Dating someone from another country and culture allows us to see our own country/culture through a different lens. I began to learn this while I lived in Mongolia and was married to Zorig. That was the first time I resided outside of the U.S. (except for military assignments). Everything was new, foreign, and unusual to me. I decided I would accept the life I encountered there as “normal” and do my best to assimilate.
That relationship fell apart and I relocated to Turkey. In the process I learned two very important things: (1) do not make assumptions about cultural differences–bring them up, talk about them, try to understand the other perspective, and (2) my life in Ulaanbaatar was HARD (this is a topic for another day, perhaps)–because of the cold and pollution, because of the temperament/mentality of the Mongolian people (heavily influenced by Russia’s 70 years of occupation) and ultimately my inability to find connections to bridge the cultural differences. Though as mentioned in my first point–communication is key.
I want to talk today about navigating cultural differences in relationship. I have been in love with a Turkish man for the last 10 months. One of my favorite things about Fatih and I’s relationship is that conversation is our shared favorite pastime–we can literally talk for hours and they pass like minutes. That and sharing/listening to music together. From the moment we crossed over from friendship into a romantic relationship, we have worked hard to bridge the gaps between our languages and cultures. We listen with a strong desire to understand and when we do not understand, we say so and try again with a new approach. Despite this shared commitment there are still challenges and struggles along the way. Today I will share a specific anecdote to illustrate one such cultural difference.
In early March Fatih and I were out with another couple, Julia and Erik, to have one last beer together and wish them well with their move to Akbük. We shared beers and conversation at a pub until after 1 AM. As we walked home we encountered a boy (perhaps 13 years old) who was wearing only Crocs, shorts, and a t-shirt. It was COLD as it was wintertime. We all had on long pants and coats. I mentioned to Fatih that the boy must be cold.
Fatih initiated a conversation with the boy, and Julia joined in as they were the Turkish speakers. Erik and I stood by and tried to understand. To summarize, the boy had fled his home because his family was under the influence of alcohol and drugs and he did not feel safe. He was waiting for a friend but had no phone and said it would be an hour or two. Fatih took off his coat (a strong, heavy-duty motorbiking jacket–relatively new I might add) and put it on the boy. Julia gave the boy her socks. Fatih gave him some small money and spoke with a policemen who was stationed in a nearby facility. The boy would wait with the police until his friend arrived. We continued on our way. Once home, Fatih and I shared a beer and then I loaned him one of my coats–a lightweight but warm, down jacket– forever now known as “the blue coat”–and he continued on to his apartment.
In the course of the night’s events, as well as the following days, I reflected on the fact that I would not have taken the coat off of my back and given it to the boy. I would have offered to bring him to my home to be warm, or to use my phone, or I would have given him money. But I would not have given him my coat. Not because it was valuable; it was cold outside and I was using it.
When I related the story to friends afterwards I can say I was ashamed to acknowledge this fault in my character–that for some reason I was not willing to sacrifice my own comfort for that of a (hopefully temporarily homeless) child. To be honest it brought tears to my eyes recognizing the good and strong character of my boyfriend, and the less than desirable exhibition of my own character in the moment. I have spent a lot of time reflecting on this event and have yet to find myself feeling good about what I did and did not do. Perhaps this is because I have not had biological children of my own? I don’t know. 🤷🏻♀️
Days passed, perhaps a couple of weeks. I kept asking Fatih for my blue coat. He kept forgetting it. On one such night (and after many drinks!) he went home and sent me pictures of the coat and of a small bluetooth speaker which I had gifted him not long before. He wrote in a message that he would return ALL things which I had given him, including the phone he was using to take the pictures, but which he was not able to take a picture of. I messaged back to say we were having a misunderstanding, and to go to sleep.
We messaged the next morning–but agreed we would speak in person which is always our best medium because body language can be incorporated into the understanding. We speak in English when we are face-to-face; we message in Turkish mostly. When we first started dating we used Google Translate A LOT to help communicate our thoughts and stories and feelings. But over these 10 months we have used it decreasingly. On occasion we have to look up a word here and there, but we overwhelmingly do not use it nowadays.
I want to state that this blue coat is NOT expensive or valuable. It has an ink stain on one of the sleeves and is perhaps even a little too large for me. But it is the only coat of its type/style in my wardrobe. I choose to wear it on windy days or when my school attire is thick or flowy and I need a larger over-garment.
I was like a dog with a bone and kept pushing to get my blue coat back. I believe that Americans seem to have a particularly strong relationship with our possessions. While my concern was not over the value of the coat, only the fact that it belonged to me and I wanted it back. Even months later I still feel the same way about all of this, despite not being proud of those feelings. This is an interesting contradiction to sit with.
I shared this story (the resolution is coming) with my friend Harika (pictured above). She is Turkish but was raised in Germany and then lived in the U.S. for about 30 years. When I shared my reactions and thoughts about the incident with the boy, and my obsession with getting the blue coat back, she admitted that she would have acted the same as I had, and felt similarly about the coat. She agreed that it felt like an American thing–this strong need to maintain our possessions, and she was the person who encouraged me to share the story here.
I would be interested in any thoughts or opinions you have about how you would have acted on the night of the encounter with the boy, as well as if you would have wanted your coat back or simply donated it to the universe (as Fatih did his jacket to the boy). Granted, he and I are in relationship and not strangers as the boy was to us. But please comment below if you have anything to ask or share.
When Fatih and I met up face-to-face the night after he had threatened to give me everything back (and I guess perhaps break up with me), he came into the pub and declared, “Heather, you and I come from different cultures.” He apologized for his dramatic over-reaction; I apologized for my doggedness. And then we talked about all of it–not to any resolution, per se, but to the acknowledgement of the fact that sometimes we will behave differently and we will sometimes value things differently. The important thing is to talk about everything transparently, and do your best to understand the other person’s point of view. He did return the coat to me and it will be ready when the weather turns cold this fall.
Interestingly, as I searched through the 5K+ pictures on my phone to find a few for this post, I have no single picture of myself wearing “the blue coat.” Only Fatih.
Heather, this is an interesting story that reminds me of another one. When my sons were small, we were with a group of friends getting together for a meal and all the children were running around playing and having a great time. The friend who was hosting us had a little girl who was carrying around her favorite doll. Not just any doll but her mother told us it was her favorite of all! Now we come to the part that another little girl wanted to play with this doll. Mind you, there were other dolls available but my friends… Read more »
Hello Susan, Thank you for taking the time to reply and share a story of your own. I can say I agree with your third paragraph above. And it’s true that when I lend someone a book, I accept the fact that I may never see it again. Thank you for pointing out that I hadn’t clarified in my post about getting the coat back (I just updated the post). I did! It is in my closet. And I wouldn’t say that Fatih shamed me in any way, but our different behaviors and reactions have allowed us both to grow… Read more »
We are so autonomous. But that brings other notions such as if you don’t take care of yourself nobody else will. This is the mantra. And sometimes nobody else does. Other times they do – this happens less often.
I hear you, Erika. I often think of the instructions when we board a plane. In the event of a crash we must first put on our own oxygen mask before helping those around us. Nice to have you weigh in.
As librarians I would argue that we know how to handle lost books or books that are forgotten. When I first became a librarian I had to learn that books were consumable and that it’s better for a book to be kept than never checked out! My inventory is never perfect. I rarely loan personal belongings and am definitely connected to my possessions. I began buying my own clothing and paid for my own dance lessons in middle school. It taught me to take pride in hard work and to value the quality and cost of things. It also taught… Read more »
Hello Dear Cousin,
What an interesting perspective! If you can’t remember to return something of mine, perhaps I am not on your mind at all??? Hmm. That is an insightful observation that I will spend some time reflecting upon. Could be.
Yes–as librarians it is part of our business to accept that some books go out into the universe never to return to our shelves. But, hopefully they are being read and loved wherever they find themselves.
This sure stirs up the muck at the bottom of my own pond. I’ll be messaging you about this when I have access to a computer instead of my phone keyboard.
Hello dear Friend! I would love to hear your thoughts and talk about this with you. Yes, definitely prefer a full keyboard!! Miss you.