When I adopted my dog, Loi Loi, I prepared my home in order to help him acclimate to what would be his new living space. He had a brand-new bed so that he wouldn't sleep on mine, a leash so that I wouldn't have to chase after him, and chew toys so that he wouldn't tear up my furniture or wall paper. I collected him from the doggy delivery service and introduced him to my new apartment, where he promptly emptied his bowels. We had already encountered our first conflict. He needed to go to the bathroom, and I needed him not to. We were going to have to develop a new culture together.
Cultures are formed gradually. First behaviors are developed to satisfy needs and then they are negotiated between people and groups. The needs exist first, from which all else follows. This was a lesson I needed to learn when I first moved to China, and it's a lesson I suspect many expats and immigrants also learn — consciously or otherwise. Upon first introduction to an unfamiliar culture, one common first response is to perceive it as wholly foreign. Mannerisms, behaviors, choices, and values can appear illogical at best, or immoral at worst. One can be forgiven for this short-term ignorance. I am glad that I grew out of it.
The process began when local Chinese would ask me: "Why do Americans do this?" Or "Why do Americans do that?" At first, my response was to explain that things were done a certain way because these methods were clearly the most logical. Eventually I realized that I was taking "common sense" for granted.
To uncover true common sense, we must look beyond behaviors — toward universal basic needs, such as food and community. A dinner with friends fulfills both of those needs, and so it wasn't hard at all to grow fond of the shared eating style in Chinese culture. Because it is a group activity, a negotiation has evolved into table manners, such as eating order (to show respect), utensil regulations (to maintain hygiene), and a grab-and-rotate process with the lazy Susan (because everyone needs to eat). Shared needs beget complex differences, but we ought to recognize the universality of them first and foremost.
Recognizing that needs are universal, and that cultures are circumstantial, has been liberating. I now understand that no culture is a default setting; that everyone's reality exists simultaneously. Understanding Chinese culture has enabled me to observe my native culture as an outsider. I can see the differences borne from similarities. I can use this vision to better understand conflicts, to see the shortcomings of my own culture and to sympathize with the goals of another.
Loi Loi is no longer an intruder in my home. We share the same space and have the same needs. I've learned his patterns and, I believe, he has learned mine. Our schedules and habits have adapted in such a way, that rarely is there a miscommunication, even if I sometimes drag my feet to take him for a walk. Cross-cultural relationships can function the same way. We only need to agree not to poop on each other's carpets.
Contact the writer at haydn@chinadaily.com.cn