A Much-Needed Return Home

I apologize profusely to you, my friends, who have been so patiently waiting these past two months for any word of what exactly I have been doing. To be totally honest, I have not done much since my last blog that was posted all the way back in August. In that time, I have been leading a few teacher trainings, guest teaching, meeting virtually with the new Fulbright English Teaching Assistants in my portfolio, and working on the visa process to ensure that I’m not deported from the island. As I have told you before, life here has become normal and mundane. Thus, what may seem unusual and noteworthy to you, has become utterly bland for me. In a lot of ways, I see things now that would make your head spin, and I say to myself, “Meh, that’s how it is. What else is new?”

I did, however, make a brief stop in America for a much-needed break. I have lived in Madagascar for more than 10 months now, and the beginning of December will make it a year since I established my home on the Red Island. There is a phenomenon when one has lived abroad for a significant amount of time and then returns to one’s own country. It is called reverse culture shock. And as the name implies, it is exactly the same as normal culture shock, which I wrote about almost 10 months ago, but in reverse. It is when what is normal in one’s home country suddenly feels off, strange, and a little bizarre. Indeed, I noticed a lot of things about America and Americans (that’s you, the majority of those reading this) that I never really thought about. Let me tell you about it.

First off, I haven’t worn a seatbelt in 10 months. Do you have any idea how drilled into your head it is to put on a seatbelt when you get into a vehicle? The first thing you do is put on your seatbelt. In fact, there’s an annoying little light that blinks and screams at you if you don’t put it on. In Madagascar, I’m not entirely sure I’ve been in a car with functioning seatbelts. The taxis that start with hotwires or don’t have bottoms to the floors seem to me to be of more concern than having a little leather and synthetic strap that is designed to keep me in my seat rather than launch me through the windshield given a high-speed collision. Actually, I’ve never been in a car going over 45mph in Madagascar, and that was on the flattest and straightest “highway” in the country. Here in the capital, you’re lucky if you hit over 25mph. Needless to say, when you’re averaging 10-15mph on bumpy and pothole speckled roads, the necessity of a seatbelt seems superfluous, particularly when the impact at such a speed most likely wouldn’t even kill a pedestrian.

Second, Americans are awkward in public. No, really. Americans are extremely awkward in public. It is as if the entire United States doesn’t know how to behave or act when there are strangers around. And we Americans cope with this situation by trying to be silly or funny. For instance, I was at a coffee shop while home where one of the customers was waiting for their order. He started chatting with the cashier who wasn’t doing anything really. It was a normal, casual conversation that wasn’t really about anything. Or, I went to Target and got some command strips to help decorate my apartment (I have been using wooden clothespins and duct tape because that’s the best I had) when the cashier asked me, “Do you know if those really work? I’ve been thinking about hanging some things up but I’m not sure if they will do the job.” We chit chatted for about 2min. Interactions like that, which I can’t tell if they originate in the need to break silent tension or if Americans just like other people, would never happen in Madagascar. Transactions and interactions between strangers in Madagascar are just that, transactions between two or more people who don’t know each other and won’t know each other unless they’re regulars.

Or take this example, two people are walking towards a door and they both realize that the estimated time of arrival is near an equilibrium. What do they do? “After you,” one says with their hand outstretched. “No, no. After you,” says the other with the same stiff arm suspended in the air. “I insist,” replies the first. “Please, after you,” counters the first. This interaction continues for at least 30-45 seconds until one of them is humble enough (or arguably impatient) to accept the charitable gesture of the other. This is universal across America. And people like me who, when offered to go first, simply take it and say, “Awe, thank you,” are considered rude. “Why didn’t he offer me to go ahead?” the other thinks. “How rude!” In Madagascar, it is possible that someone offers for you to go first, and you just accept it with a “misaotra”. Or, one person just cuts the other off. Both people go on their way in complete silence and there are no hard feelings.

This leads to my third point which you may or may not already know. Americans are extremely generous but absolutely HATE receiving charity. It’s very true. Americans love to be generous to others, especially when we have the resources to do so, but we also hate being on the receiving end of charity. We don’t like it when others pay for us. We don’t like it when we’re down and someone gives us some cash or does us a favor. We don’t like it when we can’t handle things on our own. It all runs against our national and historical value of self-reliance. It makes us feel weak, vulnerable, and burdensome. In almost all instances, when Americans receive charity from others, we feel an internal nagging that we “owe” that person, even if what we received is a gift, not a loan.

In a lot of ways, Americans have a hard time accepting love, which is the essence of charity. We like to be generous not because we expect something in return, but because we like helping others and expressing our love for each other through a physical means, by which I mean through charity or in the form of a gift. Yet, hypocritically, when we are on the receiving end, which is actually quite often because we are statistically very generous, we feel awkward and uncomfortable. How often do we say, “I’ll pay you back,” or, “There’s no way I can repay you”? This is a deep cultural issue that I think many Americans don’t either realize or recognize as a problem. We don’t know how to receive unconditional love. We don’t like receiving things we didn’t earn. And that’s the crazy part. No one deserves through action or merit unconditional love. It is the choice of the lover, the giver, to love in this way. It actually takes time and a renewal of the heart to be able to receive someone else’s charity and simply say, “Thank you, that is so generous of you. Thanks be to God for your generosity,” without having the internal need to somehow repay them with something of equal value, as if love were a transactional relationship and not a giving to the other person.

Anyways, these are a few of the things I noticed when I went back to the States for my little vacation. Over the past few months, I have been doing discussion sessions with my English students about various American values and cultural norms. You learn a lot about your own culture in doing so. Thus, over the next few months I’ll be writing about the things I have learned about Malagasy culture and American culture throughout my conversations with my students. I’m always amazed at the differences and the similarities. I hope you will find them equally as interesting.

As always, know that you are in my prayers each morning, even when I am too lazy to post a blog. All I ask is that you do the same for me.

May God be praised.