Whether it’s a semester abroad, a summer language program, an overseas internship or a vacation with friends, more and more college students are heading to far-off places to experience new cultures. Going abroad is supposed to expand your worldviews, make you more independent, and alter your life forever.
So how do we make the most of these experiences? How do we make sure we’re getting the real deal, and not the commercialized touristy trips that Americans are famous for buying in on? To get more than good pictures but unforgettable experiences that change the way we think and live? Here are my thoughts as I ponder my most recent adventure: three weeks in Central Europe.
Before the trip, one of my goals was to immerse myself in the Central European culture. I figured I would do that by visiting museums, attending concerts, tasting the cuisine, walking down aisles and aisles of art galleries and the like. Instead, I found myself reevaluating the definition of culture, or the way I perceive it.
Culture does not lie in glass exhibits or history books; it lives in actual people. It is the collective influence of a people’s history and tradition on their beliefs and lifestyles. I quickly discovered the only way to access Hungarian or Serbian culture was to interact with real Hungarians and Serbians, and not only that, but to engage with Hungarians and Serbians from all different sectors of society, from different socio-economic statuses, education levels, ages, minorities, political views, etc.
I was lucky enough to be part of a seminar that arranged a diverse set of home stays and cultural meetings. We stayed with families and students in a farm, a minority village, big cities and a monastery. We were able to see the gamut of different living situations, to use multiple perspectives to discover the depth and complexity of Central European culture. But it was still only a small glimpse.
And what is the point of learning about culture in this way? Why do we care about how Serbians think or how Hungarians view their society? It allows us to communicate with others in a way that addresses their cultural sensitivities. It gives us access to a different way of thinking, and it reminds us of the common bond and the intertwined fates that tie us all together, despite those differences.
In Hungary, the issue that I keep revisiting in my thoughts is the discrimination against the Roma population. Growing up in the United States, in a safe, tolerant, multicultural environment, it was devastating to witness the poverty and the prejudice that the Roma endure every day. And it was even more difficult to learn about the psychological and emotional effects of this racism on the Roma people. Not only are the Roma denied social acceptance, equal access to education and equal social opportunities, they are oftentimes stripped of their self-worth, their pride and their voice.
Though this discrimination is indefensible, if we hope to change those conditions, we have to understand where Hungarians are coming from: 92.3 percent of the population in Hungary is ethnic Hungarian. Throughout history, Hungarians have always struggled to assert and maintain their sovereignty. Nationalism is strong and important. Outsiders have stolen their land and humiliated their country. And right now, everybody is looking for somebody to blame.
It’s classic in-group, out-group psychology; people are united by a common enemy. There are historical roots to this racism; it doesn’t just spring out of nowhere. We can’t compare it to America, because Hungary is not a nation of immigrants. There is much less ethnic diversity, and the country and its people have suffered devastating losses. It takes an understanding of this part of Hungarian culture to truly appreciate the depth and the complexity of the challenges Hungary faces in securing social justice for its ethnic minorities. These are things I never would have imagined had I not connected with Hungarians and felt their fears.
In Serbia, I felt overwhelmed by the complete disillusionment of some Serbian youth toward their government and their country’s future. Both in Sombor and Belgrade, the students we spoke with were desperate to leave the country, believing Serbia had nothing to offer their future. They spoke critically of the rampant corruption and recounted horror stories of police misconduct and vicious party politics. It wasn’t just the students; even our guides and lecturers agreed that in Serbia, money and political connections are kings. So, feeling powerless against the injustice and corruption of their government, these young students have decided their only hope is to leave.
What a strange concept to Americans. We are used to unrestrained optimism about the future of our country, despite the recession. The land of opportunity is where “American dreams” come true. We are accustomed to rising suns and the feeling of invincibility, even if it is just a myth.
Of course, I had been aware that America was privileged in this way, that most other countries in the world do not enjoy the same sense of security. But I had never considered the effects that this reality could have on the mindsets of people my age. After observing the emotional and psychological effects of Serbia’s political and economic conditions on the youth, I felt desperate to help these people find hope in their future.
But in one Serbian city, we met an extraordinary group of high school students who, despite public disapproval of civic activism, were deeply passionate about community service and civic involvement. These students weren’t going to accept their fates and simply hope for a better tomorrow; they were asserting their collective voices and doing everything in their power to better their communities and their country. I was incredibly inspired by their gutsiness and their absolute faith, despite the overwhelming challenges they face. It was an uplifting reminder that the human spirit of kindness and generosity lives on even under seemingly hopeless conditions.
I spent three weeks gallivanting around Europe, absorbing every color, sound, touch and thought that I could. What did I learn? That I don’t know much. That I’ve lived my life in a very small bubble, alongside very similar people, addressing very small problems. But there’s so much more out there. I want to spend my life understanding the individuals and the groups that make up our world. I want to understand the differences in cultures and societies, and use those differences to access and ground ourselves in the similarities.
If we don’t understand the reasons behind Hungary’s racism toward the Roma, the country seems distant, backward and wrong. If we do understand the differences in history and culture between our two countries, then we see that Hungarians are humans like the rest of us. History affects them just as it affects us.
And as humans, we have to fight for the rights that every person deserves. Even if we can’t solve all the problems in the world, we need to at least be aware, consciously aware, that there are people, cultures and issues beyond those that we see everyday. That’s the difference between a tourist and a traveler.
Reach the reporter at tycai@asu.edu
