Culture is relative to each individual’s experience. Although each culture has its’ similarities, our personalities and attitudes are largely shaped by our personal cultural and social interactions. This is why traveling to a new place can give us a so called “culture shock,” or even make us question our own values. Luckily, I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to grow up with two distinct cultures and ways of thinking in my life. This blending of cultures has allowed me to have a variety of different perspectives on life situations. However, things were not always this way in my life. I had been predominantly raised in one society with only faint remnants of the other in my household. Regardless of the fact that I am an immigrant myself,
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At the age of sixteen, I took a major step forward in my life. For the first time, I would visit Bethlehem as a more mature human and without my parents. Over winter break of my junior year in high school, I flew to spend Christmas with my family. As I arrived at an airport in Jordan, I began to feel the ramifications of separating myself from my Middle Eastern culture. Since I could not read or write Arabic, only brokenly speak it, I had difficulty navigating the terminals to find the exit. Finally, I met up with my aunt and uncle who had come to pick me up. As we exchanged welcomes and discussed my flight in the taxi, I could literally see how different the area was outside of my window. For one, the towns were compact and not nearly as glamorous as what I was used to. Other than that, I was somewhat confused as to why I was forced to land in another country and then cross the border into Palestine. As I would later understand, there is no airport in the Palestinian territory, and the only other airport was in Israel. If I had landed in Israel, I would have faced a multitude of problems with the Israeli government. As we arrived at the border of Jordan and the West Bank of Palestine, I began the six-hour process of simply
At the age of sixteen, I took a major step forward in my life. For the first time, I would visit Bethlehem as a more mature human and without my parents. Over winter break of my junior year in high school, I flew to spend Christmas with my family. As I arrived at an airport in Jordan, I began to feel the ramifications of separating myself from my Middle Eastern culture. Since I could not read or write Arabic, only brokenly speak it, I had difficulty navigating the terminals to find the exit. Finally, I met up with my aunt and uncle who had come to pick me up. As we exchanged welcomes and discussed my flight in the taxi, I could literally see how different the area was outside of my window. For one, the towns were compact and not nearly as glamorous as what I was used to. Other than that, I was somewhat confused as to why I was forced to land in another country and then cross the border into Palestine. As I would later understand, there is no airport in the Palestinian territory, and the only other airport was in Israel. If I had landed in Israel, I would have faced a multitude of problems with the Israeli government. As we arrived at the border of Jordan and the West Bank of Palestine, I began the six-hour process of simply