What's that smell?

Recently two dear friends from South Africa stayed at our house for a few days. Mike and Desi (colleagues, not a couple) were in town for a conference, but were living the high life at Chez LaVenture, sleeping in our kids' old rooms and trying to keep the fabulous Finn LaVenture from breaking into their rooms in the middle of the night to sleep on their heads. Finn is annoyed we switched some of the door handles to knobs, limiting his access to guests' heads. Desi has a gorgeous orange cat named Shumba back in Cape Town, so she doted on Finn. (Finn was a bit jealous when he learned about his African doppelganger. He's hates admitting he's a spoiled American housecat.) For the record, Mike tolerates Finn, but quickly claimed the bedroom with a doorknob instead of a handle.

Ooh, Ooh, That Smell

On the last day of her visit, I picked up Desi from the conference. Night was falling and we barreled down the highway toward home. We were chatting away when Desi stopped mid-sentence and asked, "What's that smell?"

Breathing through my mouth, I glanced at her to see if she were serious. To my horror, she was inhaling huge nosefuls of air, trying to discern the aroma. "It's a skunk," I replied. "Don't you have skunks in Africa?" I tried to focus on the road, though to my distress, she continued taking deep breaths through her nose, attempting to force as much of the odor into her nostrils as she could.

"No. This is the first time I've smelled one. How exciting!" I had anticipated some of her North Carolina firsts, such as grits and biscuits, but I hadn't considered I might witness her first skunk smelling. Fascinating.

Don't You Have All the Animals?

As soon as the thought went through my head, I realized the ridiculousness of it. We had seen so many animals when we were in South Africa - from elephants to lions to zebras to baboons to springbok to penguins. It seemed crazy in that moment in the car that she'd never seen (or smelled) a common skunk. Except of course, that skunks are only common in North America, where they live.

Who knew that Pepe Le Pew was deceiving us all that time with his French accent? There are no skunks in France! What a little stinker. Now that I think about it, the romantic yet odiferous cat-lover was clearly created based on stereotypes of French people. Pepe was 'canceled' in 2021, his role being cut from Space Jam 2, due to his habit of grabbing pussies without consent. Apparently we hold our cartoon skunks to higher standards than... well, you know.

Cultural Self-awareness

Hosting people from other countries always heightens my awareness of my own culture: from the amount of sugar in our ketchup to my sedentary lifestyle to the vast quantity of single-use plastics in my life. I suddenly become aware that my fridge is full of processed foods wrapped in convenient-yet-excessive packaging. I notice the 25 plastics bags which contain the three items I purchased from the grocery store. Even my clothes dryer takes on an sinister energy-gobbling demeanor.

Once the vice president of the college where I worked invited me and the international students over for dinner. One of the German students began reprimanding her for using plastic cutlery. I tried to subtly let him know that publicly shaming the VP who had invited you over for dinner was not culturally appropriate. However, I confess that at the time, I didn't know that many European countries had already banned plastics utensils. It was not something he was accustomed to seeing.

The U.S. is way behind on incorporating sustainable practices into our culture. Six years ago, an article from France's Global Citizen highlighted plastic practices in 16 countries. For example, Montreal banned plastic bags in 2018, with a fine of $1000 for violators. In Kenya, you can face up to 4 years in jail for using or producing a plastic bag!

The American insistence on consuming all we can and discarding vast quantities of plastics is due in large part to the fact that we're the world's most individualistic culture, determined to do whatever the hell we want, whenever we want, without anyone telling us what to do.

You Do You vs. the Tall Poppy Gets the Chop

In 1980, Dutch social psychologist Geert Hofstede proposed his theory of cultural dimensions based on decades of research. One of the most well-known of these dimensions is Individualism vs. Collectivism. Does a society place a higher value on the rights of individuals or on the good of the whole? (For a thorough yet accessible description of Hofstede's theory, check out this article from Think Insight.)

Cultural scales like these operate on a continuum. Neither end of the spectrum is good or bad, they're just different.

Let me repeat that: different does not equal bad. It is common knowledge that the U.S. is the most individualistic country in the world, valuing personal freedom, self-reliance, and individual achievement. In fact, it is at the root of the American Dream, the idea that anyone can achieve great success if they work hard enough. We love winners and delight in standing out from the crowd. We want to be exceptional and idolize people who 'make it.'

On the other hand, our individualism sometimes results in a lack of respect for people who can't achieve: the elderly, the disabled, the mentally ill, etc. This is why we allow our grandparents to die in retirement homes reeking of urine and neglect. I remember my surprise when I was in Macedonia and learned that old age homes don't exist there. Now I know this is true in many collectivist countries.

I currently work part-time at a nonprofit that creates a community of care for people experiencing homelessness. We rarely see a person from a Spanish-speaking country, though the population of the county is over 14% Hispanic. Hispanic cultures are largely collectivist, valuing family above all else and focusing on the good of the whole. One of the stereotypes about Hispanics is that they have a lot of people living together. This is partly because instead of putting abuela in a home and cousin Pedro on the street, they care for them.

On more than one occasion, I've seen brilliant Latinx students drop out of school to work at a low-paying job to support their families. For them, the good of the group matters more than the dreams of the individual. This is extremely frustrating to most of their teachers, but more understandable when viewed through the lens of culture.

In the U.S., we are told "you do you." It's okay to be different, to look different, to express yourself, to stand out. In countries like Australia, the saying "the tallest poppy gets cut down" is a warning not to think too highly of yourself or to distinguish yourself from the masses. Blending in is the goal.

I Am Because We Are

In Cape Town in 2019, my husband and I toured Langa, one of the oldest townships in South Africa. The word Langa means "sun" in Xhosa and was created in 1927 as a segregated neighborhood where Black South Africans were forced to live. A site of powerful resistance during Apartheid, Langa is a working class neighborhood, full of art, culture, and history.

Craig and I walked through the neighborhood of 62,000 residents with Nela, our personal guide. We drank from a communal bucket of umqombothi, a beer brewed by local women from maize and sorghum. We shuddered at a pile of 'smileys' - sheep heads - boiled and appearing to grin malevolently. One head will feed a family of five, with everyone vying for the eyes and tongue, the tastiest bits.

Most important, we learned about Ubuntu. This word, derived from the Zula and Xhosa languages, roughly translates to "I am because we are." In this video, Archbishop Desmond Tutu explains the concept by saying "we are human only through relationship." He then adds, "the completely self-sufficient person is sub-human." Take that, Ralph Waldo Emerson.

I know this is true for me: I am because we are. My friends around the world are a part of me; they make me who I am. As an American, I may never give up my competitive nature, my love of ice cubes and air-conditioning, or my tendency to complain if asked to walk more than a couple of blocks, but my life has been enriched beyond belief by meeting kind and gracious people with different cultural norms. I've learned to consider other ways of looking at things and am less adamant that my way is the only way. Even Finn agrees: international friends are cool, even if they've never smelled a skunk.

Desi, Mike, and Finn strengthening international relations