Culture Shock

I had heard of speed dating before, but on Friday, Aug 29, I had my first experience of speed friending - an activity arranged for graduate students to meet other grad students as part of the university's orientation.

The picture on the right actually doesn't do the event justice. There were many more people involved (this photo was taken towards the end) and you cannot actually see the time-keepers who kept things turning over at a furious pace. Let's just say that I prefer making friends in a more organic manner.

A three-minute conversation in which you're asked about your country of origin, field of study and some vague interests is hardly going to lead to lasting relationships in my opinion. At least not in such artificial circumstances. (Am I too old school?)

Meanwhile, the kind coordinators of the Humphrey programme arranged a talk on culture shock at the end of last week. Gary Weaver of the School of International Service at American University came to speak to the fellows about adjusting to life in the US. He outlined some of the key behaviours, beliefs and values practiced or held by Americans which might fellows might find conflictual.

One of the more interesting topics discussed was the premium placed on 'doing' in American society. In the US, one's identity is tied up in what one does. Status is earned. This, Weaver argued, is the opposite of certain non-Western societies, which place value on being (status is ascribed). In the US, self-reliance and independence are considered strong and masculine characteristics while stability and dependence are considered feminine. Not surprisingly, I have observed this in the ways in which people - ranging from supermarket staff to university lecturers - almost seem to demand individual performance, even with things as trivial as how fast or slowly I unpack the trolly at the check-out counter.

What I found most intriguing about Weaver's talk, though, was that he reckoned that the hardest culture shock comes with return and reintegration in one's home country. I hadn't even considered this and it is slightly worrying, but it's waaaaaaaay to early to be thinking about this.

Tomorrow's Labour Day in the US; another trip to D.C. awaits.

Other than a jaunt to the National Portrait Gallery last week, I have not been able to get out and about as much as I would like. However, last night I did something really student-y: I hit the town with my "landlord", Tomi, and played a few games of pool. I was a bit rusty but managed to win all four games, which is mildly interesting (I suppose). But the most shocking moment of the evening was receiving the bill when we finished play. It had cost us more than $14 for just one hour's play!

Today I had a hair cut, which cost me a further $15. If you do the conversations into rands - which you should not, but which I do compulsively anyway - these prices will reduce you to tears. Let's just say that things don't come cheap in the land of the free.

Sticking with the theme of commodities and cash: I finally purchased a bed - an el cheapo from a store in the Latino neighbourhood of Langley. I managed to get it for the relatively cheap price of $106. If I had tried to buy a bed anywhere else, I would have had to purchase the mattress, the box spring (what Americans call a base) and a frame separately. Businesses here do try to make a dollar on every item - it's really hard buying a bed all-in-one as is so common in South Africa.

And speaking of beds, it's about that time. G'night.

First Things First

Welcome to my blog, Jolly Good Fellow. If you're here, it's probably because you have shared some level of intimacy with me that goes beyond mere acquaintance. This is a space I will use to record experiences, observations and thoughts during my 10-month fellowship at the University of Maryland in the United States. I have little idea how this blog will take shape over the next little while, or even if it will survive until the end of my sojourn in the US. I do hope, however, that it will help in keeping me in touch with my dear ones on the other side of the Atlantic.


At the time of writing, I am already three weeks into my US visit. Settling in has been slow: after a week of hotel living, I have had to make a small corner of a lounge floor my home (see the image above). I have a lease on an apartment in the bustling Silver Spring area, but it only becomes available in September. Thankfully some fellows - Luisa, of Guatemala, and Tomi, of Indonesia - have temporarily taken me in.

The autumn - er, excuse me - fall semester starts in a week's time, but already the other fellows and I have been enrolled in an intensive course on dual track diplomacy. At first I had little idea what this was about, but after the first couple of sessions I can attest to the value of this thing called dual track diplomacy. In a programme where the are fourteen fellows - each from a different country (Bahrain, Bangladesh, Bhutan, Brazil, Bulgaria, Chad, Guatemala, Indonesia, Kenya, South African, Tanzania, Turkey, Uruguay and Zimbabwe) it might require some rather crafty diplomacy to keep this bunch happy.

It's now around 12:11am as I conclude this entry. Some in South Africa may in fact be rising at this hour. Be cool.