We live in a world with
different cultures, just as we always have. Now more than ever we are combining
our space for living by persuading those of other cultures in. This has become
a phenomenon all over the world. Relationships are charismatic and necessary in
today’s society. Existing in a digital world is no absence for people these
days, a simple letter in the mailbox to a friend is no longer the same,
photographs have evolved into a whole new era, cell phones are the largest form
of our communication usage, and many other changes have come into place as time
passes. With all these changes emerging daily, it is evident that building
relationships from diverse cultures is a positive move on our parts as humans.
The hardest animal to get along with is a human.
In my culture my
ancestors such as my grandmother who is said to be Chippewa taught me,” The land does not
belong to you. Instead it is you whom belongs to the land. We come into this
world and we borrow the land. We do not own it. For in the end the land owns us
and we are indeed turned back into the earth” (Marie Elizabeth Curtice). "One
does not sell the land people walk on." (Crazy Horse). My favorite Ancient
Indian Proverb, “Treat the earth well: it was not given to you by your parents,
it was loaned to you by your children. We do not inherit the Earth from our
ancestors, we borrow it from our children." It is a shame to obtain food
in my culture from the soils of the land and not to share with others even if
they are of different colors and cultures. To let one starve is to let one die
at your hands”, my grandmother would say as she would walk to the river and
gift white fishermen with a surprise lunch as they fished her trails. I have
carried on the culture of feeding the people. With recipes from one generation
to the next and the ability to harvest from any given land no stomach goes
hungry around me.
Envision leaving
America and going to a foreign country for a 60 day visit on a tiny, alluring
tropical resort. This would signify paradise to most. Unable to speak much of
the language, minimal knowledge of their cultures including the foods,
festivals, music, and other things that make a culture what it is. This was my
lost soul a few years ago. Flying into paradise or so as I thought. I flew in
as the sun was rising over the Indian Ocean to the country of Mauritius never
to return home for 2 years.
This was an enormous
cultural shock. To this day many wonder how I made it alive and how I was able
to survive. Adaption and building relationships from different cultures was my
key to survival while applying parts of my culture to my daily tasks. Although
it was necessary for me to learn to cook their foods, I also made them taste
mine. They enjoyed Native American foods. Food always brings people together
just as my grandmother would announce each holiday with a smile on her face, a
turkey in one hand, and a venison tenderloin in the other. Despite the fact I
was willing to adapt. Even though, I tried the foods there eating bees was not
on my menu. The people in the village I stayed in argued the fact that I could
grow a garden in the volcanic soil. “What are you doing saving these seeds and
why are you drying them out”, they inquired. “I told you I am going to grow a
garden”, I stated. They snickered at me, “You are a dreamer, it will never
happen”. I gave it lots of determination, sunshine, prayers, and water and I
had a beautiful garden. I had produce over 10,000 Roma tomatoes from the seeds
of 3 tomatoes they had bought at the store. I planted 54 tomato plants. Much
like tomatoes I had an abundance of hot peppers a staple in Indian and Mauritian
recipes. The herbs began from a root cutting. I then would let a few grow to
seed themselves. Romaine lettuce was perfected by placing it into the grown
that I had well fertilized. I would cut off the bottom part of the lettuce when
they bought it and place it in the grown. Leeks and onions we plentiful. Food
made them happy. So joyous they ceased the garden for themselves and began
selling all the vegetables that were left over. This was a mistake on their
part. The garden was no longer blessed. The harvest came to a halt. It produced
no more and was cursed. They did not pay attention to my techniques and all was
gone the sun dried everything. Then the land next to them they were given
permission to use that the garden was on was sold and they were no longer
authorized usage. The relationship between them and I grew when the garden
grew. The relationship between the villagers and the land deceased when my
relationship with the soil was robbed.
I recall a time when
the grandmother of the village came to me with a bowl of food and ask if I will
warm it for her in the microwave. I asked her if she knew how to use a
microwave. She said no. She hastily informed me that if she used it that it
will blow up. I laughed so hard. That day she realized what technology was and
that it was of no danger to her. From that day, she heated her own food and
smiled every time she did. I came from a culture to teach her culture. I kept
that in my mind frame and it kept me well.
Languages were abundant
on that island. By the time a child reached is 8 they will have been introduced
and speak at the minimum 4 languages. In Mauritius, the political organization
is divided into four linguistic communities among which are Hindus, Muslims,
Sino-Mauritians, and the general population.
Contrarily to the two other communities, Hindu and Muslim communities differ
from the others because of their belonging to a religious group. This
organization of languages enables the islanders to communicate with one another
as needed in government, schooling, employment, festivities, retail, and
building relationships. Among the two languages I came to the island knowing
English and French, I later was able to learn more. This helped me when I ran
out of money. It was vital after my funds were spent by the villagers for me to
obtain employment. Money is what also abetted keeping me alive. I obtained a
job as an English teacher for a company in Mauritius that was owned by France.
I began teaching French business people through the phone. Calling France each
day and teaching them. They taught me more of their culture while I educated
them with my Native American English as well as my culture. I was given a promotion within 3 months of
working there.
I was approached one
day by one of the Mauritian-Pakistan directors of the corporation. He inquired
if I would give him personal lessons and a few others in the country. Obtaining
several extra accounts I had the joy of teaching a Franco- Mauritian whom managed
the Mauritius Commercial Bank (MCB) in Port Louis, a Hindu Mauritian who was an
executive of the bank, and two beautiful Muslim Indian children of another bank
executive. I was wealthier than the money I made. Through learning their
cultures and speaking languages with them I was able to build relationships
that were priceless. Relationships that gave understanding and hope. I was also
able to learn that one of the languages I had heard spoken at the house I was
kept in was Arabic. With time and teaching English to the Mauritian-Pakistan, I
was able to grasp more of the cultural ways of the e household I was living in.
I photographed my
paintings and my time away from the house I was kept in. These photographs relayed
a message back to the USA that I was still alive. Technology catechize at that
time to be the great courier to my family back home. Though, there were times I
was given authorization to use the internet to sell reprints of paintings and
give the village my money from the sales, I utilized this time for myself as
well. It is during this time I would use the internet to post paintings,
pictures, and write a small blog. I was able to do as much as I could to make
my family think I was alright. The last thing I wanted was for them to see or
hear something horrific happening to me, as I was often threatened. If I were
to inform them the truth of what was happening this would end my life and admit
to my family I was wrong for visiting this place when they warned me of. Photographing
paradise was no challenge but picturing hell was a war. A war of my own in
which I would have to defend myself by building relationships with unknown
cultures. I come from America. America is a very media oriented culture. We
love to photograph and update things in our lives. This cultural trait of mine
was a blessing sent back home. If the photos would have stopped then my family
said they would have known I no longer existed.
To this day I speak to
France. I talk to my boss. I teach him my language. He keeps me up to date on
his. He has offered me a position with France again as an English teacher. I
remain friends with a few I had worked with in Mauritius. I learned their
culture, I taught them mine. They spoke their language, I shared mine. I
brought them foods, they fed me theirs.
Communication usage was
the key to living, for all those whom wish to inquire of my strongest technique
for survival. Part of my culture also stems from my training in the military
and being raised a military brat. Without psychologically altering the thoughts
of another culture and the use of proper communication would I have survived? You
tell me. Grow a garden and see. Build a relationship with another culture it
can last a lifetime.
Works
Cited
Lewis and Clark. Native
American Quotes about Land Ownership. The Unheard Voices. Anti-Defamation League. 2005. http://archive.adl.org/education/curriculum_connections/na_quotes.html
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