aryanaco
Jan 22, 2011
Undergraduate / "benevolent people are everywhere" - Peace Corps Cross Cultural Essay [2]
I step outside the plane and presently begin gasping for air. A nearby vendor, selling what appears to be aerosol cans labeled "oxygen," beckons me. My body, clearly unaccustomed to the altitude, readily complies. Leaning against a wall with my newly purchased can of life, I begin to tune in to my surroundings: loud and lively Spanish interchange, copious Catholic iconography, and incessant car horns. It becomes apparent, I am truly in a foreign world, and, for the time being, I am on my own.
Last year, after months of planning and anxious anticipation, I found myself in Cusco, Peru. With a nearly blank itinerary, I intended to spend several weeks simply immersing myself in a new culture. I had read ethnographies, travelogues, and travel guides, but I soon discovered that the unknown would keep me on my toes, regardless of my preparation.
Upon my arrival, after exiting the airport, numerous non-licensed taxi drivers (none who spoke English) bombarded me with offers to escort me to my hostel. Skeptical about the safety of such arrangements, I decided to band with other lone travelers, and eventually found someone who needed a ride to the same hostel as I did.
My hostel, however, failed to provide me the minimum comfort and security that I had expected; and my uneasiness was confirmed the following night when another American traveler was mugged just outside the entrance. Were I to enjoy the trip, I simply needed gain a sense of security.
The following day, with the assistance of several locals, I found my way to the Plaza De Armas-the city's center. This, I accurately surmised, was the better part of town. After scouting out a new hostel, I made reservations and returned to my previous hostel to let them know I would be leaving them prematurely (which, I might add, was a difficult exchange, considering the language barrier).
Finally, I felt safe. But I was still a stranger, a tourist. The purpose of my trip was to have a cultural experience, and I was on day three with nothing to show for it.
I began spending my nights in my hostel avidly reading about Peruvian culture and memorizing useful Spanish phrases. My days were then spent searching out opportunities to spark conversations. Soon, I kindled relationships with several South Americans and began to fill my days with group excursions and evening palavers. Gleaning from their friendly advice, I learned how to stay safe, be polite, and simply blend in. Within two weeks, Cusco felt like home, and I was having the edifying experience that I had hoped for.
Among the numerous lessons I learned during my travels, I discovered that there are benevolent people everywhere; moreover, they are the key to becoming accepted and integrated into a new social environment. I've gained much useful experience that will be indispensible in the Peace Corps, but I now know that seeking out the right relationships is most vital.
Peru / South-American Culture
I step outside the plane and presently begin gasping for air. A nearby vendor, selling what appears to be aerosol cans labeled "oxygen," beckons me. My body, clearly unaccustomed to the altitude, readily complies. Leaning against a wall with my newly purchased can of life, I begin to tune in to my surroundings: loud and lively Spanish interchange, copious Catholic iconography, and incessant car horns. It becomes apparent, I am truly in a foreign world, and, for the time being, I am on my own.
Last year, after months of planning and anxious anticipation, I found myself in Cusco, Peru. With a nearly blank itinerary, I intended to spend several weeks simply immersing myself in a new culture. I had read ethnographies, travelogues, and travel guides, but I soon discovered that the unknown would keep me on my toes, regardless of my preparation.
Upon my arrival, after exiting the airport, numerous non-licensed taxi drivers (none who spoke English) bombarded me with offers to escort me to my hostel. Skeptical about the safety of such arrangements, I decided to band with other lone travelers, and eventually found someone who needed a ride to the same hostel as I did.
My hostel, however, failed to provide me the minimum comfort and security that I had expected; and my uneasiness was confirmed the following night when another American traveler was mugged just outside the entrance. Were I to enjoy the trip, I simply needed gain a sense of security.
The following day, with the assistance of several locals, I found my way to the Plaza De Armas-the city's center. This, I accurately surmised, was the better part of town. After scouting out a new hostel, I made reservations and returned to my previous hostel to let them know I would be leaving them prematurely (which, I might add, was a difficult exchange, considering the language barrier).
Finally, I felt safe. But I was still a stranger, a tourist. The purpose of my trip was to have a cultural experience, and I was on day three with nothing to show for it.
I began spending my nights in my hostel avidly reading about Peruvian culture and memorizing useful Spanish phrases. My days were then spent searching out opportunities to spark conversations. Soon, I kindled relationships with several South Americans and began to fill my days with group excursions and evening palavers. Gleaning from their friendly advice, I learned how to stay safe, be polite, and simply blend in. Within two weeks, Cusco felt like home, and I was having the edifying experience that I had hoped for.
Among the numerous lessons I learned during my travels, I discovered that there are benevolent people everywhere; moreover, they are the key to becoming accepted and integrated into a new social environment. I've gained much useful experience that will be indispensible in the Peace Corps, but I now know that seeking out the right relationships is most vital.
