You know the movie, a Clint Eastwood classic. It is about a
group of people placing bets on when celebrities will die. Think of it as a
football pool with a twist. Of course, in the movie, the bad guy starts killing
people to assure himself a win. That’s when Clint swoops in to save the day.
Culture shock is something all expats face. It is not just a
matter of a different climate, having to remember not to flip the bird at
moronic idiots in large SUVs who cut you off, or having to remember that going
to the mall in a tank top and shorts is taboo unless it is Friday morning.
Culture shock is facing the fact that everything you’ve ever done and how
you’ve done it will change. Basically…..you ain’t in Kansas anymore.
The first week I was here, I witnessed public tantrums and
hissy fits the likes of which would land someone in the “pink bubble house”
where I am from. I saw normally intelligent individuals start taking photos in
a police station during fingerprinting, something that is a no-no even in the
western world. The fact that it was Ramadan and there was no food to be had
between 9am and 7pm made matters worse. Suck it up baby, you chose to move to a
Muslim country.
When culture shock gets to be too much, people hop on planes
never to return. What causes it to get to be too much? Finding out that
teaching here is not the same as teaching there, missing friends and family,
having to jump through ridiculous hoops and get everything stamped by 20
different people, not being able to find your brand of coffee, having to go to
the doctor for a note to get paid for a sick day AND THEN having to go to the
Ministry of Health to get it stamped, getting locked out of your hotel room for
the third time, and finding out that the way it was done yesterday is not the
way it is going to be done today. The
way you are told to do it today is, of course, different from the way you will
be told to do it tomorrow.
I know people who left after 3 months, 4 months, 8 months, 10
months, and 26 months. Me? I’m still here after nearly 3 years but it has been
an adjustment. Where I come from, snitching is grounds for keying your car or
worse. Here, it has been elevated to an art form….by adults. I actually
witnessed a teacher handing a print-out of a conversation on Facebook to
administration. This was the hardest part for me. When two people have a
problem in the workplace, they work it out between them in MY world. This is
not my world, something I need to repeat to myself regularly. Filling someone’s
car with camel dung is frowned upon. Oops, my bad.
You know you have finally adjusted when you meet that
Newbie, the one complaining about how this and that is being done. You
empathize and then calmly explain to her that this is just the way it is here.
As she is arguing about how wrong that is and giving explanations of why she
blew a fit in administration last week, you smile and calculate when she is
getting on that plane. Dead Pool anyone?
