Embarrasing Moments

Heather’s link to what she wants made me think about my first few months in the United States.

For some reason, I didn’t have many culture shocks. Even though Turkey is over 99percent white and over 99percent Muslim, I didn’t seem to have a severe issue with the differences. I did, on the other hand, have some embarrassing moments.

On my first day in Pittsburgh, my parents and I went to open a bank account. While my mother waited, Dad and I sat with the lady from Mellon Bank, talking about my different account options. In the middle of our exchange, some random guy, who was opening his own account, walks up to me and says, “I hear you’re new in town, so am I. Here’s my number. Call me and we can hang out.” Right in front of my father and the Mellon Bank woman. The lady from the bank looks at me and smiles. “I see you’re making some friends already.”

Cause I am a total weirdo, I did call the guy the next night. During the phone call, he must have used the word cool at least a zillion times. Up until that moment, the word cool meant something between warm and cold to me. It took me several months to acquire the colloquialisms they never teach you when you learn English. Most of my friends can tell quite entertaining (or embarrassing, as the case may be for me) stories from those days.

Back to my point. One of the only culture shock moments I had was in relation to the words on that T-shirt. Personal space. I come from a country where guys and girls all kiss each other hello. I mean guys kiss guys and girls kiss girls and girls kiss guys and vice versa. Not on the lips, mind you, but on the cheek. On both cheeks. I walk hand in hard with many of my friends. I hug them, I tell my close friends how much I love them. It’s not a sexual thing, it’s cultural, I guess. When I came here for college, I was totally shocked by what people consider a personal question. And by how much people resent your being ‘in their space’. For the longest time I couldn’t figure out what that space even is. It seemed to be an invisible barrier I was unable to see.

In the past few years, I’ve worked hard at recognizing the barrier, but I still have no idea why people need to have it so badly.

Previously? Mind Your Manners!