Initiative#26: Bus conversations and question marks

I perceive buses as solitary places, not places for conversation or making friends.

I’m also rather terrified of the oddities that board on; I’ve seen some nasty, nasty characters who scream at other passengers, leer and make sexually inappropriate comments, or attempt to pick a fight.

Clearly I’ve taken too many buses.

But when I saw a fairly nice looking chap carrying this book

I was so excited to see someone reading Indonesian, a language very close to home for me that I actually blurted out ” Can I have that book please?” Smooth Steph..smooth. Haltingly, he looked at me and I made a split second decision to say..hi. (Smile and repeat, that’s the trick)

We ended up having a wonderful conversation about Bahasa Indonesia and he spoke so fluently! He’s just learning it for fun but somehow, his hunger for the language and culture far surpassed my native advantage. I stuttered and stumbled clumsily around the language of my youth so badly that I just stopped trying at one point and moved the conversation to Indonesian pop music instead.

He also plays the Gamelan, a traditional Malayan/Javanese musical instrument. Once again, the conversation about the music of my youth made me red faced..because I’ve never actually touched or attempted to learn it before.

Honestly, he put me in deep deep shame. This initiative of mine turned out to be such a humbling and defining moment for me.

This American, so foreign to my culture and language, knew more about the going-ons in my neighbouring country than I did. He was far more enthusiatic about the local Malaysian/Indonesian music scene and could easily rattle off her and their latest songs, albums, band drama, etc. He read Indonesian literature for fun and taught himself how to pronounce and sing in Indonesian too.

He knew more about my culture (and my people) indirectly than I did.

WOW. Let me just repeat that…WOW.

I felt like such an Anglophile that I retreated to my Iphone and started hunting for Malaysian music on Youtube. To be honest, I got rather nostalgic at one point. Anything remotely Malaysian/Indonesian turns me inward and forces me to grasp for air.

This incident also reminded me of a train commute conversation I had back home ( my first actually!)

I remember sitting down with a book, trying to internalize the idiosyncrasies of American life – song, dance, culture and all and struggling so hard when an American lady (presumely) sat down next to me and proceeded to ignite a conversation. I remember shooting bullet like questions at her about the American lifestyle, noting her accent, and deep down, craving to BE her.

I have felt it many, many times before; this impulsive longing to learn about another culture, to be part of it, to breathe, eat, and live with it.

To me, culture is this ever-changing entity that is entirely man made. It is inherited, adopted, adapted, and in some cases, replaced.

My question is : Where do the boundaries lie between adapting a culture into one’s own inherited culture and totally replacing it?  How do we protect our cultural identity when we start practicing the lifestyle of a different culture…if you think it should be protected at all?

Maybe bus conversations aren’t that bad after all.