Category: Uncategorized

When I first arrived in Georgia, I noticed how much more family oriented the Georgian people were compared to Americans. I lived in an eight person apartment with one bathroom and three bedrooms, and the family structure was very cohesive, all centered around the head of the household (My host Babushka). As the metrics show, Georgia tends to exhibit less individualism and more uncertainty avoidance than the US, and my experience firsthand revealed it to me. There is little culture of independence and moving out of the house upon reaching adulthood. Job stability and simply working to earn a paycheck to live rather than trying to become a 1%er was much more the norm among the populace from what I gleaned, especially compared to Notre Dame students aiming for wall street. Perhaps because Georgia is such a small and relatively homogenous country, there is also a much stronger sense of community in shared values, national history and ethnography. Since the inception of the US individualism as been one of our most cherished national values, and compared to Georgia I believe we tend to exhibit much more individualistic qualities in terms of acquisition of wealth, family, and more. This goes hand in hand with uncertainty avoidance as Americans are in general much bigger risk takers as individual actors, whereas in Georgia preserving old customs through social cohesion and strong communal families seems to be more normal.

I will say there was a sense of yearning among the youth that tended to be more progressive and Europe-oriented for moving to bigger cities and finding prestigious careers, and in this sense it was more western and individualistic. I wish I was thinking more about these cultural dimensions when I was in Georgia, but I think they have their limitations. Applying numbers to culture seems to me like a very mathematical way of viewing the world, and while useful and insightful I do not think everything can necessarily be measured or “metriczised”. The generalized information definitely led to me making some stereotype, but as I said it is important to understand the limitations of the model and my own capabilities of judgement. I think moving forward whenever I find myself in a new place I will try to better understand how my behaviors and values as an American differs and what that means for how our cultures are distinct.

As I’m approaching the final week of my language program I find myself walking around Yerevan more and more, exploring its corners, committing them all to memory. Every evening after classes I go for a long walk—the kind of walk where a purpose would get in the way.

As I walk I become a part of city life.

This city lives in the evenings. The evening crowd is a city landmark sui generis as it moves through open squares, parks lined with art, and streets where elderly men and women sell fruit out of tired baskets. Everything is open: restaurants, coffee shops, pharmacies, supermarkets. Major city buildings, shop windows, streets both wide and narrow light the way around the city. Strong evening winds rustle the leaves of the many trees that line the streets of Yerevan. Stray dogs come up to people looking for love and tenderness. They lean into open palms as people offer them the little bit of time they have on their way to joining city life. The evening walk seems like a ritual event. Men, women, and children dress up just to roam around this city. This city thrives on their energy. And it’s so safe here.

This city sings in the evenings. There’s so much talent on the streets, both immigrant and native. Every few meters a new artist catches your eye. A young band living on a prayer; a group of older men playing traditional Armenian music on traditional instruments; a young classically-trained man trying his hand at street performance. Music blaring from bars and restaurants: Armenian here, Russian or English there, occasionally Persian in between, as city life and history blend into one. The fountains on the central Republic Square put on a show every evening from 9pm for an hour. Lights, water, music—and every night the crowd is huge as people laugh, talk, and celebrate this city against the backdrop of the National History Museum.

But this city also protests in the evenings. Every few days crowds with banners, flags, and megaphones gather on one of the major streets and make their way around this city. Because while Yerevan lives, Armenians in Nagorno-Karabakh face violence and famine. The lives of Nagorno-Karabakh haven’t been safe, or even guaranteed, in decades. And so few people in the world know of their plight, and even less care. “A tiny place in constant conflict since the 1990s,” said Vice News about Nagorno-Karabakh just a day or so ago. It’s not a tiny place “in conflict”. It’s a place that is home to around one hundred and fifty thousand people—real lives, who have been resisting genocide for decades. Those are Armenian lives, constantly threatened by Azerbaijan who is currently blocking humanitarian aid to the region. People have started dying of starvation and related illnesses. Trucks with food and medicine wait to be let through into the area. But Nagorno-Karabakh lies within the borders of Azerbaijan, and their answer is “no.” So when Yerevan comes out to protest it shouts for those whose voices are silenced by Azerbaijan and the oil money it hands out to critics like ear plugs.

And when Yerevan lives in the evenings, it lives loudly—because it lives in protest.
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“Hearts with one purpose alone   
Through summer and winter seem   
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
The horse that comes from the road,   
The rider, the birds that range   
From cloud to tumbling cloud,   
Minute by minute they change;   
A shadow of cloud on the stream   
Changes minute by minute;   
A horse-hoof slides on the brim,   
And a horse plashes within it;   
The long-legged moor-hens dive,   
And hens to moor-cocks call;   
Minute by minute they live:   
The stone’s in the midst of all.”
—W.B. Yeats Easter, 1916

Rio de Janeiro has been an amazing experience overall. From visiting Cristo Redentor to seeing the cultural patrimony and how it is supported by the Brazilian government, to just meeting incredible kind and open people. It has been a memorable and interesting experience where I have learned how U.S. cultural and Brazilian customs intersect and differ. In doing so I have grown to appreciate where I have grown as a person and as a world citizen and where I still need to continue to grow.

Seeing how much U.S. cultural productions are the rage in Brazil has been interesting. For example, while I still need to see Barbie, there were Barbie-themed foods, pizzas, cookies, and more. Barbie was, for lack of a better word, fetch, in Brazil. People were going to the movie wearing pink, getting their nails done specially for the film. It was in many ways, a mirror to the experience people had with the movie in the United States. Much like the United States this, of course, meant that Oppenheimer received the second billing among fans.

Brazil and the United States share a long history of partnerships and cultural interchange, primarily with the United States cultural products entering Brazil and it is fascinating to watch that in practice.

From U.S. Music to seeing U.S. sports on television, to noticing the presence of Lakers jerseys and NBA fans in Brazil, it is fascinating to think about the links between Brazil and the United States and in many ways the one-sidedness of U.S. cultural presence n Brazil, while Brazil lacks such a cultural presence in the United States

It’s now been about 2 weeks since I returned to the US, and I can confidently say that my jet lag is finally gone. This trip was my first time ever leaving the US, which initially was very overwhelming, but also made it more fun in a sense. I did have expectations going in, but not too many, as I’d never done something like this before. I can confidently say that my few expectations were met, and definitely the only thing to surprise me was the degree to which American culture impacts the rest of the world. Of course, I knew that culture is America’s greatest export, but it still ended up surprising me that it seems almost inescapable, although this does make sense when I think about it further. I learned that there are certainly innumerable cultures throughout the world, although the cultural differences seem to not be equally distributed so to speak. This is to say that when I, an American, speak to someone culturally different, some of their mannerisms or beliefs may surprise me, but the reverse is unlikely to be true. I think this really brought into the picture how much power matters whenever cultures differ. Aside from this, there were some aspects of Japanese culture and society that I liked and others that I didn’t. On a societal level, one of my biggest takeaways was how nice a good train system can be, and how much easier it makes life. On a cultural one, I think I’ve gotten better at not accidentally disturbing others without thinking, as I noticed a much higher standard of respect for not bothering people in Japan. Overall, this experience has certainly changed the way that I think about my country’s policies (and the ramifications of those policies) along with the way that I carry myself when talking to people who differ culturally so that I won’t accidentally make someone uncomfortable. I am very grateful for this trip, and I hope to use the skills I learned going forward to be a better communicator.