One year down

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of our arrival in Grenada. Even after a year, it still blows my mind that we live here. I am constantly saying to C.J. or anyone else who will listen, "isn't it crazy, we live in the Caribbean!"

Moving here has expanded our life experience exponentially. I suspect it has changed us in ways that we're not even aware of yet. It's not just a year of flip flops, no TV and mosquito bites (although we've had all that).

It's been a year of learning respect for things that are different and a lesson in patience. It's been a year of appreciation for things we took for granted and closer examination of things we thought were a no brainer. And a year of recognizing what makes up our own values and identity.

There was a short segment on culture in C.J.'s behavioral science class this summer. The purpose of this was to acknowledge that different cultures may affect the way you diagnose and treat your patients.

His notes defined culture as the thing that makes you feel like a stranger when you are away from home. I thought that simple definition made so much sense.

In a lot of ways, I still feel like a stranger here. I am constantly reminded of the things about this country that are so different from my own. The three-quarter size refrigerator in my apartment, the mango trees growing on every corner, the unpaved road we live on, the reggae buses, the goats tethered along the side of the "highway," foods with names like callaloo and lambie...the list is never ending.

In some ways I take the differences in stride after a year. I'm proud to say I've mastered driving on the left side of the road. I can interpret the accent a little better. I can calculate the conversion rate of Eastern Caribbean dollars to US dollars quickly in my head ($10EC = $4US, $20EC = $8US, $50EC = $20US and so on).

But there are so many things I still don't fully understand about what it means to be Grenadian. Just what it feels like to be from a tropical island, to only know one kind of weather, to expect to sweat constantly as a part of life year round. To use a machete like it is a pocket knife, eat salt fish and like it, play a steel drum instead of a guitar. To not drive until I'm 18 (driving age here) or not use air conditioning in my home. To know fast food is the guy cooking chicken on a grill outside of a rum shack and accept as normal stray dogs roaming free in the streets.

It's caused me to ponder this question recently, can anyone ever truly understand a different culture? For me, I think the answer is no.

I have acclimated to the currency, the food, the etiquette (always address a Grenadian formally with a "good morning" or "good afternoon"). But there is a deeper culture of spirituality, world view and shared history that I will never fully grasp from living here.

Culture is our identity. And my identity is firmly and forever American. Before moving here that identity, that culture, was invisible to me. It was just the thing that made life predictable, easy, familiar.

Here the invisible becomes visible. So many things here that are so outside of my comfort zone, foreign and bewildering.

After a year I still feel it every day. When I wait in an endless line at the pharmacy. When I try to give someone directions to my house but there are no street signs to direct them. When I turn the propane on to light my stove. When I take a walk and see the ocean beyond every hill and around every corner (well that part is not bewildering, it's beautiful).

And now we only have 10 months left. We are on the downhill. Although I've decided I can never fully understand the culture here, I want to try and take advantage of every unique thing about living here that I can before we leave. Feeling like a stranger is not necessarily a bad thing.