When I was young my family never traveled.  My parents never left the country. The only trips I remember were a train trip to Florida to visit my grandparents and going from Massachusetts to New Hampshire for a weekend in the fall to stay in a rented cabin.  We were 8 people piled into the car and off we went.  All our meals were cooked in the cabin.  There was no restaurant eating.  This was the culture in my family.  If I wanted to have a bigger life I was going to have to make it on my own.  No one in this family was going to show me the way.

I always went to summer camp and that was my first experience of traveling without my family. My cousin and I went together those first few years and eventually I continued to go alone.  It felt so exciting and I felt free.  Maybe that was the start of my itch to travel. The camp culture took some getting used to.  There were lots of rules and learning about that culture was critical to enjoying my time at camp.

My first trip out the country came when I was 20 and I spent 6 weeks traveling through Europe with a friend.  We moved so quickly from country to country I never even stopped long enough to care about the cultural differences.  I expected everyone to speak English and was frustrated when they didn’t. I was the typical ugly American.

My traveling really began when I took my first corporate job. I traveled all the time. First in the US and then to Europe and Asia.  Since my travel was for work, knowing the cultures of where I was going became not a luxury, but a necessity to the success of my work.  I was a consultant and a management and leadership trainer.  Sometimes I facilitated  3-5 day workshop with participants from several countries with as many cultural differences.  So navigating this was as crucial as the work itself.  I was both excited and scared.  I acted like I was a seasoned traveler to my colleagues, not wanting to seem like such a newbie to the world of travel. I remember once checking in for a flight to Ireland and the woman at the counter said to me “Someone has requested an upgrade for you.  You have been moved to first class,”  My response was “Who made that request?” She had a look on her face that told me to just take my first class ticket and be on my way. When I got on the plane and sat in my very comfortable first class seat I turned to the person next to me and told him how someone has requested an upgrade for me.  It sounded so impressive when I said it.  He looked at me and said “Do you work for a large corporation? The airlines do that to get you to like this mode of travel and they hope your company will continue to book you in the future.”  OK, I wasn’t that sophisticated or that worldly but I was learning.  Once I started traveling to Asia it was the 80’s and we always flew first class. A corporate culture I was learning about all the time.

I’m a fast learner and before I knew it I took an interest in learning about the places I was going and what the cultural differences were so that I could work with my clients without offending and making serious errors.  In my 40’s, 50’s and early 60’s I ran my own business and the international travel increased.  Because it was my business, I could spend a few days before or after the work and experience the culture first hand.  Or at least I thought I was. 

Learning about a culture when you know you are headed home in a week is one thing, living in a place for more than a month or two or a year, is something else.  I have had the good fortune to live in Israel, Mexico, South Korea and now Hungary. The cultures in these countries are all so different.  It is not my culture and it’s not only learning about them, but respecting them, and knowing how to adapt to the things that may be out of my comfort zone. In Israel everyone seemed so uptight and on the edge. My bag was searched everywhere I went, grocery stores and movie theaters. Realizing the existential threat Israelis face every day makes all this seem more understandable and it was easier to adapt.  Being Jewish had an advantage.  I understood some of the underlying cultural norms and they were familiar to me. I also fit in in a way I hadn’t ever experienced before.  I was one of them, whether I agreed with the politics I could engage on a higher level. In South Korea, I adapted to the fact that everything is about the group and not the individual. There is very little individual thinking. Koreans even share all their food when they eat.  There is no individual ordering in restaurants.  All the dishes served are shared, including soup.  A large bowl is placed in the center of the table and everyone  has a spoon.  Yup, the spoons all go into the same bowl.  In Mexico, people are laid back and often seem lazy. Quite the opposite, in places I lived in Mexico the people were extremely hard working.  Yes, Mexicans can be late to meet you but it almost always has to do with a family obligation.  Family comes first.  Hungarians seem so pessimistic and dower.  When I learned about their history – never having won a war they engaged in, being occupied by the Nazis during WWII, and then “liberated” by the Soviets who stayed until the 90”s, their pessimism seems more understandable.  Without living in a country and making my way through the day to day things everyone does, food shopping, laundry, learning the transportation system as well as engaging with shopkeepers, butchers, the bakery, it’s hard to really know a culture. When I go to a new place in a foreign country and I approach a person on the street for directions, or a shop owner or a wait person, I ask “Can I speak English with you?” It seems a bit more welcoming than asking “Do you speak English?” or just launching into English with the assumption that they do, or worse, should.

I’m intrigued when my American friends ask me if I feel safe and comfortable no matter where I’m living.  My response lately is that the culture in the US has taken a shift to a dangerous, gun totting place. We are becoming one of the most dangerous places in the world to live. I also live in a part of US that is probably relatively safe, Maine, Portland, Peaks Island.  This year with all the mass shootings in January and February I’m hesitant to say “It couldn’t happen where I live.”  We have a culture on the Island that has allowed me to not lock my door from the day I moved there more than 35 years ago. The summer changes that culture with the influx of so many people “from away.” Day trippers coming to this small Island and bringing with them their own cultural differences do not always take the time to learn about ours.  I head home in about 2 months and I know that I will have my guard up when I’m traveling in the US.  I will readapt to the culture of my Island. I can only hope that the summer brings people who take an interest in our culture and respect it enough to want to learn and adjust. They may want to ask “Can I speak Peaks Island with you?”

With Love and Gratitude,

Marsha