Culture Shock and How to Blend In

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Culture Shock: it happens. People tell you how to adapt and ways to cope, but seriously, I still feel like screaming every time people start honking because the car in front of them didn’t start to go five seconds before the light turned green. It doesn’t help, and I want to kick their cars. Plus they all try to hit you. Navigating this city is like a giant live-action version of Frogger where the cars speed up at random intervals. But I’d rather focus this blog on how to avoid detection and blend in with the general populus.

A lot of my guy friends are immediately recognized as Americans from far away and can’t fool anyone. Apparently I look Russian though, because people keep asking me for directions. Then again, I have figured out the ways of the Russian woman. Number one: lots of eye makeup. You get to use the crazy eyeshadow colors that you would throw away in the U.S., and never forget lots of eyeliner. Secondly, the entire street is a cat walk. You must get on your angry face and strut your stuff like you’re being paid. Seriously, I think the way I blend in best is by trying to look angry and aloof. It’s my Russia face. However, the dead giveaway that always screams American is the fact that I wear sneakers or boots, and not tiny little spiked heels that only allow me to take tiny baby steps. This is a big flashing red sign that says “foreign.” Even when they buy boots here, they still have a spiked heel. And in a city where you have to walk almost everywhere, I really don’t understand how they do it.

The other thing that has been perplexing my friends and I lately is why are there no middle-aged, in-between women. The women are either young, gorgeous, gazelle-like creatures clicking about in their little heels, or short, squatty babushkas in ugly brown shoes with head scarves. There is no middle. I’ve asked a few women about this, and they say it’s because they live such hard lives. Perhaps with capitalism this trend will stop. They hope so, and so do I for their sake. However, I have another theory as to how babushkas are made; they come from mashrutkas. A Mashrutka is a form of public transportation that is little more than a glorified van that takes the same routes at the buses. It costs the same, and if you aren’t one of the first 10 people on the van, you have to stand. However, since it is in fact just a van, you have to stoop, and stay that way all the way across the city. I have never had such a terrible lower back ache as when I rode the Mashrutka. And that my friend, is how the short, fat, bent-over babushkas are made. They have been on too many Mashrutkas. And that is why I take the bus or walk.

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Comments

[Caitlin]

So...what color eyeshadows are we talking? And I didn't know your angry and aloof face looked Russian. I think you got that face from me anyway...I know that look. :o)

[Andrew]

Don't give in to the spiked heels Meagan!! Wear your western sneakers with pride!!

[Kelly]

Count me in
Oh! Count me in on the spiked boots! I'll wear those here in the States!