D.I.V.E.

They say you learn a lot about others and your compatibilities with them when you travel together.

Well, let’s just say I stand by this argument.

During my time in Costa Rica so far I have had the privilege of going on excursions and touring some of the wonders this land has to offer. And in those moments, whether it’s using the public transport or driving around, those different cultural approaches to travelling become more transparent.

Compared to the insanely punctual and the excessive number of directions that Japan places in their public transport systems (and even in general), private knowledge is key in navigating Costa Rica.

Even trying to find the fees of riding certain buses were unclear online and a lot of charter buses only had uploaded their schedules on Facebook or you could only access an updated version by contacting the bus companies on Whatsapp.

Even more so, when my friend and I rented a car we realised that people honk to say thank you or even flash their lights.

But these differences I expected. They seem more obvious or explicit.

Critical incidents I had with people’s preferences and actions while travelling were more enlightening to me.

Now, I want to be careful as I recognise the encounters I have had with a small number of people barely begin to represent the whole population of a country or culture.

But I would like to take this opportunity to complete the DIVE exercise with some of the encounters I had with the other girl who was also home staying at my friend’s home stay during a trip to one of Costa Rica’s top tourist destinations: La Fortuna.

This girl was interestingly memorable to me. Coming from a French background, (northern France that is) she offered us (my friend and I) with some insight (frustrations) on what may be our cultural differences.

This girl was calm, collected, cool even, but it was extremely hard for my friend and I to understand what it is that she wanted. What it is that she was feeling in any given moment.

Every time my friend and I would ask, oh, what did you want to do? would you like to join us? don’t feel pressured to stay! these were answered pretty drily: I’m good with anything… yes I can join you… uh, no it’s okay, I can stay with you guys… (description)

But what did she really want??? Our initial response to these moments were met with confusion and frustrations. We felt very conscious and aware of her presence and felt bad because we could not tell if she was enjoying whatever mischief we were up to. She also did not offer a lot of comments and verbal cues that would perhaps help give us an indication to what she was feeling.

I believe our annoyance with the girl is indicative of a culture that desires to over clarify our consideration for others and in return are sensitive to whether they are pleased or not. And an expectation therefore that we carry for others to then let us in the loop of whether they indeed are pleased or not. (interpretation)

It was hard to verify this incident as she was the outsider in this culture (in Costa Rica). But I did give this a thought. And I wonder if—regardless if it’s just her personality, it is the norm in her culture, or the language barrier making it difficult to fully communicate and express your true personality/considerations—to her it is not that big of a deal to constantly appease others and that you can just be. She definitely felt like the type of person to be comfortable with silence even with strangers. (evaluation)

Overall, reflecting on this however, I feel as though the V in the DIVE model tremendously shapes the usefulness of the exercise… an opportunity to not be stuck in your head… and an opportunity (even if the verification isn’t perfect either) to think beyond the confines of your own thought bubbles, which are likely informed by our own cultural norms and confirmation biases anyway.

An Ríleán

The social scene in Gleann Fhinne revolves around the tavern, An Ríleán. As the only bar for miles in any direction, it serves as the communal watering hole for the residents of this valley. I’ve frequently spent my evenings conversing with the locals and my classmates at the Ríleán, and the place has become a familiar stop in my daily routine. Usually, the venue is relatively quiet, even on weekend nights; it consists of only two small rooms, just large enough to house the local and Oideas Gael crowd.

One day, as we were approaching the teach tábhairne after the day’s activities, we noticed the Ríleán was a lot more lively than usual. Inside, we found a strange fusion of groups. For one, there had recently been a death in the neighborhood (an old lady who had been living in hospice – not an unexpected tragedy, but very sad all the same), and there was a crowd of well-dressed friends and family members who presumably had just come from the wake. Secondly, there was a crew of birthday-partiers. Part of the wall had been decorated with “Happy 50th!” posters and streamers and the like, and one middle-aged (50?) man was laughing at the bar with several friends and pints surrounding him. Thirdly, a crew of high school aged teens who had just completed their final exams were dancing heartily in the center of the room. Finally, us – a slew of language learners visiting from places all around the world.

It was one of the oddest and most fun nights I’ve experienced here so far. Though every person was there for different reasons, they were brought together in the same small tavern. Hearing everyone’s stories and verifying my initial interpretations of the separate parties gave some insight onto the Irish way of life – that commemorating death means celebrating life. Whether you’re coming from a birthday party or a funeral, everyone ends up at the same tavern for some good craic.

¡Nos Vemos!

During my first reflection, I wrote about my travel anxiety, but during my final days in Granada, I wasn’t worried about my trip home, but about how I would say goodbye to an experience that forced me to mature, adapt, and which allowed me to thrive socially and academically. I wondered how I would say goodbye to my friends, professors, and to the city. True to character, I avoided the topic all-together until my very last day, reluctant to confront the ever-looming bittersweet goodbyes. Only then, on my last evening, did I begin to reflect upon how much I had grown throughout the summer. My friends and I climbed to Mirador de San Miguel Alto to gain a bird’s eye view of the city. We reflected upon all our language mistakes and misunderstandings and about our general takeaways from the experience. We said our goodbyes properly, not only to each other, but also to the summer and to Granada, the city that had brought all of us together in our journey to learn Spanish.

I am notoriously terrible at saying goodbye. In fact, at the end of freshman year I “Irish goodbyed” all my friends. Goodbyes are emotionally and physically draining. They require you to reminisce and reflect and finally, to close the chapter. Goodbyes are intentional unlike first meetings which can be spontaneous or unintentional. Although nothing about my study abroad experience this summer could be described as unintentional, I find myself awed at how many things fell perfectly into place to allow for this experience. I wanted to improve my language abilities, received the Summer Language Abroad grant, lived in a beautiful city, met some amazing study abroad friends, and studied with some amazing professors.

Embracing Spanish culture meant learning to let go of my need for control in nearly all ways. My Spanish classes weren’t as fast-moving as I was accustomed to and I worried that I wasn’t learning enough, but I learned that I had no control and simply had to adapt. This skill is one that is not valued in American (big c) culture and certainly would be a detrimental approach to academics at Notre Dame, but this summer I learned to appreciate the process, not just the product. The process of learning a language simply can’t be measured easily and, in all honesty, I think the Spanish approach helped me to improve my language skills in a more natural way. I certainly didn’t recite vocabulary words every day, but somehow, I left the experiences with an increased arsenal of words to describe my daily life. This lesson is one that I hope to bring with me as I tackle the challenges of academic life this upcoming year. The skills I have developed this summer will have concrete uses in the future, but I suspect that they will also prove to be helpful in unexpected situations. I look forward to watching how this experience is reflected in my academic and social life, as well as in my cultural attitudes. Goodbye Granada and thank you from the bottom of my heart!

La Jornada de Reflexión

I first interacted with Spain’s national culture of uncertainty avoidance my freshman year during my Spanish Cultural Conversations and Writing class. During the semester, my class broached many subjects relating to Spanish politics, literature, and art and we learned about the Catalan and Basque independence movement, the Reconquista, the Romani, and Francisco Franco. Our class discussions often centered on “el pacto de olvido” or Spain’s cultural agreement to leave the memories of their civil war in the past, without reckoning with the bloody history. I carried this knowledge of Spanish history with me to Granada and there I found a similar pattern regarding Spain’s treatment of Muslims and Jews and Spanish.

This cultural attitude is also reflected in Spain’s cultural norms regarding politics. On Sunday July 23, Spain hosted their national elections. The Friday before the elections, my professor told our class that politics that the day before the elections was called “la jornada de reflexión”, on which political conversations were banned from TV and in public. The day served to allow citizens to consider the pros-and-cons of political parties and their candidates, without the infectious noise of TV news anchors and public perceptions. When I learned about this custom, my initial thought was that it was simply another way that Spain avoided grappling with national conflict, but as I reflected more deeply I realized that this custom could also be beneficial to the democratic process. Like the secret ballot, this practice allows citizens to consider their political options without social influence. This new perspective helped me consider Spain’s cultural practice in a completely new light.

Although uncertainly avoidance is certainly lower in the United States because of our lack of respect for hierarchies and general openness towards new systems and outlooks, my time in Spain taught me that uncertainty avoidance can also serve to strengthen individual resolve and, at least in theory, it can create space for individuality.