Humorous
Before I came here, to the USA, I was if not the life of the party, at least its cynical conscience. I laughed a lot, made fun of others and myself, and my sense of humor was both a social tool and a relief from the patently absurd.
It all changed when I arrived here. Suddenly, my mental images are not good anymore, the silences surround me, and the description of another possibility loses its charm, the sarcasm is misunderstood, and the joke fails.
It is not just the cultural difference. Hear Bea speak.
Now, trying to cope with this foreign culture and language, the ideas do not flow, and rather stay in my brain, stagnant, trapped like animal outside their natural habitat. I can even see their eyes, looking and pleading for help, as if by some extraordinary effort of will I could rescue them from the morass of misunderstandings and lack of context. Every phrase has to create its own universe, and every word received has to be part of a definite context.
I become serious and dull. Or the answer would come later on, in Spanish, in English, a brilliant latecomer that missed the party.
It is not age, Bea, but that we miss the encouraging echo of our childhood friends' voices, the ones that understood about Abelardo and Archibaldo, those friends that knew about the giant papayas, the same ones that simply enjoyed the description of a guanábana. There is no translation for this nostalgy.
Comments
I know exactly what you mean. I guess that's why I laugh most when I'm around my siblings, because we share the cultural background of the islands. We can crack jokes we understand and appreciate. Otherwise, what's humor.
Posted by: Ailina | February 4, 2003 2:40 AM
It works the other way too. I've had the experience of feeling like a dim-witted child while living abroad. I've even had it while at social events with Latin American or Indian friends in this country where I wanted to participate fully in the conversation but felt like I'd be dragging everyone down to my level if I jumped in. So I either eavesdrop or end up speaking English in the corner with the monoglots.
The good news is that I've known enough fully bicultural people to believe that with patience and perseverance those feelings can go away. I've never quite immersed myself deep enough and long enough in another culture to get there but I've seen it done.
Posted by: Prentiss Riddle | February 4, 2003 10:29 AM