Anyone who knows me knows what a nut I am for intercultural exchanges. I've basically framed my entire life around it, from studying abroad when younger, living and working abroad most of my adult life, and researching it in both my undergrad and master's degrees. I love learning about cultures and figuring out which parts of each new culture that I encounter I'd like to adapt to create my own unique way of interacting with the world.
And while I enjoy a good book/movie/lecture on the topic, I sometimes forget that the smallest of exchanges are sometimes the most powerful. I was pleasantly reminded of this as I went about my seemingly ordinary errands over the past 24 hours.
Last night, I ran into the local market to buy some chocolate and toilet paper (you know, the essentials to go with the wine back at home) on my way down to my soccer game. As I went to pay, the friendly face behind the counter (we all know each other in this town, and I love that) asked me, "Amiga, what's your last name?" (He actually said the entire thing in Spanish but you get the point I'm making here). I told him, to which he replied, and your other last name? I told him I only had one and that most people in the United States only have their father's last name. He then asked, "But what happens to your mom's last name, then?" This then lead to an entire discussion about lineage dying out, cultural norms, etc. and the ironic fact that while most Latino cultures are considered more "Machismo" than American culture, yet Latino culture preserves both the mother's and father's last names for children while traditional American culture loses the moms and only takes the dads. Food for thought.....
(only inteded as a minor joke, not to provoke a debate on machismo....)
Then, this morning, I made my way down to the soccer field to work out and train with Loki. I probably enjoy the quiet and solitude of the field in the morning as much as I enjoy the workout. So, upon spotting an entire class of school kids playing soccer as I approached, I hesitated and almost sought a new spot. I decided to stick with it, and am glad I did. As I began my workout, I looked out and noticed that all of the girls were sitting on the sidelines while the boys (and 2 male teachers) played. I continued to work out when 4 of the little girls ran across the entire field to visit me. This 4 quickly turned into 17, yes 17 girls and boys joining in on my workout (my dad always said I was like the pied piper or kids and dogs).
I had them doing squat jumps, burpees, and "letter shapes with our bodies" (aka Yoga T poses--sorry, you can take the girl out of teaching but not the teacher out of the girl). So, thanks to me, there is a new group of indigenous children trained in parts of Body Pump classes from the YMCA. It was such a fun, impromptu morning and I loved every minute of it! Even better when I ran into one of the girls a few hours later in town and she shyly said, "We'll be on the field again tomorrow, will you?" This just might be the motivation I need to get my butt down there in the mornings :)
And while I enjoy a good book/movie/lecture on the topic, I sometimes forget that the smallest of exchanges are sometimes the most powerful. I was pleasantly reminded of this as I went about my seemingly ordinary errands over the past 24 hours.
Last night, I ran into the local market to buy some chocolate and toilet paper (you know, the essentials to go with the wine back at home) on my way down to my soccer game. As I went to pay, the friendly face behind the counter (we all know each other in this town, and I love that) asked me, "Amiga, what's your last name?" (He actually said the entire thing in Spanish but you get the point I'm making here). I told him, to which he replied, and your other last name? I told him I only had one and that most people in the United States only have their father's last name. He then asked, "But what happens to your mom's last name, then?" This then lead to an entire discussion about lineage dying out, cultural norms, etc. and the ironic fact that while most Latino cultures are considered more "Machismo" than American culture, yet Latino culture preserves both the mother's and father's last names for children while traditional American culture loses the moms and only takes the dads. Food for thought.....
(only inteded as a minor joke, not to provoke a debate on machismo....)
Then, this morning, I made my way down to the soccer field to work out and train with Loki. I probably enjoy the quiet and solitude of the field in the morning as much as I enjoy the workout. So, upon spotting an entire class of school kids playing soccer as I approached, I hesitated and almost sought a new spot. I decided to stick with it, and am glad I did. As I began my workout, I looked out and noticed that all of the girls were sitting on the sidelines while the boys (and 2 male teachers) played. I continued to work out when 4 of the little girls ran across the entire field to visit me. This 4 quickly turned into 17, yes 17 girls and boys joining in on my workout (my dad always said I was like the pied piper or kids and dogs).
I had them doing squat jumps, burpees, and "letter shapes with our bodies" (aka Yoga T poses--sorry, you can take the girl out of teaching but not the teacher out of the girl). So, thanks to me, there is a new group of indigenous children trained in parts of Body Pump classes from the YMCA. It was such a fun, impromptu morning and I loved every minute of it! Even better when I ran into one of the girls a few hours later in town and she shyly said, "We'll be on the field again tomorrow, will you?" This just might be the motivation I need to get my butt down there in the mornings :)
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