Foreign Kids in America
You have an Australian, a Slovenian, a Kenyan and a Polish-Ghanaian in a bar. It sounds like the setup for a bad joke. But in person it more closely resembled a meeting of a United Nations subcommittee—with one important difference. Mozzarella sticks.
And, boy, did those mozzarella sticks cause some international excitement. While FM’s assembled guests, who had gathered together to talk about their experiences at Harvard, differed in opinion on almost everything from the viability of the Core to the merits of those damn Yankees, they all agreed on one thing—wow those sticks were good—crunchy on the outside and warm and soft in the middle.
Americans, it seems, are just the opposite in the eyes of their international observers, almost gooey at first with their friendliness, but needing a lot of time and energy before yielding any real bite. “It’s so easy to make friends in America, unlike back home,” says Samuel M. Kabue ’06, who is from Kenya. “They are so warm and open.” But another Sam (Palmer-Amaning ’05), this time of the Polish-Ghanaian variety (his mother is the former, for those who are wondering), jumps in to disagree. “With relationships you cannot be too open immediately with Americans—people get offended so easily here.” And there was a brief moment of international tranquility as heads around the table nodded in unison. Those Americans, very uptight.
Maybe if Saddam had a better comic repertoire he’d be safe? The foreign experts were doubtful. As one might expect, there was plenty of hostility toward George W. Bush at Charlie’s on Sunday. Most suggested that their friends back home viewed Dubya as the typification of America, a swaggering and headstrong cowboy determined to shoot down everything in his path. (Even if the Democrats can’t register these foreigners to vote, perhaps they should consider hiring them as speech writers.)
Moreover, the international students suggested that their countrymen were better informed about American politics than their peers at Harvard. Rim Abida ’03 ventured that the quality of discussion about American policy was far more advanced in the outskirts of Tunis than on the banks of the Charles. But Alexander B.H. Turnbull ’05 at least was not allowing his stay in America to dull his awareness of the pressing dangers inherent in the war against terrorism. “Sure [my roommates and I] put together an emergency kit after hearing Tom Ridge talk,” he says. “Two packets of Marlboro Reds and a bottle of vodka.”
Drinking was another unifying topic, with the impact of globalization being potently demonstrated as European, African and Asian joined to rail against those pesky American drinking laws. (And, this time at least, many of their American undergraduate comrades would probably join in the spirit of global unity.) “Having to be 21 to drink is really annoying,” laments Bonnie M. Y. Poon ’04. “Back at high school in Hong Kong I used to go to the pub with my teachers all the time.” Yet in spite of almost all being of age, only Palmer-Amaning helped himself to a Heineken care of FM’s expense account. Five of the others, ordering over the fortuitous din of Kim Wilder’s Kids in America, went for a rather different beverage. “Diet Coke, please.”
A couple of the Diet Coke drinkers were happy, though, to complain about the “lack of sophistication” of their American peers. Obviously, irony is a less popular international commodity than carbonated beverages. So, why come to the States at all? It’s too cold here, there’s no decent soccer to follow and even at Harvard many of the people are, apparently, “shallow.” Why bother?
The answer was, to my mind, somewhat surprising. Overwhelmingly, the international students had been lured to Cambridge from across the globe not because of Harvard’s facilities, its faculty or its career-building connections. They had come instead searching for a broad, liberal education of the type that dominates in America but is impossible to find in the restrictive, single subject curricula at Oxford and Cambridge, where most of these students say they might have otherwise enrolled.
Whether the Core has lived up to the challenge of providing that education was somewhat more controversial. Palmer-Amaning, for example, was widely derided for saying that Moral Reasoning 22, “Justice,” was his favorite class at Harvard. But all seemed to revel in the freedom provided by Harvard’s curriculum. “I love the flexibility of a Harvard undergraduate education,” says Poon, now a psychology concentrator. “I changed concentrations four times.”
The international students praised the wealth of academic choice available at Harvard, while most of their American peers tend to grouse about the limits of the Core. Perhaps this helps to explain their unusually high satisfaction rate with their undergraduate experience. There is, though, another possible explanation for their contentment: grinding.
It is tempting, of course, to blame the language. After all, maybe their predilection for clubbing was the natural result when everyone tipped off the international students that life at Harvard was often “a grind.” But evidence suggests that the love of grinding may be more sexual than intellectual. “Grinding is the best thing about America. You don’t get it in other countries,” Turnbull says, reflecting on the irony of what he sees as America’s strangely bi-polar sensibilities. “You can’t see half-naked people on bus stops, [but] you can grind your genitals against half-naked people in clubs.” Kristel C. Leow ’04 admitted to being shocked by grinding after first arriving from Malaysia, but said she is quite used to it by now.
Yes, indeed: these international students seem to be quick studies. Both Palmer-Amaning and Kabue, perhaps spurred on by their love of grinding, have spent time in the Harvard-Radcliffe Ballroom Dance Club, something that has earned some gentle mockery from friends back home. But Palmer-Amaning found his new-found skills served him well. “It is a very useful skill to know how to turn a girl around,” he explains. Kabue, though, has a slightly less positive view of the practical benefits of learning to dance at Harvard. “I think the girls here are just great. But you can’t compare them to the girls at home—different standards.”
International diplomacy at its finest.