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February 2, 2009

Philosophia Americana

Topics of conversation between foreigners often lead to things held in common. One such commonality may be the difference in culture shared between them.

While I was in Amsterdam, I enjoyed talking to the Dutch. Several of the conversations I had led me to think about my own culture. Commonly, people told me that Americans were difficult to get to know. We are non-direct and put having a good time and maintaining harmony above substance. Very often, I was told, when talking to an American you get the feeling that there is something beyond the superficiality but you cannot ever quite break though.

I wanted to believe that what people were telling me was not true. I liked to think that I am not representative of these aspects of my culture. I would like to think that if I am an exception then there are many more American exceptions and the logic simply cannot hold. The prejudice must be false. I thought this way before I met the seminary students from St. Thomas.

When you take a flight from Amsterdam's Schiphol Airport to the US it is common to pass through two security screenings. The first is the standard check where you remove all the metal bits from your pockets and place your laptop in its own tray. The second is right at the gate of your flight where you go through this entire process again but then are interviewed individually by a security agent on who packed your bags, where you have come from, where you are going, and why. I like to think this is the Dutch way of helping travelers adjust to American culture before ever having to leave the Netherlands.

While I was standing in the line to get inspected I heard a very particular noise. It was a warble, like a Turkey's call but made of several high tones. But in the tones there were English words, and faked emotions. I am referring to the sound produced by American college undergraduate girls and I was surrounded by twenty or thirty of them.

I was curious why there were so many and so I asked the girl standing in front of me—a medium height, dumpy, thin-lipped thing with a chicken's eyes. She said, "umm, we are, like, on our J-Term trip."

Naïve me asked, "what is 'J-Term?'"

Frustrated at my appalling lack of knowledge of compounded acronyms she rolled her eyes at me and said, "January term. We are seminary students, from St. Thomas. We just spent a month in Rome." She said Rome to me in a way that suggested that it was a Rome that would be impossible for me to ever visit because I was so creepy. Creepy and stupid.

By now, her friends had turned around to see who this "weirdo" was that was obviously trying to "pick up" on their thin-lipped chicken-eyed friend. I asked some small talk questions and received many, "umm...yeah" responses in reply. That is when I decided to try and reach for the stars.

"I have been in a few discussions recently about how Americans don't really have concrete opinions on matters and how we don't like to volunteer our true thoughts or express ourselves philosophically, but you are seminary students right?" I continued, "can you tell me one experience from your trip to Rome that profoundly changed your thinking about the world or your religion or your philosophy?"

I was met with blank stares. I continued, "it doesn't have to be related directly to the church or something liturgical, how about something from Italian culture?"

The thin-lipped alpha chicken gave a mocked expression of pain which receded to counterfeit exhaustion. "Umm, look, we umm, just had our final on this stuff yesterday? So, like, we don't want to talk about it again right now, kay?" And then she turned away from me, standing proud at the shoulders that she had saved herself and all her friends from the painful act of thinking or sharing meaningful words with another human being.

Were my European acquaintances correct? Are Americans hard to get to know? Do we not have critical, well reasoned thoughts to share with others? No. I do not believe it is true all the time. Spending months abroad have taught me that every country has its people who when looked in the eye stare back with the same empty look as a fish on ice or thin-lipped chicken. The difference may be that many more of our American fish and chicken people have airline tickets and J-Terms to spend with their classmates in Rome.

Posted by jordanh at February 2, 2009 10:54 PM

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