American Pie

A long, long time ago and I can still remember how the music used to make me smile.

Don McLean's iconic anthem was the theme song of my semester abroad in Bogotá, Colombia in 1985. My friends and I possessed three cassette tapes: The Eagles' Hotel California, Chicago's Greatest Hits, and American Pie, which we listened to on repeat until we knew every word. Sometimes we would even convince a local bus driver to play our cassettes.

I didn't realize it at the time, but the reason American Pie resonated so deeply with us was precisely because it was, as McLean describes it, "a big, American song." The song runs eight and a half minutes and references "the day the music died," when a plane crashed in 1959 and killed Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and The Big Bopper. While the meaning of the lyrics has been debated for over fifty years now, some things are clear.

Rock 'n' Roll, football games, marching bands, Chevys, dances in the gym, James Dean, the Bible, and American pie. The lyrics are overflowing with images of American culture as we transitioned from the wholesome and prosperous 1950s to the explosive and chaotic 1960s. The song is ultimately about a loss of innocence in a changing world and questioning the things we were taught to believe. It's a coming-of-age story. In other words, it paralleled my study abroad experience to a tee.

We were nostalgic for things from home we couldn't get in Colombia, but more than that, our eyes were being opened to the harsh realities of the world. The streets were full of children begging for money and drinking gasoline to stay warm. We visited a farm for these so-called gamines outside of the city run by a kindly Catholic priest. The boys seemed happy to be off the streets. The rules were fairly strict, but the kids were allowed to smoke cigarettes.

Even though my friends and I were all smokers at the time, we were shocked that children were allowed to smoke. We were also blown away that students smoked in class at Uniandes and threw the butts on the floor. However, I was told repeatedly at bus stops by old women who didn't know me that "solamente putas fuman en la calle." Only whores smoke in the street.

Changed for Good

As is the case with many people who study abroad, my life was changed forever by the experience. When you live in another country, you not only learn about that country's culture, you start to understand yourself and your own culture. For example, in Colombia, you greet friends with two kisses and stand very close to one another when talking. It's an epiphany when you realize that 'a comfort zone' is not universally defined.

The hardest adjustment for me was la hora latina or Latin time. Raised from birth to believe that punctuality is next to godliness, I could not get over the fact that being on time was not a priority for Colombians. Professors arrived fifteen minutes late for every class. If friends said they'd meet you at 8:00, you wouldn't see them until 10:00. I knew that this was a cultural difference, but my own engrained culture couldn't adjust to the idea of lateness being okay.

Years later, I would study cultural differences and learn about the difference between monochronic and polychronic views of time. In countries like the U.S., time is seen as a commodity. We value planning, scheduling, efficiency, deadlines and completing tasks one at a time. In polychronic cultures, time is not viewed as linear, but as circular. In countries like Colombia, the important values are living in the present, flexibility, team-building, multitasking, and personal relationships. Your life is not ruled by your Google calendar.

Born in the USA

The more I learned about another culture the more I understood how I am shaped by my culture. Not only am I loathe to excuse tardiness for any reason, I measure my distances in miles, my temperatures in Fahrenheit, and my weight in pounds (ugh). Did you know that the United States is the only country in the world that doesn't use the Celsius scale? The only one. Liberia and Myanmar join us in not using the metric system, so we're not completely alone in that.

We also seem to be the only country where soccer is not the number one sport. I attended a soccer match in Bogotá and it was wild. The fans were cray-cray. (My clearest memory of the event is eating a hot dog that was topped with potato chip crumbs.) I've been in many different countries during the World Cup and it seems like every single person on earth is deeply invested the outcome. Except for us. Which is fine.

There are so many other things we assume are universal until we discover they're unique to the USA: cups filled to the brim with ice cubes, frigid AC on boiling hot days, wash cloths in the shower, pajamas worn in public, cheerleaders shaking pom poms, eating in the car, lunch at your desk, carrying a cup of coffee down the street, free refills, yellow school buses, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and more. These activities aren't all exclusive to the USA but would not be common in other countries.

The Rules of the Game

Culture is everything. It shapes us in every way, mostly unbeknownst to us. Even if an individual within a culture shares little in common with broader cultural norms, that person still knows 'the rules of the game.' Maybe you're a soccer-loving snazzy dresser who prefers your beverages at room temperature. You still know that your preferences are not the norm in Alabama.

The more we understand the influence of culture on each person, the better we understand why we are the way we are and do the things we do. We learn that different does not equal bad. We discover that an action we perceive to be rude may not be rude at all. For example, in Argentina you have to ask the server for the check. They consider it rude to 'rush you' by bringing the bill after you've finished. You can sit there all night, but they would never be so disrespectful as to hint that you should leave.

I haven't really talked about pie. As Sabah Drabu points out, it would be more accurate to say "as American as blueberry cobbler" instead of "as American as apple pie." Blueberries are native to North America, unlike apples, and cobbler is indeed an American invention. Still, I think of pie as an American food even though they're common in other English-speaking countries. You're certainly not going to get a wide selection of pie at a diner anywhere else. There's not even a word for pie in Spanish. Or we could say "as American as pumpkin pie." I've never met an international person who liked it. At least we have the song, a glorious ode to American Pie.