I am a member of an NPO Tsunami relief team operating in the southern districts of Sri Lanka. As mentioned in my previous entry, I have been a Sri Lankan resident for two months; I will continue to be such for 10 more months. My chief responsibility is the coordination/management of a mobile health clinic. In addition, I support several community construction and capacity development projects.
I live with five American expats, all of whom have a strong affiliation with the American south. As the lone northerner (I am still celebrating the recent clinching victory of the New York Mets), it almost feels like a secondary cultural exchange as we all have to acclimate to the speech patterns, points-of-view (political and otherwise), and, generally, the ways of living of our housemates. As an illustration of the adjustment: we were listening to a playlist on someone's iPod. I recognized the song as one from "Walk the Line". Stunned that I had been able to even remotely place the song (all of which were obscure country ballads), I said "This is the guy from 'Walk the Line', isn't it?" (At that precise moment, the name, Johnny Cash, eluded me, so I resorted to the cultural reference with which I was familiar.) Well, my roommates did not quite register the comment as it was intended - as my meager attempt to share in their enjoyment of a cultural icon of southern music. One of my housemates comes from Kentucky, a state fervently devoted to the celebration of Johnny Cash, and weighs 100+ pounds more than me. As my brain creakily processed the error (glaring is a powerful form of communication), I was relieved to see that the mood was shifting from one of righteous anger to laughter. Things could have taken a sharp turn for the worse. In hindsight, everyone took it far better than they might have otherwise. During our weeks together, my housemates have noticed the pronounced silence emanating from my corner of the room when all things southern are being discussed. Thus, my grievous error was easily forgiven. However, I will not soon forget the name Johnny Cash.
I live with five American expats, all of whom have a strong affiliation with the American south. As the lone northerner (I am still celebrating the recent clinching victory of the New York Mets), it almost feels like a secondary cultural exchange as we all have to acclimate to the speech patterns, points-of-view (political and otherwise), and, generally, the ways of living of our housemates. As an illustration of the adjustment: we were listening to a playlist on someone's iPod. I recognized the song as one from "Walk the Line". Stunned that I had been able to even remotely place the song (all of which were obscure country ballads), I said "This is the guy from 'Walk the Line', isn't it?" (At that precise moment, the name, Johnny Cash, eluded me, so I resorted to the cultural reference with which I was familiar.) Well, my roommates did not quite register the comment as it was intended - as my meager attempt to share in their enjoyment of a cultural icon of southern music. One of my housemates comes from Kentucky, a state fervently devoted to the celebration of Johnny Cash, and weighs 100+ pounds more than me. As my brain creakily processed the error (glaring is a powerful form of communication), I was relieved to see that the mood was shifting from one of righteous anger to laughter. Things could have taken a sharp turn for the worse. In hindsight, everyone took it far better than they might have otherwise. During our weeks together, my housemates have noticed the pronounced silence emanating from my corner of the room when all things southern are being discussed. Thus, my grievous error was easily forgiven. However, I will not soon forget the name Johnny Cash.
posted by Tucker R. at 2:50 AM
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