Theory of Proximity

I fancy myself as an amateur ethnologist, I really do. The amount of time I spend "researching" people's profiles, finding parallels in their lives with mine, and observing the community around me with the naked eye seems to suggest just that; that I am an ethnologist in my own right.

Those who are unfortunate enough to be the subject of my "research" obsession can attest to the high level of dexterity I manifest in this trade. Mere strangers, do not be deterred by this entry. Rest assured I am not a psychopath who gives random people dirty phone calls in the middle of the night, although I may be a permanent visitor to your Facebook profile, and a distant observer of your many photo albums. Yes, I'm just your friendly, resident stalker (if you must belittle my newfound appellation).

Now that we both know that I am an accomplished stalker, let me compel you to read a social science inquiry I have recently formulated in accordance with my self-acclaimed elevated status of ethnologist. I liken my two year immersion into the American experience to the role of the ethnologist who "goes native", and thus have landed myself with an interesting theory of why the Americans I see act as they do.

We begin with the root of the inquiry, the crux, the situation that such an observation was in order. In a terse and crude approach--and I say this with honesty--Americans are extremely individualistic borderline self-absorbed, self-serving, and stingy. Note my qualifier "borderline" before you bash this little human with unkind words like racist and errr, racist. On the methodology, know that this inquiry is wholly legit for it is backed up with some substantial case studies, conducted and participated by: me.

The common experience I'm sure other international students share beef with me is the "thou shall share not" mentality Americans possess. This may pass of as a stereotypical remark; but again, these are empirical observations I myself have dilligently noted in my interactions with them.

To illustrate my point, an American is never ready to offer you the candybar/chips/soda he/she is holding in his/her hand; quite the contrary to the Asian manners of always offering and serving others before oneself. Or in isolated cases when they actually do, realize that they would never ask you twice, thrice, or incessantly bug you until you give in and take some.

Alas, when little things like a bag of chips are points to retract, more so are ingredients in the kitchen where the concept of "depletion" becomes more distressing (to them, that is) since it requires a trip to ol' faithful Walgreen's. It's safe to say there are three separate sets of cooking oil, butter, bread, sugar, salt, pepper and spices in my room thus far. Milk and juice are shared, but with precision whose turn it is to buy them this week or next.

Instead, here I am, always harrasing the Americans I care about to share what little I have. On the very sparing occassions that I cook, I ultimately get trumped because they are just not up for sharing. So to be fair, their self-reliance works when they are both on the receiving and giving end. But it still points to the obvious that sharing isn't quite practiced in this land of the free, doesn't it?

If sharing tangible materials is a non-practice, the trend observed for teamwork and collaboration leaves room for further probe. But what is sure is the different sense of camaraderie between us international students and us with them.

A case in point is the fact that we international students are extremely open to letting friends hold and read our solutions to problems for as long as they want; and for as much information they want to extract from, provided they don't get us in trouble with the university honor code. I have never triumphed in holding an American peer's problem set as freely as I could an international student's, sadly.

The facts laid out as they should, I shall provide you with my radical Theory of Proximity that seeks to explain this individualistic culture pertinent to Americans. I believe, with vehemence, that the source lies in the geography of the country itself. Think of the USA, the vast landscape encompassing 50 states, the different climate and time zones, the changing topology as you drive from the South to the Midwest, from East to West.

This gigantic land, housing states that are bigger than Malaysia, gives Americans much free space and individual cocoon to roam about in. Leave a metropolis like Chicago, New York or Boston and enter American suburban areas and you will understand what I mean. Homes are spread about, cars are necessary to travel from point A to point B, and less people are breathing in your near vicinity.

Even the aforementioned cities are no Mumbai, Jakarta and Bangkok; where people are literally neck-to-neck in slums that are one and many, and resources are scant. And so we, individuals born and bred in third world countries, developing countries, or just densely-populated countries, are decreed by the nature of our living, to share. We understand and embody the concept of "What is mine is yours".

Or at least if you do not agree, I do. I grew up in my grandmother's little bungalow, with my siblings, mother, three aunts, uncle, and cousins under one roof, at most days. Alas, it is fair to say sharing comes to me as naturally as farting does.

But think about it: every day, we face 40 friends in a sweltering hot public school classroom, with only a creaking fan and blackboard, sometimes having to share desks. If in Malaysia, the scenario is as such, what more in sub-Saharan Africa?

It is in fact, the proximity between peoples living together and sharing lives with that hugely affects their interactions with one another. The more people you literally and figuratively bump heads with, the more thoughtful you are about others' needs. For generations and generations next, the love for sharing finds firm roots in our community, right with the idea of nurture and the scientific term conditioning.

Americans, on the other hand, are blessed with the geographical endowment that leaves them free and unbound. My analysis is bereft of income distribution, socio-economic conditions and all that jazz, because I am inciting the idea of the generous space each person is entitled to in America, regardless of their plights.

So, as free and unbound as they are, they sadly lack the experience of sharing for a right to clean water, or a football field, or a dilapidated, shabby, wooden house in a community that seriously scrutinizes your every move (although I do not discount the dire living conditions in the American ghettos). The result of that? Ultra-individualistic, and shall I say "borderline" kedekut, kemut and berkira civilians.

p/s: If you haven't noticed, this entry is laden with satire and sarcasm. Take it with a pinch of salt, please, and don't sue me.