I've lived in Germany for three years.
I tell people that, and they begin firing typical questions at me. For the most part, the first question asked is if I speak German.
I learned enough German to say I don't speak German.
The next question, if it isn't the first question, is, "What was it like?" This varies from person to person. They ask me about castles and forts. Some ask me about the food. If they're brave, they'll ask me about WWII history museums or Nazi concentration camps.
All the questions boil down to things a tourist would ask, what a tourist would experience, what a tourist would do.
No one asks about everyday life. No one has ever approached me with questions that are framed outside the context of a few months. No one asks about buying groceries or gas. No one asks me about what it was like for me, as a child, to play outside there. No one asks about interacting with locals beyond ordering food.
No one asks about walking down the street every morning in a country that doesn't speak English. Sure, many of them know English, but for the most part, it was easier to agree not to communicate beyond formal greetings.
Living in Germany was a pleasant experience. In hindsight, it was the best three years of my life thus far.
However, I began to see changes in the local children my age after a year of living there. I normally saw them playing with one another, just like I would with my friends, but they would grow silent when I walked past them to get to my bus stop in the morning.
Then one day, they spoke to me. "Hey, come here," the fat one said in broken English. "Psst!" the others hissed. I stopped walking and looked at them. I thought about going over there. I thought about trying to communicate with them, perhaps leading to some sort of beautiful friendship where we could play games without needing words.
But then the fat one spit in my direction.
I walked away.
When I lived in Germany, I did it wrong. I spent three years in a foreign land and failed at obtaining a real cultural experience. I saw the castles and ate the food, but I did not learn the language and communicate with the locals as a guest in their homeland. I didn't take the time to get to know them and communicate with them as people, not as Germans.
We as Americans are privileged. We like to look abroad and experience the culture of foreign lands, but little time do we take to interact with the people who make up that culture.
We act as if going to a big church or some castle Hitler spent his weekends at is enough to make us cultured; thinking they have experienced all that a foreign land has to offer. It's not. Those are history lessons given out by tour guides. History is an important element that defines culture, but people misinterpret that as THE culture.
The best way to experience a culture is to share in it with the people who make up that culture. Not drinking buddies, not a tour guide, not a study abroad group. But we think it is, and we wonder why the rest of the rest of world doesn't like us when we turn their world into a vacation hotspot.
Jordan Hays is the opinion editor at The Auburn Plainsman. He can be contacted via email at jdh0036@auburn.edu
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