Intercultural Baby Names

When trying to learn about other cultures in a deep and meaningful way, it is best to learn about your own culture. I adapted this approach to choosing a baby name. I rather enjoyed my name as a child and an adult. It seems that whenever I travel to another country, people have their own pronunciation for Alexander. I was recently as far as Ethiopia. When I introduced myself, people would feel a relationship. “Alex, I have a brother Alemeyu, that is Alex in Amharic”. Its like wherever I go, I have a name that connects me with the place. I am Sasha in Russia, Alejandro in the Spanish speaking world and İskender in the Turkey. In this way my name and its intercultural adaptability represent my values.

The name my partner and I came up with is Eden. The name derives from the old testament and therefore has relevance in areas where Judaism, Christianity and Islam are relevant. In areas of the world where the big three religions are not as relevant, the name can work as well. The Garden of Eden is a Jungian archetype. This means that the name could be translated to languages beyond the Western tradition.

Japan and September Eleventh 2001

He leaned over the arm of the chair and showed me the text on his phone. Two images of a tiny flame flipped back and fourth in a flip book animation of a flame. "Look at that," he said, “I didn't know you could send animation through these things.” looked at the flame, then read the text. AMERICA IS UNDER ATTACK. Busy noises of keyboard and mouse clicks that filled the internet cafe were silent. The combination of the crude image and my colleague's mild response ignited a little spark in me. I faced forward and turned to the glowing box of information. I typed the address for the NY Times, but my response timed out. The storied newspaper was gone, and the spark ignited into a flame. I typed the address for Yahoo and saw the headline that confirmed it. The country that I just left 5 days earlier was under attack. The second tower had fallen, but there was no more sense to be made. Comments under the headline blamed the Zionists and Illuminati, but actual news was scarce. Who attacked, what was the context of this? As the flame inside me was building, it narrowed my focus. In one sweeping motion, I got up, paid for the internet time, and left.
With each step towards my apartment, the manic scene of purpose started to burn hotter. My feet fell flatter on the ground with my forehead tipped towards my destination. I saw a fellow foreigner in the train station. I had only been in Japan a few days and already started to identify myself as the group of foreigners. He was one of my people. I could see from the ease in his step he was not aware of the doom that had fallen. I wanted to reach out in some way and spread the news, somehow spread the flame the burned inside me. I thought of saying "The towers are down, the U.S. is under attack, what can you tell me?" But I stopped myself and kept walking.
My mind raced, I'm in Japan should I be?, what about my family?, will the attack spread?, Then I remembered, my dad regularly went to the Twin Towers for business. I had to check on him. I ran to the AM PM, the closest convenience store. I entered and ignored the usually powerful aroma of boiled rice and fish snacks. I saw a fresh faced attendant and an empty store. "How could his face not reflect the terror that was happening?", I thought. Despite not speaking Japanese, I thought that the sheer intensity of the moment would allow us to escape our distinct language. I made a gesture for making a phone call, my hands purposefully enacting the game of charades, by my eyes burning with an intensity. While he was speaking, he picked up a phone card. I pointed to the phone booth outside, hoping the equation of phonecard you are holding+phone I am pointing to out there, could be solved. He put the card down and slid another off the rack. He placed the card on the table, I studied it and tried to decipher how to work the thing. I figured the card worked the same as in the US, put down my last 1,000 yen, and walked straight to the phone.
Still, as I recall, I don't know how the next event fully transpired. With all my focus and single minded determination to check on my family, you would think that I could have been more careful. I placed the phone card on the back of phone so I could read it while dialing. Then the thin card slipped in a narrow crevice between the phone and the booth. I could not retrieve it. Where on earth could it go? I thought. I shook every thing in the phone booth, but it was all secured. I started to put together the situation. My money was gone, I didn't have access to money till the banks open tomorrow, I was looking at a phone that would connect me with the people I love, but couldn't use it. A could shiver ran straight up my back and I suddenly felt alone. I squinted at the phone and looked at it for what seemed like the first time. The contours of the phone came into sharp focus, the colors of the phone radiated. I don't think I have ever focused so hard on anything my whole life. This device is what connects me to the ones I love, I must solve it. I could not fine a solution.
I walked back into the AM PM again and tried to bargain for another phone card with a wallet empty of money and a receipt for the phone card I just lost in the phone booth. My increasingly frantic game of charades were not succeeding, for good reason, what I wanted was off the script. What I was asking for was charity, "give me a card for free because I am out of money." Things were going nowhere and my emotions were a raging blaze of desperation, purpose and determination. The fire inside me was burning out of control. In my desperation, I depicted the two planes smashing into the twin towers with my hand and arm and tried to convey my concern for my dad. I don't know exactly what was communicated with my manic gesticulations and wavering voice on the verge of frustrated sobs, but something was communicated. He quickly gave me a card, fearful of what I would do next.
I felt my pointer and thumb grip tightly the thin paper card, pushing the blood out of both fingertips. I marched back to the phone, entered the code and my mom picked up the phone. "Its Alex" I said....then the line went dead. I dialed the code again to learn that I had spent my 500 yen and only had 500 more. I dialed again my mom picked up again and knew what to do, "Dad's, ok, everybody we know is ok...." the line went dead after that and the card was out of money. My fire was quenched for a time.
Later that week I returned to the AM PM to buy groceries. There was a sign in the window that said "We regret the events of September 11th." I purchased my ramen noodles and left the store. It wasn't until several months later that I realized that I was the only English speaker that shopped at that store. The sign was written and pasted on the front door of AM PM for me and me alone. As my understanding of Japan increased, I realized how special that sign was. Due to hierarchical society, the boss of the the store or maybe even the regional director must have authorized the sign. Therefore, the story of my desperate attempt with the phone card must have spread. Also, Japan is a country where the group is vastly more important than the individual. Therefore, the fact that a sign which most customers could not read was pasted on the front door extremely powerful. The flame that burned inside me spread like wildfire, and compassion was left in its wake.

This is candy

Stereotypes the world over

“All Muslims are terrorists and all Protestants are copiers”-An Ethiopian man sharing his view with me while in a car.

While doing an intercultural adventure, it is important to find people with strong opinions and who are willing to share. Perhaps it is because I am from Minnesota, where people are less obvious about their views. I believe that behind every opinionated person with strong and perhaps negative views, there are a dozen silent people with similar views. I find exploring the negative options of others especially illuminating. Let’s take the “All Muslims are terrorists” line for example. From this quote I can understand a few things about the gentleman. Considering there is a 32% population of Muslims and a dearth of Muslim terrorist attacks in Ethiopia, I can deduce that the man has formed his opinion based on media or gossip.

What I found the more interesting portion of this comment is the assertion that all Protestants are copycats. This indicates a few things. First, I could deduce, he is proud of his Ethiopian Christian Orthodox tradition and recognizes the value of its time tested traditions. Second, he places value on the age of the religion. Christian Orthodoxy traces its origins to the beginning of the faith, consequently one could understand how the Protestant tradition could be seen as a copy of an older tradition.

I find stereotypical views like these so insightful, for the sheer reason that they are not often expressed. How many other Orthodox Ethiopians, I wonder, view Muslims as terrorists and Protestants as copiers? Can I use this insight to covertly shape a more tolerant message with others I meet along the way? With this knowledge I feel more compelled to share my positive experiences with Muslims with others I meet in my Ethiopian journey.

Eventually I felt obligated to share my experience. "I have Muslim friends who are not terrorists." I felt it best to stick with my direct experience, rather than something more abstract, such as "Powerful groups will often terrorize others in order to obtain control." Or something more pointed, such as "I know plenty of Muslim Oromo people in Minneapolis who say they were terrorized by Orthodox people." People are more receptive to new ideas, when they don't feel like they have to justify their ideas. Really, what is the guy going to say, "No you don't have friends that are Muslims." That would just be ridiculous. He did not say this however. He changed the subject to how he would like to see Yani live in concert.

Intercultural Tip: The best argument seldom influences. Often, your personal experience will introduce enough doubt into a rigid world view to slowly influence.

Ethiopia Archives: Mass of Humanity

Not only was there technological differences to live in Ethiopia, but there were also cultural similarities. Jessi was telling a story of how there was a mass of humanity in Ethiopia. This “mass of humanity” is how I describe the experience where we were always shaking hands, bumping shoulders, squeezed into spaces with others and holding other peoples’ babies in Ethiopia. The “mass of humanity” is the one over arching experience that I had while in Africa both when I went to West Africa in 2007 and most recently that I enjoyed. With it you get this sense that you are a part of a massive, shared human experience. Although it could be considered gross, crowded or stressful, there is something about hearing adults laughing, while a baby cries, while smelling everyone’s’ sweat while squeezed into a mini bus that seats 9 actually seating about 14. Although not something one would traditionally be described as pleasant, it gives you a sense of this raw human experience that we are all sharing together. Everybody eats, sweats, cries, laughs and dies no matter what language is spoken or technology is possessed. And although one can understand this concept intellectually or can rehearse the previous sentence and repeat it. It is the experience of being on a crowded bus that one can really feel it.

I was surprised to hear of my Dad remember when he moved from his small town that he shared with his 13 other immediate siblings, that he missed this as well. He remembers being in Minneapolis while working at a big accounting firm and missing the constant noise, physical attention and constant humanity that was his life in the small town.

Although the “mass of humanity” is an experience I was able to put words to due to my experience in Africa, it is an understanding that belongs not to a single continent, but to a way of life that is more rural. In one way I felt that this experience that I had while in Africa brought me closer to my parents. It was almost as if I had to all the way to Africa to understand the living situations my parents grew up in while in their own rural “village.”

Mass of humanity near and far

While discussing the village life Jessi and I experienced while in Ethiopia, stories started pouring forth from my parents. I learned for the first time that my extended family didn’t have a running water toilet in their house until the 1980s. I also learned that my mom went to a one room K-8 school where all students would use a single outhouse for a toilet. Before eating lunch each student in this k-8 school would reuse water from a single basin to wash their hands. The last student to wash her hands got the dirtiest water. It was funny how Jessi and I thought we were having this real village life experience with limited electricity and running water. To our parents, this was nothing new. I am a little disappointed in myself that I wasn’t able to bring these stories about my parent's history to people we met outside the main city in Ethiopia. It would have been nice to share with them because it would illustrate how America is not this shining metropolis on the hill where every family and household had running water and electricity since its invention. Perhaps it would have given the people we spoke with the confidence to see how technological development is a developmental process.

Intercultural Tip: Technology can either widen or shorten cultural divides.

Robot market and the perfect price

I remember from economics class how firms try to navigate pricing. On one side of the spectrum, if you negotiation with each and every customer, you will be able to get the perfect price for each customer. But this takes too long plus it all depends on the skill of the negotiator. So companies decide to set a standard price. This way companies don't have to train every sales rep in negotiation, plus they can conduct business quickly.
Imagine at the grocery store

Clerk: "One can of beans, four dollars."
You:"Four dollars, this is absurd. I will give you a quarter"
Clerk: "A quarter, no sir. That will not even cover the cost of the can those beans are in. A dollar, this is my best price"
You: "Ok a dollar."
Clerk: Scans beans and sends them down to the bags. Picks up other can of beans. "One can of beans, 5 dollars."
You: "Five dollars, you just sold me the identical one for a dollar"
Clerk: "Everyone knows you need two cans of beans to make anything."

This situation is absurd in a western style supermarket. Supermarkets make up for their lack of negotiating a perfect price for each item by volume.

But what if supermarkets could train a robot. A robot that is an expert negotiator and has an unlimited amount of time. Time and negotiation skills are the only two things that are keeping supermarkets from getting the perfect price.

I found the robot. And it is inside the ticket pricing of airline ticket sales.

As I was booking my flight to Portland. I stepped away from the computer to eat dinner. When I came back, the ticket price increased $100 dollars. I couldn't believe it. I saw red glowing letters in the lower corner, 2 seats left. I remembered this feeling from the markets of India. If you come back to a vendor, he knows you are desperate and can jack the price. But,how could the airlines know it was me coming back?
I logged out, then searched without logging in, to see if I could mask my identity. The price had jumped by another 50 dollars. This was getting ridiculous. I was feeling jerked around. I logged in via a virtual connection, so there was no way the airlines could trace my computer. The price was holding steady at 150 dollars above what I initially thought I was going to pay. I pulled up Amtrak and realized that their prices are a joke. I pulled up a driving map to Portland and realized I couldn't make it in time. I decided to sleep on it. The next morning I searched again and the price dropped back down to the original level I was set on.

I don't know what sort of robot I was negotiating with, but I dealt with it the same way I did the in markets of India. I just kept asking for the same price over and over again, refusing the answer I didn't want to hear.

Intercultural Tip: Specific cultural skills are not always culturally bound. Find ways to apply skills learned abroad in the new context back home.

Intercultural Adventure India Part Three

Intercultural Adventure India Part Two

Intercultural Adventure in India

Truth in conversation

While taking a bus home from the University of Minnesota the other day I sat next to a young man from France. I remember beginning the typical intellectual conversation that rides home on the dedicated university bus usually provide. However, something was different this time. I noticed my conversation partner drawing me into a debate. I initially tried to find points of agreement, but then I was quickly served with a "but" or "however". I soon realized the nature of interaction would be a polite debate. For the uninitiated, a polite debate is one typical of a cafe in Paris or a coffee shop in Vienna. The conversations are philosophical and challenging. I relished this chance and enjoyed debating the role of the West for the next seven minutes.

Many French people I have met seem to have a more nuanced handle on the art of conversation. I find myself debating more, making connections between various concepts more, and discussing things for their own sake more often with people from France. Perhaps it is due to the salon culture, perhaps it is due to the extended vacations or longer lunches. Something in the French culture places value on conversation, ideas, and the "the world of forms" as Plato would call it. An American may respond to this form of conversation by saying, "Less talk, more action."

In The Geography of Thought Nisbett argues that the West's conversational culture is rooted in Mediterranean and especially Greek geography. Because Greece was a mixing pot of various cultures that developed on the surrounding islands and across the navigable Mediterranean sea, the culture needed to develop a way to explore an acceptable truth across cultures. They did this by separating ideas from identities. This way people from two cultures could disagree with each others ideas, but not resent each others identities.

The result of this geography is still experienced today in my conversation with the gentleman from France. As one who enjoys debate, but who is also sensitive to face saving, I am glad the West developed a way to separate ideas from identities.

Intercultural Tip: If you think you are just chatting, keep in mind that the function of conversation is different in different cultures.

How to make failure cheap or How you know a bad deal

While working with entrepreneurs, I notice they develop an ability to make failure cheap. This idea is fleshed out by Scott Anthony a bit. Essentially it is ability to design a system so that if and when failure occurs it does not cost very much.
I naturally apply this method when traveling. When I went to India, it had been nearly a year since I had experience negotiating cross culturally. My negotiation skills were fairly weak and knew I needed to get the bad deals out of the way in a hurry. So I sought out some inexpensive items to being with and negotiate away.
The first deal was for these furry slippers that would be perfect for my dad. I casually look at them then begin to negotiate. I hit all the points of the deal.
1. Interjecting deal talk with relationship talk. I learned the young man was from Kashmir.
2. Grouping items, so that you have multiple elements within the negotiation. I added another pair of slippers and a hat. I would add volume and drop price, then drop volume and and keep price.
3. Force the deal. I put the money I was willing to pay in his hand.

Once I finished the deal and the Kashmiri guy accepted the money. He started packing my items in a nice bag. This was a bad sign. If you strike a really good deal, the vendor will just take your money and let you walk away with the items without a bag. By his courteous bagging of my items, I figured I payed about 15% too much.
After the slippers were bagged, the guy told me that if I was ever around I should enjoy tea with him. This was a further indicated that I paid too much. He was really happy with the outcome of the deal. After this invitation, I suspect I paid about 20% over what more savvy bargainers pay.
Then he said something I will never forget, "you are my friend. No, my brother. You are my brother." He probably said this because he will use what I paid for a down payment on his dowry. I must have really gotten taken.

It turns out that I had forgotten to walk away at least twice. I had also forgotten to bargain in earlier in the day, as I have more time to shop around. I was rusty. I am glad I got this deal out of way for inexpensive slippers.

Which of these things are not like the other

If you have ever watched Sesame Street, you would know the game "Which of these things are not like the other".

Here is an example


Lets play the game for things in India! In each of these images, there is a series of items. See which one does not fit our culture.

American Negotiation

One thing traveling in a developing country does to you is develop your sense of what is possible. As I mentioned in previous blogs, everything is negotiable. This realization of the possibility sticks with me weeks after I return. Little did the agent at the rental car agency know.
I got this call on the phone asking if I had received the packet of information regarding damage to the rental car I had recently rented in Denver. I mentioned that I did not and it turns out that they had sent it to the wrong address. I rented that car several weeks ago, but I remember my interaction at the return station. The car check in person noticed a small indentation in the hood of my car and mentioned I would be getting a phone call. I didn't respond at the time because I was focused on catching a flight. But, here was the call, several weeks later and I was ready.
Because you Intercultural Adventurers know from the post

Negotiation in a land where "Nothing is available, but everything is possible"

that all things are negotiable, I will structure this post similarly.

Indian Step One: Order Chai.
In India, I ordered chai for various reasons. But this tactic was not available. I wanted the same effect, so I modified. I ordered the agent to send the packet to me overnight.
This does two things
First, it enriches the power dynamic. He may be able to order me to pay for damages, but I can still order that he send the packet to the correct address.
Second, I am acknowledging the culture of an agent in a call center. Having worked in a call center myself as a kid, I remember that following the process was all I was allowed to do. I could do something extra, such as overnight a package, if it was contributing to the process.

Indian Step Two: Interrupted for advice.
Again, I needed to modify this for the more direct culture. I asked the agent if he was from Denver.
My intent with this question was as follows.
First, it subtlety establishes the fact that he was no where near the event and does not know the details of the car, the agency or the employees in question.
Second, it gives the negotiation time to breathe. It lets the agent know that this will not be a pro forma interaction.
Third. When one asks questions, they are establishing a power dynamics. Think of cop movies, "We are the ones asking the questions here."

American Step: Debate.
This is something I learned not to do in most other countries. In the rest of the world, deals happen because of relationships between individuals, not the salience of points won in honest non-personal debate, matter. But with this agent, I was on my home turf.
First attack the subject of the matter: "I disagree with the allegation that there is damage. While I did notice something on the hood of the car after the check in person pointed it out. It was invisible in most light conditions, and I had to bend over to see what the person talking about."

Second attack the process: "Furthermore I disagree that the way in which I was held liable for damage to the vehicle. When I rented out the car, the sales agent held report where I should have been able to indicate previous damage to the car. On top of that the sales agent quickly walked me around the car. Had I been given the report or given the time to fully inspect the vehicle, I may have noticed the small indentation on the hood.

Third, feign insult while demanding credibility. "I didn't jump on the hood or park my car under trees with falling branches. Furthermore, I would not wipe off the evidence such as marks or scratches on the car if that were the case. I would own up to it. I don't even know what caused this indentation"

Indian Step Three: Flatter
While flattery in America will not get you as far as in other countries, face saving is still something to consider. After all, if I were to get this guy angry, he could come after me as a matter of spite. After all, he has nothing vested in the entire case. "I know you are just doing your job and you don't make the rules. But damage was there before I rented the car and the process for determining that I am liable is weak. You can't control these things. " On top of this, I wanted to give him a way to take the high road, or at least tell his boss that he took the high road. "This is my first rental car experience with your company. I have many years left in my rental car life. I am going to rent a car in the future, so I don't know that, from a business perspective this is really worth it. Anyway send the paperwork my way and we will see what happens."

I got a call 20 minutes later
"We determined the damage to the vehicle to be pre-existing."

Intercultural Tip: Your experience in other cultures are not locked there. Integrate what works.

The middle class and high fives

One of the nice things about visiting a country that has an emerging middle class, is that you can meet tourists from the same country. While I was traveling in Africa or even South East Asia, the only other travelers were from out of the country. One of the ways a traveler can tell if there is an emerging middle class, is if your are being asked to pose in photos while at famous sites.
While Jessi and I were at the Taj Mahal, we were part of the scenery for many of the Indians visiting from the rest of the country. Of course, no one in Agra (the city of the Taj) would want to take a photo of a foreign tourist, they see them all the time.
After posing in a dozen photos with individuals and families visiting, I started to want more. The whole process started to feel a little transactional. The family comes up with the camera, often times right after they had seen someone else take a picture with us, and point to the camera and then my face. After the picture is snapped, they walk away.
There was one group of 6 boys and each of them wanted an individual picture with Jessi and I. The funny thing was that they each wanted to wear the same hat in the picture. So one would sit next to us, his friend would take a picture, then he would quickly get up and exchange the camera for a hat the newly photographed model was wearing. Seeing this transaction take place time after time for six teenage boys seemed a bit surreal.
This was the experience where I decided to make something happen. I decided on high fives. Why not engage in the unique American ritual of high fives after taking a picture, or a snap as folks seemed to call it?
Many of the people did not know what to do when I put in my hand up in the high five motion. After I put my hand up for the high five and got strange looks, I had, what I can only describe, as cultural microshock. A brief and embodied realization that I was in a different culture. I had given thousands of high fives in my life. To put my hand out there and have it hang was, was hard to describe. Dispite people wearing Nike shoes and taking snaps with Sony cameras, the high five was still an alien practice. I had to demonstrate with Jessi and within a few seconds the high five was properly executed. In the hot sun I started imagining myself as the Johnny Appleseed of high fives. As the white marble reflected the hot noon time sun towards my brain, I could envision Indian tourists going back to their homes and giving high fives. How far could it go?

High fives in the boardrooms of Wirpo and Tata corporation?
You may now high five the bride.
The leaders of Pakistan and India solidifying a peace deal with a jumping high five?

It really was hot that day.

Intercultural Tip: Children approach the unknown with a sense of playfulness. Adopting this approach will help you to create new categories and ways of knowing . At the very least, it will foster a sense of humility towards the unknown.

The loud wrong songs

Sometimes when speaking in or reading our own language, we can be fooled into thinking we are communicating in our own culture. The idea of what constitutes items in a category is often what seems to fool people. I remember when I was traveling in Uganda and a city planner was complaining about a lack of zoning.
"They are building night clubs and churches right in the neighborhoods. It is terrible."
When I first heard this, I applied my own U.S. American, Puritan, framework. I interpreted him to be saying,
"Isn't it awful that you can build a den of drinking and sin right next to the house of the lord."
However, after a difficult night of trying to sleep with the sounds of music and merry making pouring out the the nightclub and into my window, then being worken up at the crack of dawn with enthusiastic Pentecostal exclamations of faith out of the church and in through my window, did I really understand the Ugandan urban planner. He was talking about the noise. I had forgotten how loud churches are in Africa.

Here is an intercultural test. Read the sign below. What doesn't fit the series.



Intercultural Tip: We group things in categories to make our minds efficient. However, these categories are culturally constructed and may need readjusting.

From high to NO context

Amsterdam has been my transit point from Africa and now from India. The more I cross through, the more the city seems to be taking on the properties of a sort of cultural quarantine or palate cleanser. This became apparent, when coming from a high context culture, to a low (if not lowest) context culture.

After I jumped on the bus, I remembered that there are different fares for different stops. I went to the bus driver and said "Amsterdam Centraal", making sure to pronounce the long "aa" as I had heard over the automated speaker system, just to avoid any misunderstanding.

"Yes Amsterdam Central, interesting." The driver responds in a terse English.

I paused and stood there in a daze. Partially because I had not slept in two days and partially because I did not know what this driver wanted from me. "I am going to Amsterdam Central" I say while standing in the front of the moving bus with my Euros out in my hand.

"What a coincidence, I am going there as well." The driver responds, keeping his eyes on the road while turning a corner

"May I buy a ticket for Amsterdam Central?" I ask, hoping that I explained in low enough context to satisfy the bus driver.

"Yes of course" the driver responds while tearing off the ticket and then giving the correct change.

The extent of the amount of context necessary is culturally determined. The bus driver and I could have done on further.

"I would like to engage in a commercial transaction in which I exchange these coins for an agreement, which will be documented in a ticket, to allow me to take this bus to central station"

Why was this bus driver doing this? I suspect, he understood from the context that I wanted to buy a ticket. He probably wanted me to use a lower amount of context communication as a show of respect. I could imagine him saying, "I am a human being, not a computer. The least you can do is use a full sentence to explain what you want." The interesting thing is that in a higher context culture, one could be equally offended, "You don't have the spell the entire thing out, do I look like an idiot to you. Clearly we are here on a bus heading in the direction of the central station."

Intercultural Tip: The amount of context you rely upon to convey a message has implications for the amount of respect you are showing in a culture.

Musings on trade and simultaneous discovery

While traveling back from India, I had a 7 hour stop over in Amsterdam. In this small amount of time I was able to get in to the Van Gogh Museum. This is an excellent museum that pays special attention to the artist's narrative and its relation to the visual works of art. One of the things that interested me as an interculturalist was the effect that woodblock prints had on the artistic community.

The interest of European artists in woodblock prints seems to correlate with the opening up of Japan to more normalized trade relations with the West. Can you image the excitement of having a culture that has had all psychical manifestations of culture hidden from the rest of the world, then suddenly revealed? Artists poured over these new beautiful woodblock prints coming out of Japan at the same time. The creative process of copying and interpreting began almost immediately. This, I imagine, is different than one artist getting inspired by a little known work of art. This is an entire community of artists simultaneously discovering and interpreting the same forms of art from the same culture at the same time.

It is not like the discovery of new art like today's Mashup or Crunk dancing, but it is an art that has been refined for hundreds if not nearly a thousand years. Woodblock printing has been studied, refined and passed from generation to generation in Japan for hundreds of years.
Also, it is not like the Rosetta stone, which was lost and rediscovered. Woodblock prints were a living art at the time they were revealed to the West.

While standing in the museum imagining Van Gough and his peers being inspired by, interpreting, and creating woodblock prints, then competing and teaming with each other to create a new artistic vision, I wondered if anything like this could happen today.

If Iran or Cuba opened up to more normalized trade relations, I don't know if anything would be different. I have seen Iranian movies and have listened to Cuban music. Now that information flows so freely between boarders, could there ever be a moment where a community simultaneously discovers an entire culture of living art work at the same time?

Perhaps I could muse a possibility. It would not be as concrete as physical manifestations of culture, such as a painting, dance, or music. But, it would be the invisible forms of culture that has always been present, but almost invisible.

Intercultural Tip: Different cultural traditions belong to the world, take them, interpret them and apply them to your own life.

Negotiation in a land where "Nothing is available, but everything is possible"

India, where nothing is available, but everything is possible. When I first heard this aphorism from a traveler who had spend nearly a year in India, I found that it did not represent my experience. Everything I needed seemed available, my flight, my accommodations and my new favorite breakfast parathas, in the morning. As time wore on though, I started to see the wisdom in this pithy saying.

A pattern started to develop whenever I inquired about long journeys.

"How can I take a train to Agra from here"

"It is not possible, the train is all booked. You must take a private taxi."

"I need to get to the ashram, do you know the way?"

"The ashram is closed, you should stay at this nice hotel and go tomorrow."

"I am going to the booking office, it's upstairs right?"

"The booking office is not accepting visitors today. But there is a new booking office this way, come follow me."

"I am looking for a reasonably priced way to enjoy India."

"Reason is closed, why not try my significantly overpriced way?"

Actually, having dealt with the "nothing is available" trick before in South East Asia, West and East Africa, and Detroit, I have developed some competencies.

When I needed to get out of town one day I successfully navigated the difficult terrain of getting a booking agent to order me regular train tickets and accept the standard commission.

Step One:

Order Chai.

Chai or tea, is how business gets done in India. In other countries, the drink is different, but the notion is the same. By me ordering Chai I am doing several things.

First, I am indicating that I will be sitting there for at least the durration of the drink.

Second, I am initiating a local ritual thereby showing respect and knowledge of the local custom. If things start to go poorly, I could always suggest "Listen, I sat down and ordered Chai, don't treat me like an idiot that knows nothing of India."

Third, by me ordering the Chai, it starts to enrich the power dynamic between me and the booking agent. While I do have the rupees and the power to walk out, the booking agent has local knowledge and the ability to trick me. Me ordering chai, increases my power because I am requesting a favor, but it also increases the agents power of proving me a favor.

Step Two:

Interrupt for advice.

While the agent was going through his rehearsed script telling me how impossible it would be to book regular train tickets and how awful the train is anyway, I interrupted him to ask a seemingly banal question. "Which is better the Golden Temple or the Taj Mahal?"

This does three things.

First, by interrupting him I am increasing negotiation power stance.

Second, by asking a unrelated question, it suggests, but does not explicitly call attention to the fact, that I know he is feeding me a line.

Third, by asking his opinion on a matter of taste, I am treating him as a person with opinions versus just a person who books tickets and pushes buttons.

Step Three:

Flatter

I am playing a game and the agent is playing a game. At this point, we both realize that we are players. The agent is probably disappointed that I am rejecting his story that the train is unavailable. As he was booking the train tickets, his ego could even be a little wounded. By the vary act of booking tickets easily, he is admitting that he was less than truthful regarding the availability and difficulty of booking train tickets. Flattery is the gentle push that will keep the inertia going in my direction. I noted the fresh paint in the office, and remarked how nice it was. It turned out the agent was rather proud of the painting job. He had brought someone in from the local big town to do the job.

Intercultural Tip: Set prices and standard policies disguise the fact that everything is negotiable.