The minute I land at a new place, I always feel that thrill crawling up my spine, the anticipation and excitement of travelling bubbling up my chest. Stepping outside, one of the first things I always notice is the people, what they look like, how they are dressed, the way they talk, and many more unique characteristics visible in just a glance. It’s just amazing how the differences between my culture and this strange one appear so starkly. I always become infatuated with the language, food, clothing, and most of all, the queer little habits only noticeable through interaction. I have visited countries where the left hand is considered impolite, where shaking your head means yes, and chicken feet are considered a delicacy.
In Japan, for example, I was dining with locals when a young man sitting next to me burped loudly. I laughed, thinking it was a joke, but everyone stared at me, and one of them was kind enough to explain that burping shows appreciation for the chef’s cooking. I still shake my head and laugh at this experience until today, always in awe of how strange we find small foreign habits.
After a while, however, all of this strangeness gets old, and this is when culture shock comes in. I become frustrated with the language barrier, as I can’t even get orders right. I miss my comfort foods, having enough of eating strange things over and over again. I never get the transportation system right, I walk on the wrong side of the road, I keep getting stared at, and I always feel uncomfortable. Basically, I’m tired of always feeling left out and not understanding what is happening around me. Culture shock comes at random times, and I start to have thoughts about coming home. Then I always remind myself why I travel in the first place. The culture is why traveling is priceless, the experience of newness, stepping into a world I have never seen before. I have the privilege of meeting people behaving in a completely different way from my neighbors back home, even though really, we do not live so far apart. At this stage, I need to adopt a childlike mindset, one that never gets tired of exploring. I take pride in becoming the stranger, and I try to see positive things in the local habits. I might even adopt a few quirks that actually fit my lifestyle.
Slowly but steadily, I adapt, I socialize, and I learn, relentlessly. I favor my right hand, I try burping, I shake my head, and I eat chicken feet at the local diner! That’s the thing about culture shock, it allows me to see myself from a different perspective, and I learn more about myself in a few days than I would in a year back home. I can become a child again, in an entirely different place!
The next thing I know, I am actually enjoying myself. I survived, and I love it. I have been through this over and over again, and I cannot wait for the next time I can travel to a new place and experience culture shock yet again.
