On Culture & Identity

I had an interesting conversation yesterday with the volunteer ladies of the Centre for Omani Dress that struck a chord in me and helped me express some thoughts and convictions that I haven't been able to share with anyone else on the subject of individual and national identity, adapting to the local culture, and the concept of "third culture" that so many expatriates here and elsewhere face.

Living in Muscat allows me to experience an international city; I could easily go to a local shopping centre or market and hear Arabic, English, French, German, Tagalog, Hindi, Urdu, Japanese, Italian and a handful of other languages being spoken. I attend salsa dance lessons every week with Omanis, Dutch, French, British and Indians. I'm becoming more involved with the Omani-Spanish Friendship Association, which not only influences me to learn basic Spanish (something I've always been meaning to do -- and funny that I am finally pulled into it in Oman, out of all places), but mix and mingle with native Spaniards and Latinos. In the Centre for Omani Dress, my fellow volunteers include Omanis, Americans, Brits, Scots, Danes, and Irish. How amazing that I get to experience the world and stay in one place.

In many cases, I am the only American, or one of few Americans in the group. And at first glance, I don't look American -- my facial features are strongly Filipino, or at least Southeast Asian and in many cases, I am labeled as such at first glance. But I suppose that once you hear me speak in my American accent and get to me know me in a few conversations, you will find that my identity is much more "American" than "Filipino" as the local culture defines it (there are many Filipino workers here, as elsewhere in the Gulf; and unlike me, they haven't grown up in the US and are - pardon the un-PC-ness of this - FOBS/FOPS, or "Fresh off the Boat"/"Fresh off the Plane"). I have spent the majority of my 23 years in the United States and to put it simply (because honestly, the issue of ethnic identity is anything but simple), I have grown up in the American culture, which leads many to conclude definitively that YES she is completely and fully American. Despite the fact that there are many traditions, customs and values from the Philippine culture that are ingrained in my upbringing and identity, growing up in a Filipino family in the United States is certainly distinctive from growing up in a Filipino family in the Philippines.

And thus, in yesterday's conversation, it was concluded that I am truly American. I had tried to emphasise that ever-important phrase to many of us 2nd-generation insert-ethnic-background-here-Americans that I am not just "American," and include an important part of my identity as a Filipino-DASH-American, but that concept seemed to be lost in translation and transition. In any case, we all identified with the feeling and the idea of being a foreigner in our host country. Two of the ladies (one of which is COD's director) are Western women married to Omanis and have lived in country for a number of years; it was interesting to hear their take on cultural/national identity.

What I concluded from discussions of life encounters and experiences was that no matter how much they have made efforts to "integrate" into the Omani way of life, to make accessions and concessions to in-laws, to embrace (or not) local customs and ideals, they are not fully a part of the local culture. It takes a strong woman to stand up to comments from locals whispering and staring in public about the Omani man and his Western wife or Omani in-laws not visiting her home but having her visit the in-laws' home only. It takes a strong woman to stand up to comments from fellow Westerners, friends even, who say that by marrying an Arab, you're being submissive and subservient, we thought you better than that. No matter how great the family life is, no matter how wonderful the relationship is between husband, wife and mixed-race children, no matter how friendly she is to her in-laws and extended family during gatherings and they are friendly and hospitable back, there is probably that constant light flickering in back of that woman's mind that reminds her that she is not an original member of her host-turned-home culture. And because of that she is treated differently. Sometimes it's not noticeable; sometimes it is.

And on the other hand, when they return "home" to the U.S. or Britain or wherever, they are not a part of the local culture either. Because let's face it, when one is abroad and one starts to feel homesick or when one is asked about life in one's home country, one tends to idealize life "back home." This happened to me in my short time in the UK and US during the holidays after my first 3 months here. I was more aware of my surroundings, and I knew that driving around downtown Richmond required more vigilance and locking my car doors. Little things like leaving my bag lying around in a coffee shop while I go to the bathroom got me thinking twice about my "home" culture. Little things like traffic, the pace of walking, the commercialism and capitalism (at its apex during the holiday season), seeing homeless begging on the streets. It's the little things that keep me grounded, keep me feeling a sense of place and space ... and keep me back in reality, not only back in the U.S. but everywhere.

I read a local magazine article published a few weeks ago about the concept of third culture experiences that many expatriates face abroad, especially kids growing up abroad. "Third Culture Kids" (TCK) are not fully integrated into their "home" culture or society of their parents (no.1) nor are they integrated into their host culture (no.2) and therefore create their own expatriate culture (no. 3). I thought about my friends and colleagues at W&M who must have felt the same feelings as these "TCKs" and felt myself grateful for having been raised in one place, relatively. It has grounded me, taught me a sense of home and family. I thought about my future career and potential family life; I have always wanted to travel, but after reading that article, I began to think about that impact of constant moving around, country-hopping and how that will potentially affect my future spouse and children. Would I want them to experience internationalism earlier in life or have them wait until later in life, as has happened to me?

I thought about how "Third Culturalism" pertained in my case, and it was another reminder in my perpetual state of self-awareness about my cultural identity and how it is changing day to day, hour to hour. My "home" culture is my Philippine background (no.1), integrated into the "American" culture (no.2), creating a third culture in my home, the culture of being a "something-DASH-American" (no.3). And then I am here in a circumstance that places me in a situation of a third culture adult but taken further because of my own personal circumstance (no.4). However, in addition to that, my research requires me (and I am more than willing) to integrate myself as much as possible in my host culture, to experience life on their terms, even if it is for a few days in various parts of the country. Perhaps few ex-pats experience what I have now dubbed as my own "fifth culture," since I am living not according to "traditional" ex-pat standards.

I have been told that this year will shape me ... and as it progresses and as I look to my life experiences after this Fulbright, I can't help but wonder: how many more layers of cultures will permeate my skin?