t listen to it, I respect the fact that they’re making it.

Oh, and in addition to the country music, the store was filled with other American things, like barbecue sauce, and beef jerky. You just can’t get those things in Europe. It made me want to buy a bag and a bottle, and have an all-American snack of MAN meat smothered in freedom sauce all the way home. (Important note: when I say “MAN meat” I’m not trying to imply anything homo-erotic). Oh, Jack Links and KC Masterpiece, I’ve missed you so.

1. The Missing Pooch

Speaking of things changing from how you remember them, there is one thing missing from my parents’ house that I miss even more than the television in the basement, if you can believe that. His name is Darby, and he was the best dog in the entire world. In this case I think that my perceptions have a lot to do with the “shock”, because Darby’s been dead since October of last year (I even wrote a blog post about it). I came home over Christmas, and I knew that he wouldn’t be at home when I came back this time. However, when I brought my suitcases in, I found myself trying to avoid his water dish in the laundry room, even though it wasn’t there. My first morning here, after waking up in my bed, I went downstairs in my underwear, half-expecting Darby to be lying on his favorite couch. Now if I sleep in until my parents go to work, the house is totally empty. There used to always be at least one other being there. If I had nothing else to do with my day, I could take him for a walk, or cuddle with him while I watched Sportscenter. Now, there’s a just an empty house. This is probably the closest feeling I’ll ever actually have to reverse culture shock, as the study-abroad programs describe it, because everything else I can simply laugh off, or fix by putting on a pair of sunglasses. But I guess that’s what shock is, right? A change that you just can’t bring yourself to accept or adapt to?

Well, that was a nice depressing finish to the first of my USA era posts. Trust me, my upcoming posts about Switzerland and other Europe travels will be much more lighthearted. Until then, stay clear of Toby Keith. Man, that guy sucks. Tootles.

Moral Question of the Day

Hey y’alls, it’s been a while. I’ve been travelling out and about, first in Switzerland, then in Scotland, so I haven’t had a lot of time to sit down and write (actually, I think my last post was from Switzerland, but that’s why it was so short). Anyway, this will be the last blog post I ever write from France (or, at least for a long time), so hopefully it will be pretty special. Or maybe it won’t be special at all. We’ll see.

Normally, I would mark a special occasion such as my departure from France with a special Top 5 (that, of course, being the greater theme of this blog), but I’ve been neglecting to write about a Moral Question of the Day that I’ve been thinking about for a few weeks now, and if I don’t write about it soon, I just might forget about it, and that would be a real shame. Other Top 5’s (such as ones about Switzerland/Scotland/traveling in general will follow, although I can’t say exactly on what schedule at this point since my 3-hour work breaks at my job in France no longer exist. Anyway, without further ado:

Today’s moral question comes from my brother, who was inspired by a discussion in a med school class. Copied and pasted here is what he recounted to me in an email:

i know you do some moral questions of the day, and today during a medical ethics lecture, I heard an interesting one. Some catholic doctor guy asked, “If you do something that you know is wrong, what defense do you have?” and “Have any of you ever done something you knew was WRONG?” Implicit in his questions is the belief that people make wrong decisions. I asked him if he believes that people actually believe that they are making wrong decisions at the time, or if it is possible that people find out that they made a wrong decision after facing the consequences. My example to him being a kid getting a cookie from the cookie jar because he wants a cookie (makes sense), then finding out it was WRONG after he was punished. He ignored it mostly, but i think it is interesting. Or, you could have the example of someone cheating. He or she may know that it is WRONG, but the belief that he can get away with it, and his desire to have sex overcomes that knowledge, so that it seems like the right decision at the time. Aren’t all decisions based on some amount of uncertainty, and then the KNOWLEDGE of being WRONG based on the eventual outcome?

Well put, sir. Here are my thoughts:

I am in full agreement with you about the fact that all decisions comprise a certain degree of uncertainty, otherwise, they wouldn’t really be decisions (For example, there is no uncertainty that you need to breathe in order to live, and thus breathing is not really much of a decision). Knowing whether something is right or wrong at the moment when you make the decision is not a luxury that many of us have, which is what has led to all of the cliches about hindsight being 20/20 and so forth (for the record, I believe that hindsight can sometimes be just as biased as foresight, especially with regards to religious people who say things like, “See? God is punishing you”.)

However, with regards to the belief that people make wrong decisions, I wouldn’t hasten to rule anything out. From my point of view, I have done many a thing in my life that in hindsight is clearly wrong. Did I know at the time I was making the decision that it was a bad choice? Most of the time I would certainly say no. However, one of the decisions that comes to mind was a case where I realized what I was doing was wrong while I was in the process of doing it. The problem was I hadn’t really thought about the choice before I made it. I was so preoccupied with what was enjoyable that I didn’t stop to think if my actions would hurt anyone. So, in the context of your professor’s question, I did something that I knew was wrong, I just didn’t stop to consider the fact that it was wrong until I was already in the process of doing it.  Consistently with the point you raise, however, as soon as I thought about what I was doing, and considered the fact that it was wrong, I stopped doing it, which points to our natural inclination to steer away from things that we believe are “wrong” or inconsistent with our morals.

That example, however, only covers me — I would be hesitant to speak to the motives of other individuals, or people in general. I can speak from observations about their behavior, but it is difficult to derive intention from action. For example, say that I have a friend who is hurting my feelings. I can say to myself that what they are doing is wrong, because it hurts my feelings. I can infer that if this person considers me a friend, he would try to avoid hurting my feelings, and thus consider actions of this kind as “wrong”. However, is the friend in question aware of the fact that he is hurting my feelings? Is the friend acting in an anomalous way due to unforseen circumstances? The friend might not realize he was hurting my feelings until I tell him so (the “consequences” of this scenario), in which case he will deal with this information accordingly (hopefully and apology or explanation of some sort).

This would point toward your possibility that people don’t realize their choices are wrong until they have seen the consequences. But what about decisions that don’t directly affect those around us? For example, I buy things from Wal-Mart. After having attended a liberal arts university, and hearing about the atrocities of Wal-Mart (e.g. its gender inequality, its detrimental effects on small businesses, its exploitation of foreign sweatshop labor, etc). I continue to shop at Wal-Mart. That is a decision that I have thought about, and continue to make, even though I question the morality of the decision that I am making. Like you said, there is a degree of uncertainty, but when I look long and hard at my decision making I think it boils down less to uncertainty and more to convenience taking precedent over moral causes that are somewhat far-removed from myself. Wal-Mart has never driven anyone I know out of business, and while I attended the lecture of the 2 sweatshop workers at Denison, I feel no closeness to sweatshop workers, so while I can see the moral validity of the “boycott Wal-Mart” cause, I have not championed it, because it is not close to me, and thus not high on my priority list. I would say it is more of a matter of laziness rather than uncertainty.

Laziness brings to mind another example — procrastination. To be fair to procrastination, it is not that dire of a sin. No one is really harmed by it, save for the person who sets out to undertake it. But how many of us have had an important paper to do, and in the midst of playing a video game or watching a television program announced to the room, “Man, I should really be working on my paper,” only then to continue sitting in front of the television, not working on the paper? The announcement seems almost disingenuous, because if we really believed deep in our hearts that we should be working on the paper, we would probably be working on the paper. We have forseen the stress and loss of sleep that the procrastination will engender, yet we persist in procrastinating anyway? Granted, stress and loss of sleep are not that great of evils, all things considered, and sometimes the consequences of procrastination are an A+ on a paper, so again I must state that this is a moral example that must be taken with a grain of salt.  However, I  still think that sometimes laziness can overtake morality, at least for some of us.

My next example relates to “Bad Boy” appeal. What about people who do things that they thing are “naughty”, or “wicked”, or “nasty”, knowing that this excites them? This point of view is generally summed up in the Billy Joel song “Only the Good Die Young”. In one of the verses, he sings, “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints; the sinners are much more fun.” Now, one could take this song as a stab at religion, but what if some people actually believe that it is somehow more fun/sexy/spontaneous/exciting to be “bad” or “wrong” than it is to be “good” or “right”? This could just be an issue of semantics — an indiosyncrasy of our religiously biased terminology and lingo in an increasingly secular world. People could be saying that things are “naughty” when the implied “naughtiness” has little to do with their personal beliefs. Like when we ask people if something is “kosher” when we mean to ask if it is ok to do; this has nothing to do with being jewish, it is just a figure of speech that people like to employ in commonplace situations. However, I do believe that there are people out there who are excited by the prospect of morally questionable actions — it’s not called “temptation” for nothing. Back to your cheating example, a married man or woman might know that it is “wrong” to cheat, and while a great deal of the excitement of cheating may come simply from the sexual pursuit, there may be an added element of excitement inherent in the cheating that comes from the fact that the cheater is being “bad”, in which case I think it would be hard to deny that someone did something that they knew was wrong.

This question is difficult to answer, though, because it deals with notions right and wrong, which is often largely subjective and difficult to define. Granted, there are the standard stereotypical responses, (killing is wrong, lying is wrong, helping others is right, etc.), but often the “rightness” or “wrongness” of an action is so circumstantial that it is difficult to make blanket statements. The classic example from my philosophy class would runs as follows:

Lying is wrong. Right? Is it wrong all the time? What if you live in 1940’s Europe, and you are hiding Jews in your attic, and an SS officer asks you if you’ve seen any Jews in the neighborhood?

Like you said, a lot of decisions boil down to uncertainty, so it would be difficult to determine for most decisions whether people know with absolute certainty if the decision they are making is right or wrong. I don’t think it is necessarily as black and white as your professor made it sound, and it certainly isn’t a case where people take on the persona of a cartoon villain, and espouse the side of evil for the sake of evil itself. Generally I think that many of our actions are made based on criteria that aren’t “right vs. wrong”. Neitzsche argued in his Geneology of Morals that the concepts of Good and Evil are a scourge on the world coined by Christianity and Judaism. So, yeah, whenever you try to objectively discuss issues like right and wrong, subjectivity can get in the way, and things get complicated. Probably more complicated than your ethics professor wanted to get into with you. And again, I think that it is a distinct possibility that people do make decisions that they know are wrong. So while it may have been rude of him to dismiss your question, your professor may have been coming from a respectable position.

Well, that wraps up my last French post. I’m gonna miss you, Le Mans. I’m even gonna miss all of your ugly, ugly tramway construction. Okay, maybe I’m lying a little bit; I probably won’t miss the tramway construction, but we’ve had some good memories, haven’t we? Sure we have. While I may be on to bigger and better things, Le Mans will always be the setting of a special chapter of my life. See you all on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Tootles.

Brief Thoughts on Sarko-Royal Debate

I know I missed Tuesday’s blog, and now I’m in Switzerland, so I’m not gonna write much. But I just wanted to say a few things about last night’s presidential debate between Segolene Royal and Nicolas Sarkozy:

 If I were to vote right now, based solely on the outcome of last night’s debate, I would probably vote Sarkozy, although I wouldn’t necessarily feel too comfortable about it.

My reasoning is thus: Last night, Sarkozy seemed to be the more sincere, pragmatic, and composed candidate. However, he showed flashes of the personality that makes him so disliked among certain French circles. To put it briefly, he sometimes has the tendency to come off as a somewhat bigoted used car salesman. In particular when he confronted the issues of immigration, and the possible inclusion of Turkey into the EU, he clearly showed a Us vs Them worldview that can make a candidate very polarizing (a la George W. Bush).

Royal, on the other hand, seemed very idealistic and emotional, qualities that can be a double-edged sword for a politician. When she was talking about subjects that she clearly cared about, her emotion worked in her favor. On other topics, however, her fervor seemed forced, hackneyed, or dare I say, fake. She also has a somewhat annoying tendency to pause and smile between every three words she says. I think given my pre-debate bias, I might be inclined to lean toward Royal in spite of the debate, but Sarkozy’s economic policies are clearly more far-sighted (albeit a bit cold in the short term).

 I’m out of time at my swiss internet cafe, but I hope these musings are informative to some. See you all soon. Tootles.