Pre-Departure – Batumi

The surrounding forest, as though in a mist,
Was blue in the powder of smoke.
But there, far off, in a disordered ridge,
Which was yet eternally proud and calm,
Stretched the mountains

Mikhail Lermontov, “The Novice”

This summer I will set off to Batumi, Georgia for six weeks to study the Russian language. Georgia in particular has caught my eye as a wonderful place to immerse myself in an ex-Soviet country that hosts many Russian speakers. Inspired by the great writing of Lermontov and other authors, I have read enchanting tales of the mighty Caucasus Mountains. I have been swept away by the romantic descriptions of the dominating peaks and verdant valleys of the countryside. The natural scenery of Georgia (from what I have seen) seems breathtaking and I greatly look forward to that aspect. Further, I am thrilled to delve into the rich Georgian culture.

Learning about Georgian culture, I hope to visit as many cultural monuments and churches as I can find. While I am a student of Russian, the Georgian culture goes far beyond its history as a Soviet Satellite and Imperial Territory. I did not know before planning to go there for example, that Georgian is in no larger, widely spoken language family such as Indo-European, and lacks many cognates with other languages. I am also thrilled to try their (from what I have heard) amazing cuisine and wine, and live in a black sea resort town.

However, my purpose of travel is primarily study. As a Russian major with three years of Russian under my belt, I would be remiss if I did not visit at least a semi Russian speaking country during my time at university and gain an adequate level of fluency. In particular, I hope to learn to communicate on a conversational level and talk with the older generation of their experience living in the USSR. I am also keen to talk with my generation to listen to their perspective on life and more, and see a non-western perspective.

To wrap things up, I greatly look forward to this adventure, and hope to learn as much as possible. Beyond the necessities, I hope to limit all ‘screen time’ and read, study, explore, and talk as much as possible. Even if that can be uncomfortable at first, my future self will thank me. I can’t wait to see what Georgia has in store!

First Two Weeks

Before I landed in Tokyo to transfer to Nagoya I had never been outside of the U.S., and because of this, I tried to refrain to the best of my ability from holding expectations. I definitely planned logistics before I came here, although I intentionally wanted the experience to be shocking. I had figured you learn more about the way you actually are by trying not to fight the sense of shock that comes when you are put into a situation in which you have never been before, and I think I was right. I was very tired after my flight, as the trip in total took about 17 hours, which made communication on the first day quite difficult. My host family does not speak any English, which has been great for adapting to another language but definitely made things complicated at first. I remember hearing some linguist say that practicing a language by speaking only really helps dramatically when you can have a conversation about topics beyond a surface level, and I definitely have to agree with this sentiment. In these situations, I have to make a conscious effort to think in the logical order of Japanese (which is often the reverse of English), and I feel like this creates a more “personal”, albeit often frustrating, connection with the language that a set routine otherwise wouldn’t. Definitely the most noticeable thing for me has been the strengthening of the so called “Prison-house of Language”. I would say that I definitely struggle significantly with expressing my thoughts through words in English, and while obviously I can do this even less so in Japanese, there is a sense in which it feels freeing as, well, of course I can’t articulate myself after 1 year of studying. I’ve noticed Japanese can be a rather concise language if used correctly, and thus I think that by practicing concision in a second language I can gain concision in my first language.

My favorite thing so far has definitely been the timeliness of everything, as I would say nothing makes me more frustrated than lateness. The public transit is fantastic and always runs on time, as well as people so far have not been late to meetings. In fact, I would say the biggest “critical incident” so far isn’t a particular incident but rather a prolonged observation of behavior. It is very surprising how much people follow the rules here even when there aren’t really other people around. I live in a pretty densely populated area and I genuinely think I can count on my hands the amount of people I’ve seen walk across the crosswalk when the light wasn’t on. I’ve also yet to seen someone litter despite the distinct lack of trash bins. It seems that people have a much greater concern for the environment and the immediate world around them here, which does make sense and was something I’d heard of. On time this surprised me, however, was when I was hiking up a mountain and I heard a bell constantly ringing. There were a fair few other people on this trail, but I was still confused and wondering if there was a temple nearby. As it turned out, it was another hiker who has small bells tied to his backpack so that they would ring and alert any animals lest he trample on them. I had heard of this before in my high school’s world religion class, as Jizo, a famous bodhisattva, was said to carry a staff with 6 rings on it in order to jingle and warn the nearby animals lest he do them harm. I do not go out of my way to harm nature, but this devotion towards life in my experience is not emphasized, even by groups who claim to care a lot about life, and thus it left me surprised. Obviously not everyone here is this conscious of their surroundings, but this moment did definitely make me think about how very old traditions morph our modern society in an often indirect way. Buddhism is still very prevalent in Japan, and although it operates quite differently than a western religion (as it seems to be more tradition than religion per se), it still is interesting to see how its doctrines impact daily life. This has been the biggest sign of this that I’ve seen so far, but I am certain that I will se more in the future. The line between religion, philosophy, and way of life seems a lot more blurry here then it is often made out to be in my American education, which I have found very interesting.

Post 6

For a deconstruction of a critical moment in my travels, I will use a conversation from my excursion to Russian Orthodox Monasteries in the area. D – I started speaking with a plump, older-looking woman. She said she was from Ukraine, and started telling me about how there are Russians in Ukraine who want to become part of Russia. There was a woman sitting next to her, perhaps half her age, but still probably in her late twenties or early thirties. I was told that this was her daughter. I – It soon became clear that this mother was trying to pawn off her daughter on a western tourist. When she started asking about my love life, it also became apparent that she was unnerved by the fact that I already had a girlfriend, but she nevertheless remained persistent. V – I was fairly certain this was the case because one of my friends understood the situation similarly, despite the fact that she understands even less Russian than I do. E – Following from this evaluation, I persistently rebuffed the mother, saying I was very happy that I was in a relationship and that the reason she isn’t travelling with me is because she is doing fantastic travels of her own. This was a funny encounter, because the daughter squirmed as her mother spoke about her. It felt almost like an arranged marriage negotiation, or perhaps closer to haggling at a bizarre, except for the fact that I wasn’t buying what was being sold. It was mentioned that the deep-dive exercise was an enunciation of an instinctive process, and I would happen to agree. In the moment, an evaluation occurred following an initial observation.

Of Sacred Cows and Cultural Stereotypes

“Excuse me, but…isn’t the cow…sacred (“heilig” in German) for Indians?”, the hostess at my accommodation in Munich asked hesitatingly. She was surprised that my culinary adventures in Germany included a beef Döner kebab, that delicious example of Germany’s multiculturalism (for the complex history of the döner kebab in Germany, see this article). A popular belief, even within India, is that beef is forbidden for practising Hindus. While most historians agree that Vedic texts do not explicitly ban the consumption of cattle, the passages referring to cows have been interpreted differently over the years on economic, cultural, and political grounds (see the first chapter of James Staples’ book on the politics of meat in India for a brief historical overview). Notwithstanding the contentious and bloody debates around meat consumption, many Hindu Indians like me happily cook and eat beef.

My hostess, curious as well as sensitive about cultural differences, had not expected an Indian to talk happily about trying out the beef preparations of the world. Forced to articulate the socio-political complexities of the sacred cow in my elementary school German, I realised how cultural stereotypes homogenise the complexities of any practice.

In just my first week in Munich, I encountered quite a few stereotypically German ways of going about life. Except for the trains, most things are on time. Though it might be rather alarming to the newcomer, drinking beer or smoking in public is usual here. When they are not smoking or drinking alcohol, the Germans I have met so far have all been extremely health conscious and make sure they spend some time every week hiking, jogging, or cycling. A favourite German activity seems to be biking. I have seen people of all ages, dressed in anything from mountain-biking gear to a full formal suit, zipping away to work, the supermarket, or to places that offer more opportunities for physical exercise. Pedestrians must stay off the bicycle lanes or they will get yelled at by the extremely fit cyclist.

And yes, most people are very direct and like to follow the rules. It was quite stressful for me as a newcomer in Germany to keep track of all of the new rules of social etiquette I was expected to follow. My classmates in my language course, all of them from outside Germany, shared incidents when they were greeted with stern looks or polite rebukes when they crossed the boundaries of acceptable behaviour that might not have been a problem in their own countries. With a little time, I have come to believe that underlying this cultural stereotype is a deep sense of social responsibility inculcated in people from a young age. An example is the Tagesschau, a daily 15-minute review of the news of the day aired at 8 p.m. that Germans watch religiously. My hostess, who remembers watching the show with her parents and grandparents, now watches it with her 16-year-old daughter. Mother and daughter comment daily on the show’s coverage of Germany’s energy crisis, cyber security measures, or refugee policies. These are not vague, distant issues but immediate concerns that affect their daily lives. The Germans I have met so far have a clear awareness of the interconnectedness of all things social and their adherence to rules is an expression of this care. I am sure that some more time living here will alert me to new facets of German cultural stereotypes. For now, I have realised that sacred cows are not always as they seem.