Thursday, June 28, 2007

Victory!

We go to the same cafe every morning for breakfast. It's down the road from where we live. We started going there the end of first week of school because it was quick and a cornetto and cafe only cost 1.35.

My first impression was that the ladies behind the counter hated me, and that was really hard for me. They were really gruff and short with me and barely even made eye contact. They slammed our drinks down and didn't seem to like us very much. It made me feel really bad because I would always enter with a smile and greet them with a "Ciao" or a "Buongiorno." And I am a naturally smiling person. I am a friendly person. I hate it when people don't smile back at me. It makes me sad.

The second week rolled around and we headed back to our shop and the two ladies. I entered with my "Ciao," and THEY SAID IT BACK. I was so excited that I couldn't contain myself. And then, when I was checking out, I had exact change and I got really excited about that, because Italians love exact change, and the one girl winked at me! I pretty much told everyone and they thought I was weird, but it was a big moment for me. By the end of the second week, they would greet us when we came in and the meaner one was even winking at me! I felt the love.

Now it's the end of the third week and Rachel and I just went in and the mean one gave us big smiles and she already knew our order. The other one shared in a joke with us when she lost a take-away customer and did the share in the funny moment smile with us. I felt so included and accepted, like they had finally become accustomed to my presence and included me. I am part of the in crowd at this cafe.

But that is nothing compared to the treatment of the lady at Baccanale. That's the place where we go and get sandwiches every day after school. Baccanale has probably the best sandwiches in Rome and it's right off of Campo. The same lady's there when we go. We learned quickly that if you have the 50 euro cent piece you're in. By the second week, she would always say "Domani" when we left. And yesterday was the best of all. I always get the turkey, lettuce and tomato but yesterday I got a tuna and tomato, because tuna is the only fish I like. I pointed at it and she said, "Questo?" Like, "What the crap?" I said, "Tuna?" She said, "Si." So I said yes and she made the "this is nasty" face and we all laughed. And then SHE TOOK THE 50 EURO CENT OFF THE PRICE. For all of us. We are so in it is ridiculous. And the sandwich was Delicious, of course. She offered me mayo. And I said no and she laughed and said "Domani." I'm really going to miss the cafe girls and the Baccanale lady. They've been so great and really made me feel like a part of Rome.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Nonverbal communication

Nonverbal communication is the study of all of the nonverbal stimuli that are generated by the source and how they utilize the environment and how that may have a potential message value for the source or receiver. Nonverbal communication is influenced by a person's culture and the society in which they live. It is also influenced by their sex and gender. Nonverbal communication is learned by watching other people. It is taught by other members of the society, so it will vary from culture to culture.

The nonverbal communication will have an effect on the success of one's intercultural communication. Nonverbal communication is not set; it is ambiguous and may vary from culture to culture. In order to be a successful nonverbal intercultural communicator, one must learn the nonverbals for that particular culture. Because many times nonverbal communication is done unconsciously, the wrong message can be sent without a person even being aware of it.

Proxemics relates to personal space, seating, and furniture arrangement. In the United States, the promexics are greater than they are in many other cultures, especially European cultures. There exists a difference in proxemics between intimate and causal distances and the social
and public distances. Americans tend to take up less space and leave plenty of room in between; Italians will pack on as many people as they can into an already crowded, small space. Proxemics can also communicate status and role distinction. In the United States, the person sitting at the head of the table has the most power. Also, in an office setting, the person behind the desk holds the power. Harmony, privacy, and even centralization are all evidenced by proxemics. In the United States, we center our living room around the television. Many other countries have seating so that it is facing each other. This shows what cultures emphasize. The United States is placing the emphasis on the TV and media. Other countries are placing the emphasis on interpersonal communication, talking with other people, relationship building, or simply conversation in general.

Body language, or kinesics, shows a great deal. It can demonstrate the attitude you hold towards someone else. It can show if you're in an emotional state. It can also show a desire to control your environment, all depending on what you do. Italians are much freer with their body language than Americans are. They use gestures much more frequently, especially when they are highly emotional. When they greet each other, they hug and kiss on each cheek. Americans hand shake, which shows how we are much more formal.

Haptics is how touch relays information. This varies from culture to culture. In the United States, touch is not highly valued. We are more of a Puritanical culture that doesn't really show much affection. It's different in Europe, especially in Italy, where people touch each other all of the time. When we were in Florence, Allie, Rachel and I saw two friends literally leap up to great each other, the one running and jumping on the other one. You would not witness that in the States. Their greeting showed that they were close friends who hadn't seen each other in some time. It was nice to see people being freer with their emotions, although it was a little strange.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

New food experience

Today for lunch we were charged with trying a new food. I pretty much all right with this because it would be funded. And also, I'm okay with trying new things. Just not fish. Because I hate fish. They're disgusting. Matt ordered shrimp once and I was sitting across from him and they had eyes and I was almost sick. They also smelled like the ocean. I don't like food that smells like the ocean. I guess I'm a fairly picky eater. So I was okay with this whole try a new food thing until I learned about the restrictions. No pasta or pizza. And Teri shot down risotto, too. I have been craving risotto since I got here, and everywhere I go it's a seafood risotto, but I figured I could try that and it would be okay. Since I hate fish so much. But that idea pretty much got shot down.

So we went to this little restaurant down the street to have our new food experience. I was feeling pretty nervous until I saw the menu, which was pretty detailed. I figured I could find something on it. And there was even some weird vegetables for Rachel, who was worried because she's a vegetarian and it's kind of hard to branch out if you don't eat meat. So we went in and the place was pretty much empty. There were like two old Italian men and that was it. Our waiter was also an older Italian man and he was extremely excited to see us. We noticed that they don't get a lot of young people in there. We looked over the menu and there was some weird stuff. But I decided that I would eat fish because I hate it so much. And I would just like to elaborate briefly on how much I hate fish. For Serbian Christmas Eve you can only eat food that comes from the ground or from the sea, which is pretty limiting. We have salad, Serbian potato salad (which I think smells funny, so I don't eat it), unleavened bread, and whiting and smelts. We cook the whiting and smelts on the back porch during Pittsburgh January because my mom doesn't want to smell up the house (so I think it's genetic). My dad also makes canned tuna with a lot of salt and pepper so you can't really taste the tuna. At dinner, however, I'm not allowed to hog up on the salad or tuna because my one cousin and my mom also don't like fish and everyone likes salad. So I don't starve, I pretty much have to eat fish. I fill half my plate with ketchup, cut a tiny piece of fish off, cover the whole piece in ketchup and then eat it. You pretty much just taste the ketchup and not any fish at all. It's delicious. I just wanted to tell this to elaborate on how much I despise fish.

I ordered grilled squid. Not fried calamari, which I will eat doused in sauce, but grilled squid. I was feeling pretty nervous before it came out. I was regretting my decision pretty hard-core. Matt, Allie, and Tyler ordered ox tails and I was thinking that couldn't be that bad, an ox is pretty close to beef, I should have gotten that. But then our waiter brought out all these plates of appetizers and we were thinking, "Did we order this?" They were really good. I have no idea what they were, though. Matt said the one pizza had anchovies on it, so I avoided that. I drew the line at the anchovies. I did eat the omlettey-ham turnover and the other pizza with artichokes on it and they were both good. When I looked at the conto he only charged us a dollar per person for all of that, and that's how much plain bread is. No one else got that. So I felt special.

Then I saw him coming out with these three heaping plates of meat with red sauce and I really started to freak out. I knew the food was coming. And I really did not want to eat any squid. AT ALL. This was the ox tail's and it looked pretty good. It smelled pretty good too, like stew. Matt took the first bite while Rose was taking pictures and it was pretty funny. He said it was hard to cut.

Mine came out with Rachel's and Rose's and it was NASTY LOOKING. I did not take a picture and the nasty part has not been preserved with me in a photograph. There were two flat pieces of like yellow and white fish and then these two giant tentacle pieces which I immediately moved to another plate and hid under something. I cut a piece and it wasn't squishy, so I was happy about that. I ate it, and I was just hoping I wasn't going to barf. I was told if I did Matt would take a picture. It really wasn't that bad. It was really lemony and it didn't taste fishy, which I was worried about. I ate the whole first piece but not the second piece. That one was less lemony and I think maybe at first my expectation had been that it would be so nasty that it was so exceeded that the second piece really had to live up, and it just didn't. Matt, however, did eat the tentacle pieces, which I thought was nasty. He ripped off all the legs. We found the head and cut it off and it was pretty cool. You could see inside of it. I like to play with my food, which is kind of a bad habit and why I couldn't order green beans for years. He didn't eat the head though. We discussed whether or not we thought Italians ate the whole thing. I hope they don't but I have a sneaking suspicion they do, because eye balls are a delicacy in some cultures.

I feel like this was overall a good experience. I don't think that I'd willingly order grilled calamari again, but if I accidentally did it, it wouldn't be the end of the world. I could eat it. I would probably order the ox's tail. I tried Matt's and it was good. Allie and Tyler said that you don't get much meat out of it though, which probably wouldn't be a bad thing for me because I never finish a meal, anyway. I think I did a good job with this assignment because I ate fish that wasn't deep fried or covered in any sauce or doused in lemon, which is how I've always ate fish in the past. I ate a whole big piece, which was probably like a whole squid side, and I didn't throw up or get sick. This taught me to not be afraid to try new things. I still think I have limits, though. I don't like squishy meats and I might have an issue with eating something that got killed right in front of me. The best bet for me is probably still to not know what I've eaten until after I'm done. That's why I like zucchini bread.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Ocean's 13 in Italia--in Inglese!

Last night we went to see a movie in English, and we were all ridiculously excited. I personally love going to the movies, and I had been disappointed about not getting to see Ocean's 13 before I left, so I was happy to see it. But I was even happier, I guess, to see a movie in English. I usually don't mind watching movies in other languages because when I was taking Italian freshman year the one movie channel played some movies in Italian with Italian subtitles and I watched them. I just really didn't like the one we saw as a class. I couldn't really follow it and I thought it was kind of boring. But I think I would have thought that if it was in English--I didn't really like the whole Jesus-symbolism. It made it seems as though the people in the village weren't too bright.

We weren't too sure how the movie theater would be set up. The one we went to for the Italian movie was really small. When you walked in there was just a desk where you paid and then you went back these hallways to find your theater. The theater itself was pretty; kind of modern-architecture and simple. It didn't really remind me of too many movie theaters in America. The biggest difference was that they had an intermission about halfway through the movie. I didn't really understand the point of it, though, because they just bumped up the lights for about five seconds and then dimmed them again.

The theater we went to for Ocean's 13 looked much more like a traditional American theater. It was on VIa del Corso near Piazza del Popolo. You bought your tickets through the counter with the glass like you do in the states. And there was a concession stand, which I was really not expecting. The concession stand was really different, though from mainstream American theaters. They had a bar where you could get beer or mixed drinks. They also sold water and American candy bars, which is interesting but they were playing American movies so it's not as strange that the American candy bars would be present. The theater actually had popcorn too, but Rachel and Tyler said that it wasn't freshly made and it also was not buttery.

We went into the theater and the seats were really comfortable, like blue plush chairs. It was a small theater that was pretty much filled with UD students. It was the six of us and then we saw some graduates that we had met in Florence over the weekend. We were all talking when all of the sudden the lights shut off. There was no gentle dimming; one minute they were on and the next it was pitch black. They had one preview and then they went right into the movie. I thought it was interesting that they didn't have the whole "don't use your cell phone" spiel. In America, you can't go into a theater without one of those. In Italy, I don't think that people use their cell phones as much as people do in America. In the US, you can't really walk down the street without seeing half of the people talking on their phones. Here, there are people on their phones, but it's usually just to get information or to catch up. It seems as though people here are more comfortable with silence and not concerned with talking on the phone to fill up time or dead air. Italians seem to value actual person to person interaction rather than the constant phone conversations that we have in America.

The movie was in English but it had Italian subtitles. I wondered why people would go and see an American movie in a language they didn't understand but then I remembered everything we learned with the speakers about the Italians' love of movies. They said that Italians love movies and go see them all the time. Americans also love movies and go see them all of the time but it seems like Italians may have a higher taste level in movies than the mainstream Americans. The American movies that are out aren't all of the crappy ones that everyone sees in the US. The ones we saw playing are the bigger blockbusters, like Ocean's 13, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Shrek 3.

Our movie also had an intermission. It came at a really choppy point, barely in between scenes, and it was slightly longer than the last one, but I still didn't understand the point. A couple of guys got up and left but the movie started again before they got back, so the intermission really isn't long enough to get anything done.

It was really interesting watching the movie with the Italian subtitles. I can read Italian much better than I can speak it, so I was trying to go back and forth sometimes to get an idea of what the translated version was. There were some words that couldn't be translated, like "Nuff said," which just appeared as it was at the bottom. There were some that were changed so that the meaning was different, but I can't really think of any now. They were just phrases that in American English you can't really translate into another language and get the same meaning.

I liked seeing the movie, and I'm really glad we went. As far as the movie goes, I really liked it. I love Ocean's 11 and 12, so I knew I'd like it. It wasn't as funny as the other two, and it didn't have as many twists and surprises, but it was still a good con, and it was nice to see an American movie with the actor's actual voices. Shakespeare in Love or It's a Wonderful Life just aren't the same with Italian dubbing.

Monday, June 18, 2007

Restaurant Experiences

Having been here for over a week now (which seems to be very weird), I've eaten at a lot of restaurants. And there are some definite differences in what to expect from American restaurants. There are the main ones, of course. Because of the different time values, the time spent at a restaurant will be longer than one at an American restaurant. We always allot more time than we plan on being there. The extra time comes at the end of the meal, though. I've noticed that you order and you get your food fairly quickly. It seems like food comes out much sooner than it ever does in the US. I think that might be because they don't bring out everyone's food at once. Last night a group of us went to the restaurant down the street for dinner and we all ordered at the same time. Three people even ordered the same thing: margherita pizzas. But they all came out at different times. Matt's came out really fast and he was almost half-way done with his meal by the time Tyler's chicken and Allie's and my pastas came out. Rachel also got a pizza, but hers came out even later. So they don't expect everyone to start at the same time and finish at the same time. You just start whenever and finish whenever. I really am starting to get used to this way of living and I kind of like it better. It's nice to just take time out and relax and not to feel like you're being rushed out of a place because they need a table.

The emphasis in Italy is not on the service industry. The waiters are very unobtrusive and if you don't flag them down they probably won't come back. If water didn't come in bottles, you'd go thirsty. It's almost like you are eating at home but you didn't have to cook anything. I have not had a waiter that is rude, but they're not overtly friendly or effusive. It's much more genuine than in the United States, where if you aren't falsely happy you're thought to be rude.

Probably the most fun I've had with a waiter was when we were in Spoleto. Our waiter spoke really amazing English and we were asking him where he learned it so well and he said cartoons and we of course did not believe him but he said it was true and he also said that his English was so good because he was Romanian and not Italian. He said that Italians have tough time learning English because of the lilt in the Italian. He was really a good waiter, though, and very different from the Italian waiters I've had. He definitely established a rapport with the group although he wasn't overly obtrusive or in the way or false in any sense. He was just very genuine. He joked a lot with Matt and called him the black sheep of the group because Matt ordered a Coke with "molto ice." Most of us ordered the same pasta dish, so they just brought out a huge dish and portioned it out at the table. He gave Matt one noodle. I don't think that any of the Italian waiters would do that.

I have also noticed that a majority of the waiters in Italy have been men rather than women. Also, the men are much more friendly and personal than the female waiters I've encountered. I have gone into the same restaurant down the street probably three times and the same girl has been working there all three times and she has not smiled once. She's warmed up some.

Intercultural Experiences

This past weekend I was in Florence and while there my friends and I met a lot of people from many different cultures. On our last night there, we were in an Irish pub just hanging out and we started talking with this guy from England, Jamie. He had spent about six months in America, when he was nineteen, so he knew all about the American social and political system. We asked him what were some stereotypes that he had about Americans. I think it's always interesting to find out what people from other cultures think about us.

Because he had spent time in the US, he really did have some opinions. He said that he found that when he talked with Americans he realized that he liked American individuals but not American policies. I thought that was really a comforting idea because a lot of times it feels like the individual Americans get lumped in with the ideals of our government, even though the majority of Americans don't agree with what the government is doing.

Another really good point he brought up is that Americans are very materialistic. He brought up grocery stores and I really thought about that. I've been grocery shopping here, and the grocery store I go to is pretty small by American standards. It's the size of the little grocery store in my town that people go to for "essential" things like meats and stuff but not for cereal or anything like that because there's "not enough selection." In Italy, the selection of cheese and meats and fruits are huge, but there may be only three to five brands of cereal to pick from, and in our grocery store, I don't think any of them have the processed sugars. This really communicates the difference that our cultures place on what we eat. The selection of pre-prepared foods in America is huge, but in Italy we found a rack of pre-prepared dried foods. I don't know what I would do at college if I didn't have prepared meals. The culture here is much more geared towards cooking and preparing meals and spending time together and the grocery store reflects that. People here are much more relaxed and enjoy spending time together and that happens when you are cooking a meal together or eating a home-cooked meal together. I never really thought about all of that until I realized the differences in our grocery stores.

Saturday, June 9, 2007

A good day for a funny story

We were told that we would have a funny story to tell. And today, Kari and I have a funny story to tell!

The group met this morning at the Pantheon to go get espresso and then grab lunch. We finally got there, after some tension as the stops on the bus we always take, the 492, were different today. I attribute that to it being sabato and more of a touristy day. But we got off at our stop and made it there for 11 on the dot. And the espresso was good! A little too sweet with the one sugar, but good. And lunch was fun too; I had my first brushetta and the pomodori were so fresh (Mom, you would have loved them!) and then some insalate pollo. Matt was sitting across from me and he ordered shrimp and they HAD THE EYES AND LEGS STILL. It was disgusting. Kendall was sitting next to him and we asked him to cut all the heads off and hide them. I felt like they were judging me.

But after lunch Kari and I went up to Teri's hotel room to grab some papers and the rest of the group headed back. That's were the day got interesting. We figured we'd grab the metro and get off at the stop Kari needed to pick up the 30 day metro/autobus pass. The only catch was that to grab the metro we would need to go up to Barberini and we were even a little but past the Pantheon. We figured if we went up to Fontana di Trevi we could pick up Via del Tritone and be good. I have no idea how it happened but we went inside the Pantheon again to look around, came out and got turned and twisted around. Half the streets weren't even marked on the map, so we just headed in what we assumed to be the right direction. But partway through we got stopped at a police blockade and had to turn around. All of these streets were blocked off, we started to notice. This was because President Bush is in Rome today. So we were trying to get to Fontana di Trevi and we finally hit a street to get us there and it is completely roped off--caution signs everywhere but there are people lined up on both sides of the street, taking pictures and pointing. And all of these police cars with sirens blaring start whipping by and Kari says, "I think that might be President Bush!" So we kind of pushed our way forward and stood there. About 30 cars, at least, start to go by and we're saying, "We don't know what's happening, but let's take some pictures!" The man next to us, an Italian, said, "It's for your presidente." And we were laughing because it's kind of funny to go all the way to Rome to see the President. We couldn't tell which car he was in but we did see all of them go by and when they finished, the man told us, "Enjoy Roma."

We went to the Trevi Fountain then and took pictures, got turned around again, and finally found our way to Via del Traforo, which connects to Via del Tritone. It was on that street that we saw a man running down the side of the road waving a giant rainbow striped pot flag. It was really interesting to see a protester, coming from a human rights prospective, and not one policeman stopped him (although he might have stopped before he reached them). No one really noticed him or paid any attention to him. He was just some guy running with a giant flag. But to really have a successful protest you need more numbers.

Our feet killing us (Kari's more so than mine) and Kari's jet lag beginning to kick in again (since she just got here yesterday at noon due to plane cancellation), we were really glad to see the Metro station. Not so glad when it was closed. We went into a tabbachi to see if we could buy a one-way ticket for the next one, a 20 minute walk to the Spanish Steps when the proprietor told us all the buses and metros were closed because of President Bush. We were not so happy to have seen him then. But the good news was that Kari bought her month long pass there.

We decided to just hop in a cab because we were tired and did NOT feel like walking to Medaglie D'Oro, which probably would take an hour and a half. So we hailed a cab. The driver was probably in his late fifties or early sixties and did NOT speak English. We told him we wanted to got to Medaglie D'Oro. The first way he wanted to go was blocked and he got into an argument with the police officer. It was very interesting to watch him because he really used a lot of hand gestures to emphasize his words while he was talking,even though I really didn't know what he was saying. So he started on another route and then he got and idea and made the idea sign and said another road. And then he said, "Bene bene bene." So we took that and he pointed out Villa Borghese. We reached the road Medaglie D'Oro and h asked us which hotel. Kari told him the road and had no idea where it was. So he started driving down the road, asking people. They didn't know. Then we told him it was Residence Medaglie D'Oro. And he said, "Ah!" And he asked people and they didn't know. He then pulled over, put on his glasses, and radioed in. They told him the same address Kari had said at least seven times by that point. He then pulled kind of off the road got out of the car, leaving the door open and went into a hair salon to get directions. They didn't know. He came back out, said, "Loco," and pointed at the side of his head. He then, using motions and speaking at the same time, told us we should write down the address next time.

We got direction when he pulled up next to some ancient cab driver and a red light. When the light turned we were honked at and 4 people drove around us. We had to do a three point turn but he kept saying, "Bella bella" and cheering with his hands.

At about 3.00 we pulled into Medaglie D'Oro. We gave him a 5 euro tip and decided that we had a very interesting day. I was surprised at how well we could communicate with him, although I wish that I had known more directions or question words. The nonverbals were fairly easy to understand and translated well. All in all, it's been an interesting day!

Arriving in Rome

I flew from Pittsburgh to Cincinnati and the flight was really short. There was the cutest little girl across the row from me and we talked a little bit.

On the flight from Cincinnati to Rome there were seven of us, which was really nice. I had been worried about how I was going to get to Medaglie D'Oro, but having so many of us it was easy. The plane was a beast, though! I didn't realize it would be so huge! I sat next to a couple, and the man grew up about 100 m outside of Rome. I know this because I eavesdropped on them a little. I couldn't really help it. It was fun sitting next to them because he would correct the flight attendant's Italian to his wife.

A bird just almost flew in the apartment. Kari, my roommate, brought her computer, which is really nice because we get free wireless. But back to arriving.

Maneuvering around FCO was easy. And customs was not what I was expecting! We waited in this beastly long line and then you had to step up to a yellow line, wait a minute, and then just walk through, hold your passport up to the window, and he waved us on. The guy was just sitting there with his head in his hands, looking bored as could be. He actually looked like Mussolini.

We all cabbed into Medaglie D'Oro, and it was 20 euro each. We took a van. And it was terrifying. It was our first experience with Rome drivers, and they are crazy. Just because the light is red doesn't necessarily mean they will stop. Especially the scooter drivers.

At Residence Medaglie D'Oro, we got keys and room assignments and waited for the meeting and walk. I took a shower because I felt so dirty! But I was so excited to finally be in Rome! On our first walk, I think the moment that I first got really excited to be here was when we got to the Spanish Steps. It was so amazing to see them, full of people. And the Keats and Shelley museo is right next to them. There's just so much history here--I love it. There's just nothing like it in America!

So arriving was good--no stories there! I was just glad to shower and then go to bed!

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Hofstede

Hofstede's four cultural dimensions are are individual/collectivism, uncertainty avoidance, power distance, and masculinity/femininity.

Individual/collectivism discussing whether or not cultures are individualistic or collectivist. An individualistic culture is one that views the individual as the single most important part of culture. In these cultures, individual achievement is rewarded and independence is stressed over dependence. The uniqueness of each individual is valued. Competition rather than cooperation is valued and personal goals are more important than group goals. The United States is an example of an individualistic culture. Collective cultures have a more rigid framework. In a collectivist culture, the values an needs f the in0group are put before the needs of the individual. The beliefs of the individual are not separate from the beliefs of the group.

Uncertainty avoidance basically states that the future is unknowable. The level of uncertainty that each culture has differs depending upon the culture. Some cultures have high uncertainty avoidance and some have low. High uncertainty avoidance cultures like to avoid any uncertainty. This is done by providing stability through the establishment by providing rules for the members to follow. Following the rules will reduce the stress. Cultures with low uncertainty avoidance accept that uncertainty is a part of life. They like taking risks and are less tense and more relaxed.

Power distance classifies culture on a continuum of high to low power distance. Cultures with high power distances accept power as a part of society and teach members that all people are not equal. They are hierarchical cultures and institutional inequality is present. Low power distance culture believe that inequality in all forms should be minimized. They view hierarchies as another form of inequalities.

Masculinity and femininity refers to the degree that cultures value masculine and feminine traits. Masculinity refers to the extent that the culture has dominant masculine traits. Masculine cultures have highly defined gender roles. Cultures that value femininity value nurturing behaviors and believes that men don't need to be assertive and that they too should assume nurturing roles. The ideal is androgynous behavior.


Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Leaving for Italy

Well, emotionally, I am ready to go to Italy. I am excited about going; I've never been before and so I'm very excited about going. I'm more relaxed now that I know I'm going to be meeting Rose and Rachel on the plane in Cincinnati. That just takes a weight off.

But I'm not packed yet, my passport is being overnighted because they didn't finish it yet, and (as we can tell) I still have a blog entry to finish, other than this one. I am just a procrastinator. And I hate packing. I just would like to BE there and not really do any of the stuff needed to prepare for it that is still on one of my lists. I do like checking things off once I get them done. I know I'll get everything done, and I'm not stressed. I'm not extremely excited either. Maybe once I get more done I'll get really really excited. I'm just a person that has to move through things in steps and see progress before I get happy/relieved. If it doesn't look like I've made progress, then I don't feel like I've made progress, even if I have. But considering all that I have to do, I'm actually not feeling that stressed out. I know what I have to do. I know that I can do it. I think that after I wrote that huge paper last semester packing doesn't seem like that big of a deal. Plus, my mom or my dad will just end up re-doing it anyway. And I am not saying that because I want them to pack for me. I just know this as a fact. People do not like the way that I pack, and my parents are much more anal than I am. And are apparently experts in packing.

My cousin is studying with UD's program in London and it sounds like she's having a really good time. I expect that I will have as much fun as she is! I think my expectations are...well I don't really know. When we went to the Grand Canyon when I was in high school, my brother Nate and I complained the whole time before we'd gone because we said, "What's the point in going? It's just a hole." We'd seen it in movies and didn't think it would be a big deal or anything. We got there and it was amazing, just so huge and epic--it was bigger and greater than anything I could ever have imagined. And I don't think I would have wanted to imagine anything that big, because nothing could have lived up to that. And last summer, my mom and I went to New York City for the first time after a 12-year campaign on my part. I had ALWAYS wanted to go to New York City. But I remember my mom asking me what I expected and I said, "I don't know. I've never been there." And then we got there and THAT was amazing too...the constant pulsing of the city, like you were just connected with every other person there. So I guess the point is that I try not to have preconceived expectations of someplace new. I like to just have it hit me in the face so I experience it full force. And then I have that memory forever. I still have my memories of some of my most life-changing first places (well, the only one I didn't mention was when I saw Disney World for the first time) in my mind. I can still remember all of my emotions.

But I do expect that I will have an amazing time, because I do have an amazing time wherever I go.

Stereotypes

One main stereotype that I think exists in other countries about Americans is that we are rude and selfish and care only about ourselves and look down on all other cultures. Another stereotype I think that others have about Americans is that we think that we are better than all other nations. I also think that other cultures think that all Americans have money. They also think that all Americans agree with the current political regime.

Stereotypes I have heard that exist about Italians are ones like they are very loud and noisy. They eat all the time and very large meals. It takes them forever to get anything done; bureaucratically, they are very slow-moving. Another stereotype is that all Italians are short. I have also heard that the pace of life in general is much slower in Italy than it is in the United States.

I think that sources for these stereotypes could come from a variety of places. For the stereotypes regarding Americans, they could come from our political activities and the media representation of them. They could also come from movies about Americans. A lot of American movies are sent all over the world and translated into many languages. Movies oftentimes present situations and characters who are meant to represent average Americans but in actuality do not. The sources for stereotypes about Italians could come from movies, like The Godfather. Also, there are many Italian immigrants who live in the United States. Seeing how they act with each other could cause people to generalize as to the entire Italian population. The pace difference stereotype I learned in a social psychology class. It ranked the differences in paces of life for different cultures by measuring how fast people walk. Americans walk very fast while Italians tended to be one of the slower-moving cultures.

These stereotypes could have a really negative impact on intercultural communication. Much of the international community does not agree with the actions of the current American government, and if they believe that all Americans share the same ideals, then they may project their dislike when conversing with Americans. They could assume that in their interactions with Americans, the Americans are going to be rude. Conversely, because of the differences in the cultures, Americans may also have some difficulties in communicating with Italians. The differences in pace may be difficult for Americans, who may see the slower moving Italians as being weaker.

Sunday, June 3, 2007

Cultural Consciousness

Two values that my mother really hammered into me and my brother was the "treat others as you'd like to be treated" and "imagine yourself in that person's shoes." This really shaped my childhood and instilled in me a great deal of empathy. My parents felt that these values would make us more likely to treat people with respect and kindness and compassion. Keeping to these values would help us to always ensure that other people would feel valued, even if (and especially if) they were different from us.

When we grew up, we were expected to go to college. My family, since my parent's generation, have all gone to college. Education is highly valued in our family. My maternal grandfather went to college later in life, after my mom was born, and he would always tell us stories about how he'd go to school, then drive and work on the railroad and then go home and stay up all night doing homework. He always stressed the importance of education to us. When we were growing up, we were expected to contribute to family life by helping to maintain the house by doing chores, such as cleaning. Now that I'm in college, that still holds true when I'm home, although to a lesser extent. Once I graduate, I know that my family responsibilities won't be huge. I already know that I probably won't live in the same area as the majority of my family--I'll have to go where the jobs are. I know that my family will expect me to keep in touch, which I will do, of course.

My family structure was the traditional nuclear family: two parents and a younger brother. Both of my parents worked for my entire childhood (and still work). The majority of my extended family have always lived in near-by towns, so we would see them for all holidays and at random times in between. Family was always very important--during holidays, we were never allowed to "disappear" and go play. We had to spend time talking with the adults. Now that I'm older, I'm glad my parents made us do that because I got to learn a lot more about my family that way.

Our ethnicity was always very important to our family and we learned about it from the time we were little. My mother is Serbian and Croatian; my father is Italian. All of their family members taught us about our culture. We celebrate Serbian Christmas every year on January 7 and about 6 years ago also began celebrating Christmas Eve. We always do it at our house. The family comes over. On Christmas Eve we cook fish on the back porch because my mom says it smells and she doesn't want our house to smell like it. On Christmas Eve you can only eat food that comes from the ground or from the sea, so the meal is pretty limited. Christmas Day, my mom's cousin always makes a different soup. When I came home my freshman year in college, she made wedding soup for me. She normally doesn't do that because she hates rolling the meatballs. We also always have sarma, which is a traditional Serbian food that my mom, Tete (my great-aunt), and I always rolled. It's rice, onion, and meat rolled into cabbage rolls. In between the cabbage rolls, when you cook it, you put sausage. Before dinner, my grandpa lights the candle, says a prayer, and then we all do a shot of whiskey. Our Italian heritage is always important to us as well. Every year we participate in a parade honoring the patron saint of my dad's family's village, San Rocco. A lot of people from the same village immigrated to the same town in the 1920's and carried with them this tradition, which we still do today. It's really cool to be a part of the procession. The procession begins with the priests, then the band, then the statue, which is carried by decedents of the original immigrants. My father and brother are both statue carriers. They are followed by the women of the families who carry banners honoring family members who have died. My cousins and I carry family banners.

I grew up in a neighboorhood that had a lot of children. We would all play together. Also, my next door neighbor was disabled. Her name was Mrs. Foster and she had MS. She was in and electric wheelchair from the time I was fairly little. I can remember going over to pick stuff up for her when it would be beyond her reach, or when my brother and I would lock ourselves our because they had our extra key. We'd always stay after we returned the key to talk with her. My family was very similiar to the other families in our neighborhood. We live in an entirely white, heterosexual neighborhood. My neighborhood is representative of my town.

Intercultural Encounter

My freshman year in college I took Italian for two semesters. My teacher was Alessandra. She had just finished up University in Rome, and this was her first time in the U.S. During the course of having Alessandra for two semesters, we (as a class) taught her much about American culture. She had some trouble adjusting to American culture. I remember one such encounter we had. Class was at 9 a.m. five days a week so I would usually bring string cheese to eat. One day Alessandra asked me what I was eating, so I told her it was string cheese. She was mostly horrified. She couldn't understand that it was cheese in a chunk that you pulled into strings and ate. Then the class got into a debate over how we ate string cheese--did we break it off into pieces or do the more traditional pulling of strips? Alessandra was even more amazed that there were multiple ways to eat string cheese.

I always felt very comfortable communicating with Alessandra. She conducted the class entirely in Italian, which was more comfortable for her, but outside of class or when we had personal discussions in class, we used English. She would never laugh at us if we misused a word or got two similar words confused. We always extended that same consideration to her. By the time the particular event that I described had
occurred, we were well into the second semester, so I had known Alessandra for months. Our class was smaller second semester and she was much more comfortable with all of us, and we were with her.

The experience helped me to look at things that I felt were just a part of my every-day life through another person's eyes. I ate string cheese a lot during that time. I didn't really think of it as something strange. All my friends ate string cheese. It wasn't a weird thing to eat, in my personal opinion. But seeing Alessandra's take on the string cheese made me re-evaluate that opinion. To her, string cheese was a hunk of processed cheese. In her culture, she was used to eating fresh cheese. The sight of processed
cheese in a log-like chunk would be disgusting. The experience taught me to look at my experiences and my actions more objectively, through another person's eyes.

Although we did sometimes face obstacles in our communication, it was never awkward or uncomfortable. Alessandra from day one emphasized non-verbal communication, such as hand gestures. Even if she was speaking in Italian and I didn't know everything she was saying, if I could pick out three words, correctly place her tone and identify her hand gestures, I could pretty much guess at what she was saying. She did the same with us. That was the most important thing I took from communicating with Alessandra: even if you can't translate exactly what someone is saying, if you can pick up a few words and context clues, you're good to go.