Going Deep

For the required Central College Abroad course on Thursday, we met with students from the WU (Wirtschaftsuniversität, squint at the last part of that word and you should be able to figure out that it's one of the universities in Vienna) who are taking a course on intercultural communication in preparation for studying abroad in the United States next semester. We had each prepared posters on cultural differences between Austria and America (the normal stuff: Americans are fat, but have lots of social mobility; Austria is not Australia, but has a strong social welfare state; etc.) Then we ate lunch together at the WU cafeteria. The word got out that I went to Harvard (because I met a kid who'll be studying at Bentley University, which is apparently in Waltham, even though I'd never heard of it before), and everyone wanted to see my student ID card. Then, somehow, the other Americans left, but I got roped back into the classroom for another four hours of intercultural communication class, in German this time.

And my God, was I glad I stayed.



We spent most of the class period enacting role-plays of so-called "critical incidents" -- things that real German exchange students in America found puzzling, and that reveal key aspects of American culture as it differs from German/Austrian culture. Each role-play presented a situation that unfolded in a different way than the German exchange student expected. There were then four options to explain the Americans' somewhat strange behavior, and our job was to guess what the Americans were thinking when they did what they do. I, of course, knew the answers immediately -- even though they were things that I've never thought about consciously -- and it was so hilarious to watch the Austrian students struggling to figure out why we do such "crazy" things. Some of my favorite ones:

• The German student asks an American "section buddy" for help with a comp sci assignment that she's already completed, but he's disappointed that she only answers him in generalities rather than just offering up the work. The Austrians thought this was because Americans are competitive, but the real answer is that we place a high value on figuring out what we can do as individuals. The explanation was worded hilariously -- "It is even the case that Americans DON'T look at each other's exam papers." When my Austrian groupmate read this, he looked at me and said, "No, that can't be true!" And I know that it isn't true, really. Every American student has looked at someone else's paper at some point in their academic career. But the difference is that we consider what we're doing cheating; although deviance occurs, doing your own work remains the norm. In Austria, apparently, there's more of a collective mentality, in which all students see themselves as united against the professor, their common enemy. In America, I would say, we all want the professor's good favor.

• A German exchange student is invited to eat dinner with an American couple. The discussion turns to politics, and the husband says, "You have to pay a lot of taxes in Germany, right?" The German student says, "Yeah, but the streets are clean at least. Here everything is so dirty," and the couple is offended. The Austrians couldn't decide if it was because Americans believe that everything their government does is right, or if it wasbecause we consider it rude for foreigners to make negative comments about the country (the correct answer). I was asked whether we considered it a betrayal for Americans to make negative comments about America, and I explained it in terms of the family: It's okay for me to say that my brother is a lazy, fat loser (not true), but if someone else says it, that's an insult. Americans, I would say, feel the same way about our home cities, our religions, and America overall. When someone at Harvard told me, "I visited Pittsburgh once. I didn't like it; there was nothing to do," I was kind of offended, even though I spent most of my teenage years saying the same thing. In the same way, I don't actually care if people make fun of America here, but it's definitely something I have to prepare myself for mentally. When a joke about American stupidity was inserted randomly into a lecture on Weber's theory of social inequality, for example, my defenses weren't up, and it felt a little like a punch.

• The German exchange student invites a lot of people from different friend circles to a goodbye dinner. He's nervous that things won't go smoothly, but everyone seems to be having a great time. Shortly after dinner, however, people begin excusing themselves and leaving the party. The German can't figure out what went wrong, because in Germany and Austria, as my groupmates assured me, going to dinner with friends at 4pm means that you'll sit, drink, and talk until at least two in the morning. In America, of course, inviting someone to dinner means that you'll eat dinner together, and then they can plan something else for later that night. To general amazement and amusement, I passed around my iCal, in which I had blocked off two hours (only two! instead of eight or nine!) for Stammtisch at the Goethe-Institut. (Digital calendars like this are really built for the American conception of time, in which not only is the starting point important, but the ability to map out the hours to cram as much as possible into the day.) Since I've come to Europe, I've tried to alter my time expectations to fit this model. But on Friday night, I blocked off three hours (rather than the 1.5 I normally would) for a dinner with colleagues at my internship site. The dinner lasted five, however, not counting an invitation to go to a club afterwards that I refused because I had plans the following morning. 

It's at times like this that all these years of memorizing word lists and doing grammar exercises seems worth it. Speaking German in Austria isn't necessary for basic communication, but without a high language ability, I would never have been able to participate in this discussion and peek so deeply into the Austrian mindset.