Our most recent group of international teachers had a recurring inside joke.
“Wait!”
Any time the teachers needed to say the word, they imitated the authoritative male voice of the talking crosswalk signals downtown. I was there the first few times they pressed the button. The voice from the light post does make you jump back, and certainly reminds you to “Wait!”
For the teachers from across the globe, this was a new thing, until it became a familiar thing.
The group of 22 teachers from 21 countries arrived in California on Jan. 21. That first week they attended a cross cultural communication seminar with instructor Tom Grothe. Tom described culture shock and explained how it can be unsettling for people who are suddenly in a new place with different ways that things are done. The teachers come with open minds and open hearts, and it’s usually fun to see them learn about things I take for granted.
How to load quarters in a coin-operated washing machine. An extra 8.25% in taxes on the purchase of those low-priced clothes at Ross. An expectation to add 20% (in addition to 8.25%) as a tip at a restaurant. Visitors from near the equator are surprised when the days are very short or very long. So many meals, so many French fries. All cars stop at stop lights, even if there is no one else on the road.
And just when everyone is acclimated, it’s time to go home.
When Nigar returned to Azerbaijan, she came to a crosswalk light and instinctively reached for the crosswalk button. Her town doesn’t have buttons at crosswalk signs and the voice that commands to “Wait!” was now only a memory.
One goal of the program is to widen the teachers’ perspectives on teaching, working with others and the world within which we live. They were here for only 5-and-a-half weeks, which is enough time to look at things a little differently. Sabby of Malaysia said she noticed how hot it was in her capital city after enjoying the spring weather of Northern California. Several teachers said they found American life to be very structured and punctual. Adjusting to a different pace seemed odd upon re-entry.
Tom gives a culture shock workshop when the teachers first arrive, and then a second workshop on re-entry shock soon before their return. He cautions that when the educators return home, they need to remember that for friends and family, everything has remained exactly the same.
Folks might not want to hear 5-and-a-half weeks worth of stories, or hear 18 new approaches to lesson planning, at least not all at once, he said. I can relate. When I return home from a long vacation, absolutely no one asks to sit down and look at my travel photos.
During the 5-and-a-half weeks with the group, I remained mostly in my hometown, but my life changed. I was focused on them, us, our schedule. I forget to check my mail. I called my mother only when I walked across a parking lot, and then simply to say that I was alive. I went days without checking the news, and then I was shocked to learn that so much had changed in the world.
I was part of a big, boisterous, generally happy family, with things to do and places to be.
And then, everyone waved goodbye.
The next day, everything was quiet.
On the first few nights after the mass departures, I woke up thinking I had forgotten to do something. Certainly I should be somewhere. Was I late? Then I went back to sleep.
After a few odd days, life caught up. I noticed the weeds in my yard and the dirty laundry or a funky smell in my refrigerator. I remembered to pay my rent.
Janelle from Barbados said the sudden quiet was strange when she returned. She had grown accustomed to our huge “family” of 22 teachers — the sounds, the mass footsteps, the words to “hurry up,” or the giggles after pressing the “Wait!” sign. And now her headspace contained mostly only her own thoughts.
This week I went into work, but I was still a bit maladjusted. After sleeping for 12 hours, I parked in the way-yonder parking spots at campus. I knew it was spring break and that’s why the parking lot was mostly empty. I also knew if I parked near the health center, I could still get a ticket.
I worked and saw no one in my office hallway. This was normal on spring break. After work, I walked across the deserted parking lot. It was only when I turned on my car radio that I realized it was Sunday and not Monday.
