Views from the Third Floor: Culture Shock

When most people think of the word 'culture shock,' they think of the immediate, in-your-face differences that travelers find uncomfortable and well, foreign, when visiting other places.  It is much more than that, and I have been in the throes of culture shock for about six weeks.  Just like grief or addiction recovery there are steps and phases:

• the honeymoon phase
• negotiation phase
• adjustment phase
• mastery phase

I'm in the negotiation phase, very, very, very slowly making my way into the adjustment phase.  I'm not curled in the fetal position under the covers in the dark although I do miss friends and family very much. I feel frustrated, annoyed, and anxious much of the time.  I crave what is familiar.  I miss the things that have made my life comfortable, convenient, and easy.  I don't like that I wash my dishes in a tub while squatting on my bathroom floor.  I don't like that a trip to the grocery story is so involved.  I don't like that a rain shower can completely ruin my plans.  I miss variety, diversity and individuality.  Everything is 'same-same' here.  Everyone looks the same: black hair, black eyes, brown skin, same uniform, same shoes, same haircut, same hair bow.  What's for breakfast?  Rice and noodles.  What's for lunch?  Rice and noodles.  What's for dinner?  Rice and noodles. Thailand has one season, and it's hot and humid. 

People have asked me if I plan on staying longer.  Hell no.  The Thai lifestyle goes against everything I am made up of, and I think I would go insane.  If anyone could describe me using 3 words I'm sure they would be: 1) organized  2) neat  3) clean.  Thai people are poor communicators; they can't explain anything to you because they don't know themselves, nor do they seem interested in knowing for themselves.  Details are not important here.  Ignorance is bliss is becoming a new mantra.  I like to know what is going on.  I always have a plan, but here, even the best laid plans often go awry.  If I hear "Oh, I forgot to tell you..." one more time I might go postal.  Time is also of no consequence.  When you are asked to do something, it means right now, not at your earliest convenience.  Or you could sit around waiting and waiting and waiting.

The acceptable level of sanitation keeps me constantly amazed.  Bangkok smells like sewage gas and moth balls--even in my apartment.  How many people--adults--have I watched walk straight out of a toilet stall and out the door without a pit stop at the sink???  Too many.  Ugh.  Nose picking is an accepted practice here.  Excuse me, nose digging.  God, what do they do with it after.  I don't know because I stop looking.  Insects don't really bother me anymore.  I have lifted my plate off the dining table to allow a cockroach to scurry across it.  And I have picked numerous ants out of food and drink.  I've learned to deal with it. 

You may be reading this and thinking Robin's attitude stinks!  The honeymoon phase has worn off and this is my everyday, my reality.  I don't have easy ways to vent, and I can't take a break from it. It's fun and exciting on a two-week holiday, but the practical, modified, pared down life I am living has taken its toll.  I don't feel like my whole self.  I find it distracting, and it's making me restless.  My week is mundane, quite boring actually.  It's the adventure of the weekends that keeps me here.  It's the little moments and the friendships I've made that do make working through the frustrations worth it.