A decade ago, when I first came to Canada, I had a huge case of culture shock. I didn’t even know what culture shock was, but I know I was shocked. I recall friends telling me that I would experience this phenomena. Many of them had not even been anywhere outside of the country, but somehow they just knew I would experience it. They told me of stories of their friends and relatives that they knew of.
And sure enough, I experienced it. All the time. Little things made me acutely aware of the different world I had suddenly become a part of. Nobody explains to you what culture shock really is. Your senses become heightened to all things different. You start to wonder about things you never wondered about before. You question things. Eventually you give up understanding some things and just shrug your shoulders in acceptance…or is it defeat?
Some things are laughable and I remember snickering a few times when I saw certain things. It really got me in stitches the first time I saw a group of grandmoms in an aerobics class at a gym close to where I lived. My grandma would have had a few hilarious things to say about that. Even though her health would have benefited from an aerobics class, she would have had plenty to say about how she would never be caught wearing our skimpy gym outfits. How can we possibly expect her to be lifting weights and moving around in the name of exercising? That would have been culture shock for her!
Some things annoyed me. Like the 10 year olds that got on the bus and stared at you…willing their eyes to levitate you from your seat so that THEY can sit down. My mom would never approve of me sitting if a person 5 years my senior was standing! It’s a no-brainer…right? No, not really.
I initially found it very surprising that people wouldn’t move to the back of the bus in spite of the number of people waiting to get in. Even when the bus driver’s notice to ‘please move to the rear of the bus…please move to the rear of the bus’ was announced over and over again, these people would be immovably glued to their spots with earphones plugged in, some electronic gadget and a mile between them and the next person. I find it difficult to fathom how aloof the people inside can be even when the people outside are gesticulating wildly and imploring them to move so that they can board. I have been on both sides of the bus and when inside, I have moved. Occasionally, there has been that outspoken person that has yelled at people to move or the bus driver that has refused to move until the passengers make room.
I think of how crammed the buses back home get…and now that shocks me! Yet there is always room for one more even when somebody’s body part is in your face…or your rib. Woe unto you if they haven’t showered, won’t open the window, or decide to partake of some pungent smelling food while on board.
Learning how to dress up was quite an experience. I grew up naturally wearing large or extra large t-shirts. It was ‘normal’ to wear a t-shirt that went down to your mid-thigh and whose shoulder line was almost down to the elbow. The brothers were never allowed to stumble or appreciate.
My first summer job was at a camp. Part of the job perks involved getting a t-shirt with the summer’s theme emblazoned on it. I loved those t-shirts. I asked for an extra large t-shirt like I was used to. We also had to take a group picture wearing the t-shirts that we acquired. I recall another staff member asking me if there were no more t-shirts in my size. I was slightly bewildered. What did she mean ‘my size’? She took it upon herself to get me a small size t-shirt and said that there was one left – as if I was wearing an extra large t-shirt because there were no t-shirts in my size. Slowly, my dressing shifted.
The dressing situation became apparent when I traveled home. I got irritated plenty of times when it was subtly suggested to me to don a shawl or put some tights on or find something with long sleeves. I seemed to be going through an inspection every time I left my room. The look. Then the suggestion. It would be followed by an optic nerve-damaging-eye roll then an attempt to find something else to wear. Then I just gave up and resorted to wearing jackets on very hot days after going through all my medium size t-shirts.
lizash1's Blog 