Expectations of going abroad in your college years include "independence," "freedom," and some other buzzwords you can find in the Star Spangled Banner.
Or you turn out like this:
Regardless of where you go, new environments force you to be a student. Your schemas are disrupted, which means that learning takes place. Assumptions are challenged, and adaptability is tested. Cambodians are known for smiling when they get upset, which is a cultural difference I can't seem to adopt, since I may or may not be someone who cried when the immigrations officer used a patronizing voice at me.
Below are some lessons I've encountered while being a somewhat self-sufficient American woman in Phnom Penh.
1. Know where you are, and know where you're going.
This might seem like a broad statement about having "goals" and a "direction" in life. For right now, I'm just talking about getting from point A to point B. Gone are the days of day-dreaming in the back of an Uber; tuk-tuk drivers expect you to help navigate to get to your destination. If ride-sharing apps back home ditched GPS, I think I'd end up sending my driver around the same left turn four or five times before getting kicked out of the car. (At school, I'm more inclined to say "left Boston" and "right Boston" instead of learning the cardinal directions). My sense of direction has improved out of necessity, and I try to be alert to my surroundings. On that note:
2. Standing out helps...
If I have to cross the road, I'm drawing as much attention to myself as possible. Instead of roadsigns, there's a honking system. Drivers just honk as they zoom up to an intersection. If you're another approaching driver, one of you respects the honk and gets out of the way. Hopefully. Making myself noticeable is the only way to make my way across the street.
In a city, the idea of standing out can feel brave, like a mini "I am woman, hear me roar" moment. I might invest in a heavy-duty airhorn to replace my wimpy bicycle bell.
Standing out is also a symptom of being the only Westerner in the dorm. My different background is the space for mutual exchange with the Harpswell girls, as opposed to a traditional student/teacher relationship. Whether it's with food, pop culture, or academics, "standing out" is code for "time to adapt."
3. ...but sometimes blending in is safe.
The first time I went to a pool in Phnom Penh, I eased into the water as the one white chick, in a bikini, without a swim cap to cover my ginger locks. There were more stares than usual. It made for a less-than relaxing swim.
Wearing non-touristy clothing (read: covering shoulders and knees) is not only culturally appropriate, but also helps to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Sticking to crowded, well-known streets also mitigates the onslaught of drivers and sellers shouting for your attention.
I also recognize that "blending in" is a gendered precaution. Modesty is key to a woman's condition across cultures. Our safety is a burden that we wear — literally, in our clothing, our skin, and how we physically present ourselves. But we can bust open that can of feminist worms later.
4. A different language is not simply a barrier.
Even though I'm the one in a foreign country, people will apologize for not speaking my language. English is the global tongue, and a major privilege. I've been able to navigate life in a new place because others speak my language, not the other way around.
Language barriers are daunting, frustrating, and leave some feeling ignorant and others feeling entitled — sort of like Trump's border wall. However, language barriers are different in that 1. they actually exist, and 2. they can be a positive thing. Language barriers should bring both humility and creativity to the traveler. Sometimes you just have to hold up a dollar bill and point to bananas to get your message across.
Not understanding the words in a language can be the perfect time to listen. You're more tuned into how people are using tone, gestures, or laughter to communicate. More importantly, language can reflect a culture's values. For instance, Khmer-speakers use "sister," "brother," and "aunty" when referring to each other, and this absence in English reveals a less collectivist culture. (This is meant to be a simplification, not a sweeping stereotype).
Then there's the fact that there isn't a word for "feminism" in Khmer. I don't want to exaggerate, but that linguistic barrier has been hurdled, trampled, and set on fire by the Harpswell girls.
5. Being adaptable isn't always exciting.
There's an image of adapting to different cultures that looks like trying "exotic" foods, and unfamiliar modes of transportation, and a rush of exciting experiences.
Adaptation is less about a willingness to try new things, and more about the patience to handle uncomfortable things. Culture shock is real. It's in the climate, in the communication style, and in the way things are done. See above about me crying at time when a Cambodian might smile.
The hotter it gets, the more desperate I am to wear a tank top with shorts. Everyone around me, however, layers their clothing to avoid the sun. Picture hoodies and gloves in 100ºF. Socks and sandals to protect the feet, too. Shielding skin from the sun demonstrates how whiteness is idealized; this norm is reinforced in my struggle to find a body wash that doesn't promise to bleach my skin. Trying to justify white people in tanning booths would be interesting. For now, I've resigned to the constant sweating in my jeans. No part of me, however, is questioning my belief that sweaters in the heat is counterintuitive. Clothing is a simple example of not just feeling out of place, but also stubbornly assured that my culture must be the one that *makes sense.*
Adaptability is about patience and discomfort, but more importantly, it's about acceptance and respect.
The Takeaway
The point of going abroad is to feel a little smaller. That smallness, rather than being debilitating, is part of the growth process. It's perspective-building. Think of perspectives like muscles. When you exercise, your muscles rip and tear before growing bigger. Our perspectives likewise need to be ripped and torn in order to become stronger. These times of smallness are necessary to get #ripped. #girlgainz.
Thanks again for checking in!