Bennett’s Model of Intercultural Sensitivity

As I read Bennett’s developmental model of intercultural sensitivity, it really sunk in how hard it is to reach the final stage of integration and that after years of straddling two cultures, I have unfortunately not yet achieved this state for myself. I feel as though in many ways, I have obtained an ethnorelative view and approach through my many experiences, being able to understand and evaluate situations based on both American and Japanese culture. I have lived in both worlds for substantial parts of my life and the distinct cultures and mindsets of both have naturally been imbedded in my mind and my body. I have mastered the art of being “American” or being “Japanese” depending on the circumstances and what I am expected to be at that moment. In this

manner, I have been raised to become a “multicultural” individual. However, I still struggle to reach “total integration of ethnorelativism”–I have not yet fully understood or accepted this integration of cultures and way of thinking as part of my identity, part of the way I am. I understand that I am a product of two cultures–that neither American nor Japanese culture alone will identify myself. I understand that my identity is constructed on a deeply interdependent fuse of both cultures, not allowing myself to be just “American” or just “Japanese” anymore. What I can’t seem to understand is how to simply accept that that is just who I am. I need to stop thinking in terms of “Am I more American or Japanese?” and start realizing that there is really no answer to that question. I am neither, so comparing myself to them is useless and just confusing. This inability of mine to accept this about myself and my identity hinders my capability to reach complete ethnorelativism. I never realized how difficult it is to reach this state, as for the past several years I have been trying to come to terms with who I am and my identity, but find myself back to the initial confused, restless state. I hope that one day I will reach the end of this spectrum Bennett talks about, for it is not only a state of being able to appreciate the differences this world offers us, but is also a state of absolute, real understanding of your self.

Third Culture Kids

I feel like a foreigner where ever I go. I feel like I don’t really belong anywhere. When I say I’m going “home”, people always ask me, “home-Japan or home-Boston”? Sometimes I refer to Boston as “home”. Sometimes I refer to Japan as “home”. I feel lost. I feel torn between two worlds. Last week in ICU class, I learned that there is actually a name for people like myself–Third Culture Kids (TCK).

I was born in Los Angels but moved back to Tokyo when I was about 1.5 years old. Both my parents are Japanese and have spent most of their lives in Japan. I attended an international school in Tokyo from preschool to Grade 9. For high school, I attended a boarding school in Connecticut where I spent three years away from home besides a few months each year for winter and summer break. Currently, I am a junior at Boston College and still only go home twice a year. I have been living away from my home and in the U.S for 6 years now–who knows how much longer I will stay there for.

I have always felt torn between the two worlds that I live in with such distinct cultures–America and Japan. Since I have been in Thailand, I have been thinking about it more so than ever. It may be because I seem to have to identify myself more here, as people constantly as me where I am from and do not understand why my English is fluent when I say I am from Japan. These feelings of confusion and isolation have been intensifying as I have been spending more  and more time in the U.S and not in Japan. When people ask me what nationality I am, I find myself answering, “I’m Japanese” and then thinking to myself, “well, kind of”.

Whenever  I go back to Tokyo, where I consider my “home”, people treat me as a foreigner. It’s the saddest feeling when I walk into a coffee shop and as I try to order, they try to speak to me in broken English. Sometimes I play along, acting like I’m a foreigner who doesn’t speak Japanese because I don’t want to face the humiliation while other times I just answer in Japanese and deal with the “oh, I didn’t think you were Japanese!” comment. Of course, I am treated as a foreigner in the U.S as well. Ultimately, I feel like a foreigner every where I go, with no single place or culture that really represents who I am inside.

The hardest part of straddling two cultures the way I have is seeing myself change into a person my parents can’t understand and relate to. In my case, because my parents stayed in Japan rather than come to the U.S with me, I experienced and felt things on my own. I changed while my parents stayed the same. The more “American” I become, the more I become distant from my own parents. They can’t understand the way I think anymore. They can’t form the same connection with me anymore because of the cultural barrier I have established by being immersed in another culture for so long. They don’t see the internal struggle I am facing–not knowing which direction to go from here or how to embrace all this change to form an identity.

Nan Trip

Our trip to the Pa Klang village in Nan Province was absolutely amazing. The family I stayed with was extremely welcoming and put in every effort to make me feel at home and try to communicate with me. Although there was a language barrier between us, trying to overcome the barrier ultimately brought us closer, forming a stronger bond. I did notice however that in general, the people in Pa Klang seemed to be initially more reluctant to form a relationship with us strangers. Many seemed hesitant at first to get to know us, but eventually opened up and allowed us in their lives. This may be because of their history of being shunned from society and being mistreated by those outside of the Hmong community. 

One aspect of village life I noticed was the nature of the children. Compared to kids elsewhere, especially in developed countries where materialism haunts over children on a daily basis, the children in Pa Klang lived so simply and happily without any external distractions. They happily help their parents cook food, clean the house, or go grocery shopping. It seemed like they did not see these acts as chores or duties forced upon them but simply a way to respect their parents. The closeness of the family was so beautiful and something hard to find in the detached, disconnected world we live in today.

It was great being able to be completely immersed in a Hmong community, as I learned and now understand on a deeper level the history and current situation of Hmong people. The situation with Hmong people and ethnic minorities in Thailand in general feels like a more personal matter to me now and I have definitely grown more interest and passion for the issue. After getting to know people who are directly affected by this issue, the situation became more real to me—that this is actually happening in present time and people are struggling as a result from it. Through spending time with my family and interacting with the people in the community, I learned how distinct Hmong culture is and how tragic it is that such culture is slowly vanishing. I believe because this was a Hmong community, not individual Hmong families living in a dominantly Thai community, people there had more pride in their identity and didn’t fear to display who they are. Many of the people in the village wore traditional Hmong clothing and accessories, something that is quite rare for Hmong people outside of the village. 

Weekend in Chiang Rai

This weekend a few of us went up to Mae Sai, the border town between Thailand and Burma, which is located in the province of Chiang Rai. The moment we got off the van, the town had a very peculiar feeling. We were there solely for the purpose of extending our visas and I am glad I didn’t have any other expectations of that place other than that. To me, as a foreigner, nothing seemed different on the other side of the border. However, the situation in Burma is so much more corrupt and suppressive and that in actuality, the difference between being in Burma and being in Thailand is so substantial. It also made me feel uneasy that we could cross the border so easily when many people in Burma dedicate their whole lives to escape the country. It is also an odd feeling, knowing that what I saw in “Burma” depict very little of the actual situation there and the suffering people face. Just the fact that foreigners are not allowed to stay in the country for an extended period of time and are followed by authorities when leaving the border town says much about the government and the absolute power they possess. Bombarded with all these odd and uncomfortable feelings, we only stayed on the other side of the border for about 15 minutes until we quickly decided we wanted to leave. As we were about to enter the customs office, a boy who looked like he was about 6 came up to me and started begging for money. I know that you never know whose hands the money you give them actually end up in, but when I look into the eyes of these kids, I just can’t not. These kids have eyes overflowing with sadness and despair and every time I look into their eyes, it reminds me of how unfair the world is and how much suffering there is. I should be getting used to kids coming up to me for money, but some how it is something I just can’t get used to and breaks my heart every time it does.

Ban Sanook

On Saturday a bunch of us went to Eva’s placement, Ban Sanook, to attend their spring concert. Baan Sanook is an organization run by Japanese volunteers and is a center for persons with physical and/or mental disabilities. There were also kids visiting from Ban Rom Sai, an orphanage for children with HIV/AIDS. Some of the Ban Rom Sai kids were so young that it made my heart sink to think that they were HIV/AIDS positive. They were born into the world like that, and there was nothing for them to do that would have changed that fact. Seeing those kids not only reassured me of the importance of education but also shed light to the lack of education here in Thailand. As with anywhere else in the world, those who cannot afford to receive education are those who would benefit from it most. Being here, it has really sunk in how much I have taken for granted the privileged environment I was born into and how much it would be a disgrace to the world if I wasted the education I receive.

On a brighter note, the concert was wonderful—it was so uplifting and I remember smiling with genuine joy the entire time. All the volunteers there, including Eva, really care about the people they work with, and are so happy to be there and spend time with them. The people at Ban Sanook are great individuals, always with a smile on their faces, and it seems like they have the ability to spread happiness to those around them. It is so sad that persons with disabilities are stigmatized in Thai society because in reality, they are harmless and in many cases, have the most loving hearts ever. I remember at one of the support centers I worked for in Vietnam, they would tie people with mental disabilities to cages and would make them live in horrid, unsanitary conditions. They treated them like animals and the environment they were in didn’t let any of the positive qualities flourish and in fact, completely hindered any potential any of them had. Coming from that, it was relieving to see that the volunteers at Ban Sanook take very good care of the people and their help comes from genuine care for them. The overall feel of the place was very warm and loving and I can just imagine them laughing and having fun every day they are there.

Language Lunch Exchange

The Language Lunch Exchange was a little bit more awkward and less exciting than I had hoped it was going to be. I sat with 6 Thai students and for most of the time, they kept talking to each other in Thai. They were joking around and it seemed like they were having fun amongst themselves. I tried asking them some questions but it seemed like they were more interested in talking to each other than talking to me in English, which is understandable because it is so much more comfortable talking to your friends in your native language than talking to a stranger in a foreign language. It also felt more like I was being interviewed by them rather than having a conversation with them, mainly because of the uneven ratio of Thai students to Thai Studies students. I did however enjoy meeting them for I rarely meet Thai students who do not live in PIH. The conversation heated up at little when we started talking about “fans”. It seems like Thai people are really intrigued in whether someone has a fan or not but at the same time are really embarrassed or hesitant to talk about it. I found this true about a close Thai friend I have. He does not like talking about boyfriends or girlfriends, for to him it is an extremely private and sensitive topic. I hope I can hang out with the people I met at the lunch again and get to know them better.

Bangkok Trip

After a 13 hour-painfully-long train ride, we finally got back from Bangkok this morning. The experience which left the strongest impact on me was our visit to the Duang Prateep Foundation and the slum areas of Klong Toey. I mentally prepared myself before going to Klong Toey, but my heart was still shattered when I saw the living conditions of the people there. I really hated that we took a “tour” of the slums. We just walked through these people’s homes, people were taking pictures all throughout the “tour” and it seemed like we were there just to observe how poor these people are, without any good or helpful intentions. I felt like in their eyes, we were just a group of wealthy foreigners coming from a completely different world than theirs, looking at them with sympathy and pity. I tried to wai to every person I saw and greet them with a smile, for I wanted the people to know that they deserve the same amount of respect as any body else. 

The world we live in just makes no sense to me. I could have easily been born into one of the families that live in Klong Toey. Instead, I was born into a wealthy family with no pressing health or financial problems. Why me? Why do I get the perfect life when so many people around the world don’t? When I think about the world we live in today, I feel so powerless and small compared to the magnitude of the suffering and problems. The sad reality is that there is so little one person can do for the world, and no matter what, there will always be inequality and people facing suffering. However, that does not justify giving up and losing hope, letting people who need the most help struggle alone. I have to keep reminding myself that change can be made in a smaller scale and that I can’t take for granted some of the resources I can provide that others don’t have, but need so desperately. 

The highlight of that day was definitely visiting the kindergarten in Klong Toey and playing with the kids there. I love young kids because they have so much positive energy even in the hardest situations, are not corrupted by society, and when you look into their eyes, they are always filled with hope. Sometimes, I wish I was a kid again when you see the world around you as a place with hope and no corruption. As much as my vision has been tainted by the realities of the world, kids always have the ability to remind me that there is still hope in this world, and that life can be seen in a positive light.

Valentines Day

On Saturday, we went to a nearby orphan house to do activities with the children for Valentines Day. The kids there seemed well-fed and well-educated, and the facility looked really clean, something which can be pretty rare for orphanages. Going to an orphanage for Valentines Day really put some things in perspective for me. I am always complaining about not having a boyfriend or about feeling lonely being single. When I look at it in a bigger scheme of things however, I know what true, unconditional love means, and that is something special that I have to remember not to take for granted. The part of the heart that needs that kind of love is fulfilled by the love that my parents give me. But here I am, complaining that I don’t have a date for Valentines Day, complaining that I am alone while these kids can’t even be with their own parents because they couldn’t afford to raise them, or they just don’t have any. On a day when you are supposed to show your love to the people you care most about, these children are incapable of doing so because they are no longer with their parents. Instead, ironically they spent most of this “special” day with a bunch of strangers who they have never met and most likely will never cross roads with again. Yet, the children had the most genuine, warm smiles when we got there, which was so beautiful but also so heartbreaking at the same time. 

Something that bothered me a lot when I was there was the excessive number of toys and gifts we were giving the children. It was great seeing the smiles on the kids’ faces when they received the gifts but it almost felt like we were giving them love merely through the materialistic objects and not from our hearts. I wanted them to remember us as the group of people who came to spend time with them, to talk to them, to have fun together with them, not the group of people who just brought a bunch of gifts. 

The orphan house was affiliated with Christianity and seeing the kids have so much faith in God and in Jesus made me question Christianity and religion in general even more. The kids believe in God from the bottom of their hearts, but yet I feel like there is no tangible change in their lives. What I can’t understand about religion is that people have so much faith in something external–that believing in that higher being will change something in their lives. If God has such powers, then why then are these children still separated from their parents and are living life without the necessary component of love?

Observation Exercise- Mae Chaem

The first aspect of Mae Chaem I noticed was the warm and welcoming environment of the village. The host families seemed genuinely happy to have guests, and treated us like a part of their family. As I sat on the front porch the first day and watched the everyday lives of the people at Mae Chaem, I saw the strong sense of trust within the community. Everyone would keep their front doors open and people would walk in and out of other people’s houses. Families would take care of each other’s children, cook meals for each other, and care about one another whole-heartedly. The entire village felt like one big family and it was such a beautiful experience to be a part of. This kind of community is something one could never find in a city like Tokyo, where people only care about themselves and no one can trust any body. This strong sense of family and community is very central to Thai culture and embodies their values accurately.

As I listened closely to the villagers talking to each other, I noticed that their speech was very slow and soft. Their speech seemed to be consistent with the general feeling of the village. Time goes by so slowly in Mae Chaem, for there is no set schedule and people just let time go by and live a slow-paced life. Growing up in Tokyo, I have always been used to fast-paced, never-sleeping city life. People are always rushing to go somewhere, run an errand, or are busy making plans. However, the lives of the people in Mae Chaem seemed almost opposite to this, and their speech illustrated the slow-moving life in the village. The softness of their voices reflected on the warm and loving community of Mae Chaem. The whole village was welcoming and it felt like they were happy to extend their love, and their family to us.

Another aspect of life in Mae Chaem that reflects on the importance of community and family is food. Many mothers cook meals together and invite each other’s families over for dinner. Some mothers would cook an elaborate dish just so they can invite their friends over. One night, while eating dinner, a man who I had never seen before just walked into the kitchen of our host house, and served himself dinner. At first, I was alerted for I did not know who this person was. However, my host mother and father just welcomed him and did not act like it was unusual. Food was a crucial part of the life in the village, for they saw food as something that brought together people and strengthened the relations between the people.

3 expectations and 2 goals

Before coming to Thailand, I was overwhelmed with excitement, fears, anxieties, and many expectations. One expectation is to form a connection with the children I work with and have a better understanding of their lives and the problems they face. Although there will be a language and cultural barrier, children open up their hearts so easily and freely that they genuinely accept you into their lives. Through getting to know the children and work for the organizations that support them, I hope to get a glimpse of the issues they are faced with every day. Another expectation I have is to learn the Thai language and be able to communicate my thoughts and feelings in Thai. I believe learning the language is a crucial part in understanding the people and culture of that place. The local Thai people are also the people who know their culture the most, and hearing experiences from them will add another dimension to my understanding and appreciation of the culture. My third expectation is to learn a little bit more about myself. Being placed in a completely  different world from what I am used to living in, I hope that I will get a better understanding of myself, and my passions. Adapting to a new place and coping with change, I also hope to find what factors and values I have that do not change, and ultimately make me the person that I am. 

One goal of mine is to stay as open-minded as a I can and absorb everything around me. I am sure to come across many things I am not used to, but I want to keep a positive mentality and approach. Another goal is to make many Thai friends. I want to be able to improve my Thai, learn their culture, and also spread my experiences and the cultures that I am familiar with.