Minefields and Flowerfields of Crossing Cultures

Part 1

Recently, on a work trip to Jordan, I was marveling - again- as I watched my Jordanian colleague deftly capture the proceedings from a group discussion on flipchart paper in Arabic.   Silly but it still shocks me how anyone can write that beautiful, magical script at all, much less so quickly.   Then, of course, because Arabic is written from right to left, and because she is making a list, the designating numbers are on the right side of the paper, with the attached item streaming left.   I noted these things quickly and matter-of-factly.  But then, for some reason I can’t explain exactly, when I noticed she was putting the period/full stop to the left of the number, I got a rush of delight.    

 The delight of discovery.  Of surprise.  Of difference.  Of being reminded so gently and simply that my most basic assumptions of normality, of the natural order of things (in this case quite literally) are, of course,  not absolutes.  It reminded me why I live life the most eyes wide open when I am in cultures other than my own – I am addicted to the rush of discovery of difference.   

Part 2

Truth be told, when I  saw this full stop on the left side of the number, alongside the joy was a tiny feeling of shame.  Shame at this sign, albeit small, of my ever present cultural arrogance.   I knew this when I had to suppress my desire to nudge the person next to me (a Jordanian) and point this wildly wonderful practice out.  I’ll leave it to you to play the scene out.  (Now I know that even if I had nudged my neighbor, the fall-out would have been negligible, pretty much just me looking a little foolish at being delighted by what to him would have been the most mundane and normal of practices. )

Part 3

What I most love about this example is the metaphor it holds for the minefield and flower-field possibilities of crossing cultures.   In this case, my assumption of sameness was corrected easily, privately and painlessly by a flipchart right in front of my eyes – and I got the joy of discovery of difference – what I will now call the flower-field effect.  But what about all those times I assume sameness with no flipchart in front of me showing me, no in fact, not the same.   This gets compounded when my other-culture colleagues, friends, hosts, might also be bound in their assumptions of what is normal, what everyone knows.    We miss one another, we don’t make progress, we offend, but are baffled as to why.  Given my frustrated work experiences in Jordan, I am guessing that those times happened often. 

Part 4

At end, I am grateful for this most tiny of punctuation marks reminding me to go slowly, question even when I am sure, watch, watch, watch, be alert for when my normal doesn’t seem to hold.  And then, the times when I see it, when I see the difference, to take it in, examine its meaning and extract what it tells me, especially what it tells me about my own culture.  

Because after all, ultimately, the gift of swimming in the oceans of other cultures is that you no longer swim blind in your own.  

Post Script:   If you ever happen to need to staple a document written in Arabic, please remember to staple it top right corner.