Shifting Spaces
Medical Authority
by Eileen Smith
People who know me in person know that I really dislike misinformation. Far worse than an uninformed person is a person who is misinformed. And a person significantly worsens my faith in him or her if he or she disseminates misinformation. But what is misinformation? How do I know what is really true? How is my source of information better than anyone else's? Well, for one thing, my source of information is usually more akin to a major world media source than, for example, to Parade Magazine. Read more.
El otro 11 de septiembre
by Eileen Smith
Today is a weird day downtown, with every new arrival to the office asking, "how is it outside? How is it?" We are not suddenly preternaturally concerned with the weather. Rather, we are asking about the breatheability and be-ability of the air. Today is a red-letter, pacos (cops) everywhere, tear gas kind of day. It's September 11th, Or more appropriately, el 11 de septiembre. Long before the Twin Towers were decimated and the United States was galvanized into its war against terror, September 11th was an important day in Chilean history, in Latin American history, and in human history. Read more.
On Top of the World
by Eileen Smith
Due to a string of coincidences and happenstance, northern hemisphere dwellers are in charge of everything. They are right-side up, and we, in the southern hemisphere, are upside down. North is supposed to be cold, and south is supposed to be hot. A southern exposure in your house gives you warm afternoons. Christmas is cold, and with luck, snowy. July and August are broiling. October brings the turning of the foliage, and attendant leaf-peepers. Universally accepted, and always true. Except here. Read more.
The Smell of a Country
by Eileen Smith
Chile smells. I didn't notice it at first, because when I arrived in Santiago it was April, a month that comes after at least five months of drought in the "metropolitan region," more or less smack in the middle of the length of Chile. At that time of year, the smells are subtle and I couldn't get a feeling for them with my April nose, fresh from the United States, piqued for every flower, every pollen mote, every sign of spring. When I arrived in Santiago, I thought, "this place has no smell." Strange. Read more.
Minor Celebrity
by Eileen Smith
Chileans, from the very cultured to the very huaso (country folk) have usually not met too many foreigners. We bichos raros (literally: odd bugs), particularly those from the northern hemisphere, are a curiosity and Chileans tend to want to check out how we function. Is it true what they've seen in movies, about families, jobs, money, morals? It is hard to swallow the idea that we gringos come from a multi-faceted society where my experience is not your experience, and your interests are not my interests. The idea is difficult to fathom, both because the Hollywoodization of American culture leads to a pretty two-dimensional view of us neighbors to the north, and because conformity is a bit of a national pastime here in this thin strip of land, sandwiched between the inhospitably cold Pacific Ocean and the nearly impassable peaks of the Andes. Read more.
Cultural Seasickness
by Eileen Smith
I have been to places that are really different from places I have called home. Smack you in the face, loud and clear different. Japan, for example. Japan just looks different from the United States. Different colors, different writing system, different kinds of establishments, from the pinball-like parlors to the capsule hotels. Throw in a temple or bright pink bulldozer, and you've got clear visual cues. You're not in Kansas anymore. (A place I admittedly have only been once, but you get the picture.) Read more.
Homeward Bound
In a little over a month, I will be going back to New Zealand. I've been counting down the days since about April last year. One might infer from this that I have not been enjoying myself here in Korea and can't wait to get home. The first is a lie, the second a truth. This is the longest I have ever been away from home, far surpassing the two months spent in Europe eight years ago. Read more.
Technology--a Korean's Best Friend?
Before I came to Korea, I was under the distinct impression that it was something like Japan with regards to technology. You know, every house equipped with a giant LCD screen television and every kind of electronic goody you can think of, including DVD player, video player, computer, stereo, any game console you can imagine, cellphones, and MP3 players. You name it, they have it. Read more.
Customer Service, Korean Style
To start with, I'll make one thing clear. I've never had the joy (misfortune?) of working in retail. I've never had my paycheck rely on how many things I've sold. I don't really know much about sales tactics. However, as an ardent shopper, I have some idea of what I think good sales tactics are. Read more.
Fanatics, Confucius, and Duty: A Guide To Koreans
Before I came to Korea, I was told by people who had been here that Koreans are incredibly friendly and polite people, so I arrived here with the idea that people would be helpful and nice. And they are! Even if you can't speak a word of Korean, it's very easy to find someone to help you by using hand gestures and grunts. Case in point: I was lost in Seoul with my partner and a friend. It was midday in the middle of summer and I was dying of heat. We approached a random Korean and asked for help. He let us use his cellphone to call the backpackers we were trying to find. How friendly is that? The shopkeepers in my town know me by sight now and always greet me enthusiastically and help as much as they can (once again, using hand gestures). Every teacher I have worked with here has been a lovely person and extremely helpful. Read more.
Food Shock
Before going to Korea, I asked a friend who had spent a couple of years here what the food was like. The answer? Hot, hot, and more hot! This worried me a little. I've never been good with hot food. It tends to make my stomach feel a wee bit upset, as well as making my mouth distinctly uncomfortable. Read more.
Culture Shock
I'm from New Zealand, that little set of islands out in the middle of the Pacific, and I've done a bit of travelling in my time. I "crossed the ditch" to Australia with my family when I was 14. I spent six weeks in a German high school on exchange when I was 16. I spent my entire high school career learning about two vastly different cultures, and spent a year of tertiary study learning how to teach English to foreigners. Culture shock was always a big part of my studies. Read more.
I'd Rather Be Shopping
I don't think there's a word to describe the depth of my feelings about moving. Hate is too ordinary. Abhor might work, but it's not quite strong enough. Loathe doesn't have the necessary venom. You get the idea. Moving is not exactly on my top ten list of favorite ways to spend my time. Read more.
My Wonderful Mistake
by Heather Vint
Every time something unexpected has happened in my life, it's become an adventure. Read more.
Feels Like Home to Me
by Abigail Vint
The unpacking of the suitcases. The flopping on your own bed. The collection, washing and distribution of laundry. The adjustment of the indoor temperature. The making of the cup of tea you've been thinking about since you left. Read more.
Shifting Spaces
by Jane Young
Yesterday, my boyfriend Pete and I stood on the side of the road in downtown Guangzhou, China. Six lanes of traffic blew by us, driving in the typical Chinese way--as fast as you can, as aggressively as you can, and most likely, with your fist firmly planted on the horn. The noise was deafening as usual, the air was dense and smelly with pollution as usual, and it was dark. We were trying to grab a taxi home. Empty taxis drove by us, with their lights clearly on. One taxi finally stopped and a Chinese man leapfrogged us out of nowhere, and jumped in the back. Taxi after taxi blew by us, and we had no idea why. Pete and I began to argue. One taxi even slowed down, and as we began to open the door, he sped off. Then just to make it official that this was a bad night, there was suddenly a dull thud to the right of me. I glanced down at the road beside me, and there was a large, twitching rat. I spun around, to see a man standing in front of a restaurant, wiping his hands in satisfaction. Why, I wanted to scream at him, why would you do that? Read more.
Courage in a Can of Mace
by Patricia Perkins
This is the story of the can of mace.
I was in New York City in 1970, leaving the next day for my first trip to Europe. I was alone. I was afraid, but a man I thought I was in love with had jeered at me and said that I was too dependent to go to Europe by myself. Read more.
Alaska Beginnings
by Patricia Perkins
Nobody remembers anymore what it was like to be hitchhiking in America in the 'sixties and 'seventies. Newspaper stories of rapes and murders, the lost children who never came home, the fears of our mothers echoed louder and louder as we got older. Hitchhiking disappeared more slowly in Europe, perhaps because the Europeans weren't so easily convinced that safety and comfort, in that order, were the ultimate values in life. They held on just a little longer to the idea of risk as a kind of refining fire. Read more.
Hungary in a Week
My high school had an exchange programme with a high school in Hungary. You could stay one week with a Hungarian family during which time your Hungarian counterpart would introduce you to the Hungarian culture and life style. We would go to school with them. The next year, you would do the same for a Hungarian. Read more.
Homecoming
Culture shock doesn't just happen when you move from country to country. As a senior in high school I had one goal in life: get as far away from my family as possible. Luckily, my church had a university in Oklahoma, USA, 2000 miles away from my hometown in Oregon, USA. I led everyone to believe that I wanted to go there because I loved my church but in reality I saw it is my ticket to freedom. Read more.
Flight of My Life
It was only six days after 9/11, but I didn't have time to think about terrorist attacks. I was moving to a new country, sight unseen. Death by terrorism was a remote fear compared to the culture shock I knew I would experience. Read more.
Sonnie Looking for Sonny Crockett in Sunny Miami
When I was offered an internship in Miami, I squeaked with joy and happiness. It was certainly a dream come true, a sunny dream full of young and energetic people. Immediately I had vivid images and fantasies of me with Don Johnson (a.k.a. Sonny Crockett--ever noticed how almost similar his name is to Don Juan?) in a tight, pink T-shirt walking on Miami Beach in front of the art deco district. I knew I was up for an experience that would make an eternal impression in my memory--but I never could have known what kind. Read more.
In Search of Adventure
by Helena Blankespoor
Have you ever picked up your life to move to another country? Left everything you know and love behind in search for a brand new adventure? Over the last fifteen years I have done exactly that - moved countries four different times to start fresh and see a whole other part of the world. Read more.