All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Cultural Collision MAG
As I stepped off the plane, I wasovercome by humidity. I couldn't believe how hot and sticky the air was,it was unlike anything I had experienced. I felt overwhelmed.
Ientered the airport and was checked rigorously by a customs official.After what felt like an eternity, my family and I entered the lobby,where a milky ocean surrounded me. Everything seemed to blend together.Regaining my composure, I noticed the ocean was really hoards of peopledressed in white. I remembered seeing the same dress in a world culturesbook once.
From their hats, I concluded they were Muslims,returning from their pilgrimage to Mecca. It was strange to see so manypeople at once. I continued across the lobby, but suddenly felt manyeyes scrutinizing me. Hastily, I checked my appearance. Nothing felt outof the ordinary - I had worn this outfit a million times and couldn'tfigure out why everyone was staring. Then I realized my colossalmistake. By wearing above-the-knee denim shorts in a country where girlsdo not dress according to the weather, I had committed a taboo. I hadstumbled upon a rock of etiquette in my native culture, where East andWest are on a collision course.
I was in India, home of myancestors, home of many cultures. I found myself submerged in a culturewhere the modern and ancient coexist, though not in harmony. In mynative land, I felt alienated from both my identities. My passport toldme I was an American, but my skin color told me I was not. My genes toldme I was an Indian, but my language told me I was not. My life was polaropposites, and I hung in the balance somewhere in-between. Or, perhaps Iwas like a swinging pendulum, moving back and forth; always indecisivewhere to rest. Whichever the case, living in two cultures has created anidentity crisis for me.
Where do I belong? Living in bothcultures has proven time and again to be a great asset, but at times Ifeel pushed to the outside of the circle of one culture even as I amexamined under the other's microscope. As an American, I made no mistakeby wearing denim shorts on a humid day but I had forgotten thepracticality of my American culture isn't always acceptable in my Indianculture.
Despite my occasional cultural faux pas, both culturescontribute to who I am, and I am glad to be wedded to both.
Learning the Inuipat Ways by Maggie K., Teller, AK
?Viva Franco? by Aly R., Newbury, VT
A Cyclist's View by David L., Abilene, KS
The Big Decision by Stacey Z., New City, NY
Welcome to Rijeka, Croatia by Andrej M., Huntingdon Valley, PA
Across the Atlantic by Siobhan M., Congers, NY
Wet Asphalt by Paulina M., Gilford, NH
By Nicole N., Wilton, CT
Published by The Young Authors Foundation, Inc. - A 501(c)3 nonprofit organization.
Thispublication may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system ortransmitted in any form or by any means,
without the writtenpermission of the publisher: The Young Authors Foundation, Inc.