To Dwell in Possibility

Campus being all gorgeous

Grey Day on the Chester

I've toyed with the idea of updating my Malaysia/ exchange blog for what has been years now, but because I am an overstressed college student, it took an actual assignment to do so...
That being said, I'm really excited to share with you all that I do plan on continue blogging! Now that I've updated the format of my blog, made it more me-focused as opposed to Malaysia-focused, I hope to more regularly post on what I've been up to. This will include travel reflections/ journals, my thoughts on various issues, photography, and updates from my life as a college student. My family has also been hosting exchange students since I returned in 2013, and I have all sorts of fun stories I can share from those experiences.
While this blog is no longer solely for exchange, I do want to say that my time abroad has shaped me in immeasurable ways and there's no way I will be able to write without it influencing my words. I'll likely still have tales of reverse culture shock (even almost three years later), and what it is like to be an alumna of the YES Abroad and AFS Programs. Exchange never really leaves a person, a topic I hope to discuss in depth on this blog. I've also included information about my exchange programs on the top of my blog because I really believe that every person should leave their home country, and exchange is an incredibly unique way to do so.
I'm sure that there will, of course, be the occasional post about how much I miss Malaysian food, perhaps even some Malaysian restaurant views? There are some good ones in New York City but I have yet to find nasi lemak that tastes as good as the kind wrapped in newspaper from the nasi uncle on Saturday mornings.
For now, I'll leave you with a little bit about my college experience thus far. As of today at 2:15 pm, when I complete my Spanish oral exam, I will be officially done with my first semester at Washington College. WAC, as we lovingly refer to the school, has become a home to me over the past four months and has so much to offer in the way of both academic and social experiences. As of now, I'm on track to double major in International Studies and Anthropology, and hopefully minor in Spanish, Chinese, and Music. I'm looking at spending my junior year abroad in Argentina and China, and am also very excited to share that I will be traveling to Cuba over winter break as an Ethnomusicology course, and heading to Tanzania in May for a course in development. I'm planning on traveling to ten new countries before I graduate, so I wanted to start early. Wish me luck.
I look forward to sharing my experiences with you, dear readers, thank you for following me over the years and I hope you enjoy the new things I have to offer.

A Henna tattoo I had done in Malaysia

Headed off to prom

I wore a sari to my senior prom. It was beautiful-- black, gold, and red with elaborate embroidery and beading. I felt like a princess swathed in yards of the embellished fabric with intricate henna designs covering my arms. My hair had been arranged in a curly up-do and I had sparkling gold heels dyed to match the sari fabric. I posted pictures to Facebook and Instagram, and while I received no negative comments, I am sure that someone, somewhere looked at my outfit and immediately thought cultural appropriation.

Jezebel defines cultural appropriation as, “"Taking intellectual property, traditional knowledge, cultural expressions, or artifacts from someone else's culture without permission," (Baker). It is a topic often thrust into the limelight this time of year, as costumes with derogatory titles such as “Pocahottie,” or “Pow Wow Wow Woman,” hit the shelves at popular Halloween stores. Both of those costume names were taken off of the website of the Spirit Halloween store. It is clear that these costumes insult someone else’s culture and warp generations of traditions, but cultural appropriation is not always this easy to identify, particularly in the context of foreign exchange programs. These programs are designed to teach young people about different cultures. Cultural appropriation, much like the cultures in question, is never black or white. There is a blurry line between appreciation and appropriation, which gets only blurrier when discussing globalization and Westernization. Society as a whole should be called out for blatant misuse and abuse of another’s culture, but correctly pointing fingers at appropriation becomes challenging when you have a foreigner living as an exchange student in a foreign culture.

When I did make the decision to post my sari pictures on social media, I was sure to include a caption that described why I chose to wear a sari. The particular sari I wore was one that I picked out with one of my best Malaysian friends, Pooja. Pooja, her family, and I had taken a venture into Little India in my host city of Ipoh for the sole purpose of finding me a prom sari, two years before my actual prom. We went to at least four different stores looking for the perfect one before settling on the black and gold number. Pooja’s father helped me locate a tailor to get my sari blouse custom made, and her mother engaged in some fierce bargaining with the shopkeeper so I wouldn’t get slammed with the high foreigner price for such an item. Most meaningful to me, Pooja and another group of friends at my school pooled their money to buy me a beautiful set of golden bangles to match my sari. My sari and my jewelry had their own unique stories but were also smaller parts of my exchange student story as a whole.

The topic of cultural appropriation is very often discussed in relation to exchange students. The students with whom I went abroad are some of the most socially conscious and bright young people I have met, so they were naturally concerned about appropriating their host cultures. Yet in our orientations we were told to try as many new things as possible. If an exchange student does not partake in what may be viewed as appropriation, she will seem unwilling to integrate into her new home and almost seem condescending toward her new family and friends. When someone graciously provides you with traditional dress to wear to a wedding, it would be unthinkable to say. “No, I shouldn’t. That’s disrespecting your culture and I don’t want to do that.” Their feelings would be hurt, and they likely wouldn’t understand. To people trying to teach you about their way of life, a refusal is a refusal despite good intentions. Sometimes avoiding cultural appropriation can do more harm than good in the context of study abroad.

Everyday Feminism’s provocative article on the difference between cultural exchange and appropriation states the following, “[Wearing another’s traditional dress from a place of respect] is what cultural exchange can look like – engaging with a culture as a respectful and humble guest, invitation only,” (Uwajaren). This is true, and it’s also important to note that when one is overseas, seeking out opportunities to learn about culture will enrich one’s experience tenfold. If you engage with a place without learning about its culture, it’s almost like you do not care enough to find about how a country came to be that way. The idea of culture’s role in society is not one often discussed in The United States, because the culture here is as diverse as Americans themselves. But in other countries, culture is the basis of politics, familial interactions, and everyday social interactions. It is impossible to understand life in a different country without first understanding the underlying culture, and it is impossible to understand the underlying culture without first experiencing it.

What exchange students do that many tourists do not, is share their culture. Sharing culture is not a get out of jail free card when it comes to cultural appropriation but it contextualizes it in a way that makes cultural exchange mutually beneficial. Exchange students serve as ambassadors of their country and become physical representations of their home country to everyone they meet while abroad. Instead of basing their opinion of a country off of of pop culture and the media, those who interact with an exchange student have a much more authentic understanding of a foreign country.

Exchange students should not be accused of “borrowing” one’s culture without understanding its role in society because they do take the time to understand. In their homestays, they learn crucial lessons about the ideas of globalization and fragmentation. A woman who chooses to wear traditional dress as a means of modesty may be taken less seriously than a woman in a power suit because traditional dress can imply an old-fashioned mindset. These ideas are not on the surface of a culture, either. It can take months to puzzle out the intricacies of a place, and even then it’s hard to grasp the full picture. It’s a pretty fair guess that a music festival attendee wearing a bindi does not understand its spiritual significance.

But the problem with well-intentioned social justice bloggers calling people out for cultural appropriation is that you can’t tell someone’s interactions with a culture from a picture. They may have spent a year in India and wear bindis because their host family taught them about Hinduism. When I post photos of henna tattoos I do on clients, my Indian friends from Malaysia are excited to see me sharing their culture. However, to someone else it may seem like I am warping traditional Indian/ West African/ Middle Eastern art. At college, I do most of my advertising for henna tattoos on Yik Yak. It’s an app that allows students to anonymously post thoughts, ideas, events, etc. After posting one day that I would be in the dining hall from 4-6 doing tattoos, someone posted immediately after me, saying “Friendly reminder that henna is a form of cultural appropriation.” I replied to this post explaining my background with Indian cultures, and was sure to mention the fact that I try to share a little bit about my time in Malaysia with my clients so they can understand the cultural significance of henna in other parts of the world. I was not mad at the person who posted about cultural appropriation, but more so filled with a desire to teach them about how my views of culture have been shaped by my experience as an exchange student.

On that note, I’d say a pretty safe rule to follow when it comes to cultural appropriation is to think like an exchange student. Recognize that it is an issue, but recognize that without in depth experience you will not get the full picture. Don’t be quick to judge, but be quick to engage in conversation about the issue. It is only through discussion that the issue can be explored and corrected if it is true appropriation.

When exchange students are prepped to go overseas, they are bombarded with information about everything from homesickness to how to deal with food poisoning. The idea is to prep exchange students with as many tools as possible to guarantee success. Without a doubt the most important piece of advice I received, and the biggest piece of advice I pass on in my role as an orientation leader is, “Not good, not bad, just different” (AFS). Instead of being quick to jump to conclusions, people should learn to acknowledge and appreciate differences, but more importantly focus on their roots. I mentioned earlier that culture is never just black and white, and neither is appropriation. One should learn to understand a situation before they are quick to label it.

When it comes to cultural appropriation, think like an exchange student. Recognize that it is an issue, but recognize that without in depth experience you will not get the full picture. Don’t be quick to judge, but be quick to engage in conversation about the issue. It is only through discussion that the issue can be explored and corrected if it is true appropriation.

Works Cited

Baker, Katie. “A Much-Needed Primer On Cultural Appropriation.” Jezebel. Web. 25 Oct. 2015. <http://jezebel.com/5959698/a-much-needed-primer-on-cultural-appropriation>
“Northeast Ohio Area Team.” AFS Intercultural Programs. Web. 25 Oct. 2015. <http://www.afsusa.org/northeast-ohio/>
Uwajaren, Jarune. “The Difference Between Cultural Exchange And Cultural Appropriation.” Everyday Feminism. N.p., 2013. Web. 25 Oct. 2015. <http://everydayfeminism.com/2013/09/cultural-exchange-and-cultural-appropriation/>

My favorite color is the navy blue of the American passport.

One of the most beautiful sights to see is the fifty white stars flying in the wind. Fireworks on the Fourth of July never fail to stun me, and the bald eagle is without a doubt the most majestic creature ever to grace the American blue skies.

But I also love the other side of the world. I have a second home ten thousand miles away, that I miss everyday. The Malaysian flag makes me feel patriotic. I have a soft spot for Hindu festivals, and strains of Negaraku conjure up deep feelings of nostalgia.

In the ancient days of cartography, when quills and parchment assumed the role of today’s GPS devices, the world was largely unexplored. Ocean borders stretched on for full pages, the ends of the page serving as the end of the earth. Flat, vast, and largely unexplored, the ancient mapmakers would fill these empty spaces with drawings of dragons and looming beasts. The unknown was more fearful than the known, in the blank areas of the maps, people would write in “There be dragons.”

But where be dragons today? Are there even dragons anymore? Perhaps there are dragons in the deep Amazonian rainforest or the barren tundra of Siberia; the unknown still scares us as a species. But any dragons that once existed have long since been tamed, conquered, divided and labelled on a map. The world is ever changing: shrinking, condensing, becoming less about borders and more about the connections between them. Things that used to be reserved for wealthy diplomats or missionaries are becoming available for the common people. Leaving the country is as simple as a 2 hour flight or ten day cruise to sparkling beaches in once-exotic locales. Tourism rates are rising-- even in less travelled lands in Asia and Africa. But besides the tourists, who tote around their fanny packs and bulky cameras, and hang on to their language books for dear life, people are moving abroad to work or live.

And when these people go abroad, they find themselves not fitting in. Whether the differences are pronounced-- pale skin and red hair in a sea of dark ponytails and almond shaped dark eyes-- or the differences are more subtle, going abroad isolates you and can rip you of your identity. For Americans, people who call a melting pot their home, it is even more challenging.

I am an American paradox: an American born, Malaysian grown, Irish and Russian and Scottish and Hungarian descended walking contradiction. My passport says one thing, but my heart says another. It’s a problem that more and more people are facing: how do we identify ourselves? The Choose Your Own Ethnicity Boxes on standardized tests are confusing, forcing labels to be put on something that is never black or white (or Asian Pacific Islander or Native American or Hispanic). As complex as the definition of “American” is in America, it gains a whole new level of complexity when sent overseas.

The ideas that foreigners have about The United States are things that probably seem pretty funny here. It is amazing how quickly they lose their lighthearted humor when one realizes how a crazy stereotype is what someone actually believes is true. The media is often the only “reliable” source of information that people in other countries have about The US. But of course, the media only shows one side. Newspapers and magazines are quick to print startling headlines: “26 Elementary School Children Killed in Shooting,” “Military Veteran’s Funeral Picketed by Christian Hate Group,” “American Government Official Caught Sending Nude Photos.” These headlines are being consumed and swallowed by people overseas. It is easy to see how America as a country can become a monster in other people’s eyes: a violence ridden, corrupt, obese and backwards country pretending to be freer than free.

Besides the more serious beliefs about the US, there are the more absurd. People in some places of the world fully expect Americans to be obese and Caucasian, stuffing their faces with McDonald’s and pounding down Wendy’s Frosty’s every day. And at the same time, they expect everyone to look like Taylor Swift and talk like Sarah Palin. Movies, books, and TV shows have left people with an unrealistic and impossible definition of what an American is.

I was eating breakfast at a hotel in Asia one time with some American exchange students fresh off the plane from LAX. A very sweet Iranian lady came up to our table and started conversation, asking the usual questions: how long are you here for, what brings you to Malaysia, and where are you from. Beaming, we answered, The United States of America. She burst out laughing, then appeared a bit puzzled when our faces showed we didn’t see what was so funny. “You,” she said placing her hand on my African-American friends shoulder, “are from Africa!” “And you,” turning to my friend who was adopted from China but had lived in America her whole life, “are Chinese!” “And you two,” gesturing to my Mexican-American friend and my very tan Italian-American friend, “Are from South America!” Finally she turned to me and patted my head, “This girl is the only real American here!” My very white cheeks flushed as she brushed my light colored hair out of my face and walked away. I apologized profusely for the incident, although I’m not sure if it was even my fault. Here’s the thing about being an American overseas: the very things which once defined you have the potential to rip you apart.

People are not shy to ask you questions if you don’t fit their preconceived idea of what an American should be. “Why aren’t you fat, why aren’t you blonde, why doesn’t your butt look like Kim Kardashians, why don’t you sing on tables the way they do in High School Musical?” And for those, there is no good answer. Trying to explain the incredibly diverse land that we originate from is nearly impossible. When the foreign country you’re in is the size of Michigan state, how can you explain the vast nation that stretches from sea to shining sea? America is a country founded on differences. It contains deserts and glaciers, Native Americans and Mormons. It is a struggle to explain this to someone who hasn’t visited The United States, hasn’t attended a Memorial Day barbecue or seen a hundred caps thrown into the air at a high school graduation ceremony.

The idea of being an expatriate is confusing to many. Americans wonder why people would leave the states and people overseas wonder why people would go to their country. Even the word itself is scary, suggesting a complete cut off from a country that once was home. Whether it be a matter of wanderlust or work, Americans overseas are the best representation of this country that can be offered. They offer a genuine American perspective, one unmuddled by reporters or headlines, one that is as unique as the person sharing it. Every time an expat tells their story: who they are, what their family is like, a memory from school days, they are saying more about The United States than any movie ever could. Because when you arrive in that new country, step off the plane, and hand your navy blue passport to the immigration officer, you become a window into what may be considered the greatest country in the world. For people that have never interacted with an American before, you become America. And being America is one of the most difficult, but rewarding experiences in this world.

Being America is a hundred questions, from a hundred different people, every day. It’s answering questions about everything from math class to make-up, high school to hot guys. It’s laughing at the ridiculous, blushing at the awkward, and struggling to find answers to the tough ones. The questions you never thought about, questions that make you question yourself or your country, questions that you have to say “I really don’t know” to. It’s trying to put things gracefully and diplomatically, acknowledging someone’s points while still being honest and real.

Being America means dealing with the stereotypes I talked about before. It’s laughing at the thought of eating only hamburgers, laughing at the thought of everyone in your high school having a boyfriend, and laughing at your friend’s expressions when you tell them you’re laughing because these things are so farfetched. It’s imagining a New York City where you meet a celebrity when you step out to get your morning paper. It’s people expecting you to act like someone from Mean Girls, or Gossip Girl, or High School Musical. It’s realizing that in a weird way, some of the stereotypes are true, even though no school you’ve heard of lets the students sing and dance on the lunch tables.

Being America is dealing with the really difficult situations as well: situations that leave you sobbing because you don’t even know what to say or do. It’s explaining the fact that even though there are Americans who hate Muslims, or hate Christians, or hate Jews, for the most part we’re a pretty accepting nation. It’s watching your flags burn on TV, stars and stripes overtaken by flames from people that point blame at the collective rather than the individuals. It’s hard to swallow, and even harder to talk about. It’s defending your country, but it’s also acknowledging its shortcomings. Becoming America means being the voice for your country when everyone is against it.

Though there are days when you feel like everyone hates you because of your nationality, or days when you feel like you can’t even explain what being an American is like, being American is something that doesn’t leave you. The pages of your passport may fill up with visas and stamps, but the golden eagle on the front cover will serve as a reminder of where you came from. Each day that you pledged allegiance to the flag in elementary school, each time you took off your hat while singing the National anthem, each time you said Murica? That stuff doesn’t go away. The most beautiful part of exploring dragon-inhabited lands is coming home afterwards, and knowing there’s a place where you can call home. Being an American abroad is taxing, exhausting, humorous, and crazy. It’s a red, white and American passport navy blue adventure every day.