¿Somos Diferentes?

Spain has a lot to offer, and when I think of Madrid the first thing that comes to mind isn’t exactly a classroom. Sure the Plaza Mayor, the parks, and the discos are classrooms in their own right, although they’re probably not what my parents were envisioning. In any case there came a point when I remembered that classes are also a large part of this experience. Luckily I even remembered just in time to actually make it to my first class- on a Monday at 2:15 in the afternoon. Rough life I know... Viva El Leo.

But if you’re thinking the leisurely timing of the classes degrades any intellectual value you’re mistaken. You can imagine my face when I walk into my first class, Cultural Diversity and Human Needs, not really knowing what exactly that entails, and am told by a man with a red beard, “I’m supposed to teach you guys about cultural diversity, but in fact I’m going to teach you that no such thing exists.” It was a daunting statement. Of course there exists diversity in our cultures, I thought. Look at all the things we do differently. A kid from the Democratic Republic of Congo has certainly had a different cultural upbringing than I, right? Perplexity turns to concentration, concentration to contemplation and contemplation to fascination. A few classes later and I’m fully enthralled. I’m convinced my professor is an intellectual genius. I hang on every word he says. I use one hand to write as fast as I can everything he’s saying and the other to hold my jaw up at the amazement of what he’s actually saying.

  He went on to explain that in the scope of our evolution humans have only been so separated for a minuscule amount of time. So if we have only spent 0.1% of our time apart, how different can we be? Sure we do things differently in our customs, rituals, and beliefs, but at the end of the day aren’t these all just manifestations of the same basic human desires? 

Yeah, heavy stuff.

So here’s little old me just trying to see the world- thinking I’ve already got my particular paradigm all figured out- and I get two of the best teachers Suffolk University has to offer blasting me with new information and ideas that change how I perceive the whole world. They are admirable and inspirational gadflies, probably without knowing, always provoking analysis, reflection, and contemplation. Everyday my eyes open a little more to the world around me. I guess thats college. 

I was, of course, going somewhere with all this... Sitting in the park with all my friends the other day we came to a comical realization. We often go to that very same park and sit in the very same grassy patch and watch the very same four elderly  Spaniards playing the very same, and very foreign, card game. They’re actually quite hilarious to watch- shouting and laughing being all the while unrelenting with their little determined scowls. There’s one woman and three men. It is very clear who’s the boss. On this particular day we stayed at the park after dark, and without our noticing the four elderly people morphed into six or eight young people, about our age, just loitering, lingering over a bunch of bottles of beer and bumping the bass on a boom box. It was funny because as differently as they appeared, they were nothing more than younger versions of the people we had seen earlier, yelling and laughing, pushing each other around with facades of grimaces. In that sense they seemed no different at all, just younger people with the same desires as the older people; to socialize with each other, play some games, and have some laughs. Of course this is when Professor Greenan pops into my head with his affable Irish accent. I came to the realization (also in an Irish accent for some reason- funny how that happens) that not only are these kids no different from the older people who sat in their place hours before, they’re no different than the kids back in the United States sitting on their couches in their dorm rooms doing the same things. 

So maybe it is true that the only differences humans have are the ways in which we manifest our desires. The music might be different, the card game might be different, the setting and the type of drink might be different, but the basic human desire for socialization is the same. We all yearn the simple pleasure of a place to sit with our friends and laugh. Of course if this is true, why do we stratify ourselves so much; emphasizing differences and denying similarities? Maybe in the coming days- which are sure to test our generation- we can remember these similarities more than our frivolous differences, the emphasis of which has plagued the generations of those before us. 

Imagine (Day 1)

Imagine waking up in a different bed, in a different room, in a different house, in a different country. You don’t speak the language. You don’t recognize the smells, the food. You cant even figure out how to flush the toilet. I’ve been doing these things a lot lately. Sounds scary, right? But whats more scary: imagine you’re loving every moment of it. If you’re like me you love trying new food, smelling different smells, and making yourself look like a fool trying to speak broken spanish (or “Spanglish”) to passersby. 

Rewind a couple weeks to the terrified kid I was- waiting at the Suffolk University Madrid campus, feeling a little like an orphan, waiting for my new mother to pick me up and take me home. I had a case of anxiety like you read about. What if she doesn’t speak any english? What if she’s evil!? Luckily only the former is true... As a matter of fact, its only two weeks later and I can’t imagine having another host mother. She makes AMAZING food, she does my laundry, changes my sheets, and even doubles as a Spanish teacher at dinner! (I told her she should be getting a professor´s salary from the school) She never gets frustrated with my shockingly poor level of Spanish, and is always willing to repeat and speak more slowly. What’s more, I have three more siblings to my collection (not to mention another yappy dog my mom would melt for). Their names are Borja, Pedro, and Anna, and although their english is limited, it is much better than my Spanish, and is helpful not only for translating, but for finding a cheap little bar to go to at night, which museums and parks are the most fun, and even which dessert their mother makes the best (and which to avoid). 

So after a couple hours of feeling a little like an outsider intruding upon this family’s life I already felt like a part of it. Their constant barrage of engaging conversation and hospitality made assimilation quick, easy, and relatively painless process. And so here I am, only 2 weeks into a new culture, waking up in a different bed, in a different room, in a different house, in a different country- and I couldn’t be more content. 

PS. If you’re wondering, yes, I did figure out how to flush the toilet.