Culture Shock

Sometimes I just don’t understand people.

We live in a duplex. Last evening, it was a little chilly out. Our neighbor decided to build a fire. An open pit flame. In the carport. The wood carport that we share. The wood carport attached to our house and covering our cars. Flames shooting into the air higher than he is tall. Sparks flying. As we were leaving the house to head off to our evening plans, I heard him yell into his part of the house, “Hey, are you bringing me another beer?”

No possible way this could end badly, huh? 

Thankfully, it didn’t end badly… at least not as badly as it could have. He didn’t burn the building down, but our living room smells a bit like a campfire. Things that make you go “hmmm”. 

Maybe this isn’t unusual, I don’t know. I would never think of building a small bonfire in my carport. To me, that seems asinine. To our neighbor, it was apparently perfectly normal. I have no idea what the purpose was for his building a fire; if he was cooking or if he was simply nostalgic for a few bars of “Kum Ba Yah”. 

Culture Shock? Maybe. Or maybe just plain old shock. 

If all goes according to plan, in the none-too-distant future our family will be joining another vastly different culture. We have much to learn in preparation for our transition. There will be a lot of norms that will seem peculiar to us. And, no matter how hard we try, we will do things that will seem peculiar to the folks we will be encountering. Ideally, we’ll all learn from each other and laugh a little together about our gaffes. And maybe we’ll come away better as a result.

Hopefully, though, neither of us will try to burn the house down.