Summer Language Abroad 2023

One of the first cultural differences I noticed in Ecuador was how children are raised, perhaps most obvious while I spent an afternoon and evening at a local park with my host family watching soccer matches. After my 3 year absence in Paute, my host nephew, born days after my last departure, had grown so much bigger than I anticipated. While shy and hesitant to talk at first, we spent the evening sharing some salchipapas and kicking a soccer ball around. As the day progressed and the sun went down, I couldn’t help but notice that my host nephew was not the only child running around the park, even as the night stretched on – we were out until close to 11 pm watching and playing soccer, and kids seemed to run around us with reckless abandon, presumably with parents nearby.

However, parents didn’t seem to be stressed about their children in these public settings, as there seemed to be a deep trust in the park and greater Paute community that they would look after their neighbors. The cliche of “It takes a village” seemed to be internalized by everyone around. I couldn’t help but reflect on my own childhood, growing up walking to school, but watching parental decisions like this slowly fall out of favor with the general public. The highly individualized community that I had grown accustomed to in the US did not translate to my new setting, as individualism consistently surrendered to the needs of the community.

Upon further reflection of my day of soccer, it also illuminated the cultural differences in their view of scheduling, time, and the future. The day began and ended with no plan or timetable, we would find dinner when we felt like it, and everything was flexible. While this initially was extremely frustrating as I lacked the language skills to understand this attitude, I soon learned to embrace and enjoy it, knowing that once classes started, I would not have the opportunity to spend days like this.

And after being equipped with the language to describe cultural differences through the SLA program, I can now begin to verbalize what my draw was to Latin America. In a strange way, Paute feels like the neighborhood that my parents grew up in or the American community of the past that is celebrated and coveted in pop culture through media like Stranger Things. While grateful for the immense freedom, choice, and individuality that is afforded by American culture, I discovered new cultural norms that nourished parts of me that I did not know existed.

My time in Ireland is coming to an end. After nearly three months in this country, and two weeks of cultural immersion in the Gaeltacht, I feel I’ve gained a decent understanding of how the Irish culture functions. The differences between Irish and American cultures are subtle; there is a reason why it is so easy for Americans to visit Ireland and vice versa. The fact that many Americans come from Irish heritage certainly plays no small part in this cultural understanding, too.

That said, there are some metrics where Ireland has different attitudes than I was used to. For one, Ireland has a very low power distance, meaning that hierarchy is generally established for convenience and those higher on the totem pole are easily accessible. Leaders aren’t worshiped; they’re respected, and only when they’ve earned it. This could be seen in my workplace over the summer months, where managers and employees would frequently converse on equal footing, even going out for meals and drinks as peers. In my language classes, too, my teachers often offer to buy me a drink at the Ríleán, a behaviour I would not expect in an American school. Those in positions of power speak quite casually, and there’s a general understanding that everyone is human.

Secondly, the Irish have a different concept of time. Each night at my language program, there is an evening event scheduled for 8pm. Each night, that event did not start until 8:15 at the earliest. In the grand scheme of things, 15 minutes does not make a big difference. However, I was raised to expect scheduled events to start at the time they were scheduled for, and it took me a bit to adjust to “Irish Time,” as I’ve often heard it referred to.

Overall, though, I’ve found that Ireland is not so different from the States. I think it is important to remember that cultures are made up of individuals, and any cultural observation is a huge generalization. People do not think or act as a collective; we each have access to our own consciousness, and our own consciousness only. Perhaps that’s just my American individualism speaking, though.

I’ve had a wonderful time here. My language skills have improved immensely; my confidence and understanding in conversations has increased ten-fold, and I’ve made some lovely friends to continue speaking Irish with after I go home. I’m incredibly grateful for this opportunity, and I will hold Gleann Fhinne in my heart forever. Beidh mé ar áis, lá éigin…

Fortunately, Ecuador has a history of strong public transportation, enabling me to travel wherever I wanted, throughout Cuenca or the country, without the need of a car. However, after learning to navigate the bus system, I was not prepared to learn how to navigate the cultural norms on the bus.

While I am not extremely experienced in using public transportation in the US, when I am on a bus or a train, I put on my headphones, keep to myself, and do school work if I am able. While I expected that I should be careful with my belongings and typically avoided music on the bus, I was not prepared for the marketplace that the bus would turn in to.

After a few minutes of happily enjoying the mountain views as I bussed an hour away to the town of Paute to visit my old host family, the bus stopped as someone got on wearing a microphone headset and carrying a speaker, along with a giant bag, overflowing with some sort of candy wrapped in plastic (I later was told that these were melcochas, a traditional taffy candy that I learned how to make with my host aunt). The man began passing out samples of the candy as he began a long-winded speech by blessing us, explaining his where he was from, and how the proceeds of the melcochas would help those struggling with alcoholism. He walked up and down the aisle talking, asking questions, and touting the freshness of his taffy.

This became a regular occurrence, as people hopped on the bus to sell fruit, candy, locally produced lotions, school supplies, headphones, and phone chargers, with multiple salesmen trying to find customers at the same time. While this experience was still new, I struggled to even describe what was going on. I struggled to hear their Spanish over the loud bus and was confused as to why the sales pitch included handing out samples of the product being sold.

While I learned to adapt, the first occurence of this was not without hiccups. As I was handed the sweet melcocha through sentences painting pictures of down-on-their-luck people struggling with addiction, I immediately unwrapped it and tried it without thinking, as I assumed that the sample was free. However, this interpretation could not have been more incorrect. As I looked around at the other Ecuadorians on the bus, the stared blankly out the window and did not give the salesman a second thought, patiently waiting with their sample. This confused me, until the salesman wrapped up his speech and began taking the melcochas back from those that didn’t eat it. Immediately realizing my mistake, I dug through my backpack to find some spare change to pay for the candy – I had fallen into the salesman’s trap (but the melcocha was worth it!). I luckily found a few spare coins at the bottom of my bag, and felt stupid for falling prey to such a simple sales tactic.

Evaluating the incident for what happened, however, should dissuade myself from these negative feelings as I was still adapting to a new place and practicing the language. It is also very difficult to refuse a new and foreign sweet treat. While my immediate reaction was negative, thinking about the incident yielded laughter as a recounted it to my host family over a fresh meal of seco de pollo that night.