Cultural Immersion: Interview with Julie Schwieter Collazo
Julie: Living back and forth between New York and Mexico CityLike many travellers, Julie Schwieter Collazo loves to immerse herself in foreign cultures - by reading more about the places she’s visiting, learning the language, and by meeting the locals. The opportunity to see - and experience - another culture first-hand is one of the main inspirations behind her travels.
Originally from the southern United States, Julie lives back and forth between New York and Mexico City with her husband, Francisco. Until recently, they also lived in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
TravelBlogs caught up with her to talk more about her experiences living in foreign cultures.
What is home to you?
Great question. It’s one I’ve always asked myself and it’s particularly timely because I’m working on an article about an author from my hometown whose most recent book is about this very subject. I’m from South Carolina, where I think the idea of home is, for many people, deeply rooted in the idea of a shared history stretching back several generations. Although I was born and raised there, my parents were not from there and I never felt that South Carolina was my home. My last name was strange, I didn’t have quite the same accent, and I chafed against dominant social values, which were largely conservative. I spent most of my childhood feeling disconnected from people who created a sense of home through this rather closed community, which probably served to direct my attention beyond its borders. I think that home, for me, is not so much about a physical place or structure–I counted the other day, and if memory serves, I’ve lived in at least 12 different apartments since leaving my childhood home. Family and friends have decided either to write my address in pencil or just use e-mail, and the other day I failed a credit background check because I forgot a former address, required for verification purposes. Instead, home is, above all, an abstract feeling–it’s how I feel in a place and how I am able to connect with people and some larger narrative that’s unfolding there. I have been at home in many different places and with many different people.
Home is, above all, an abstract feeling–it’s how I feel in a place and how I am able to connect with people and some larger narrative that’s unfolding there
At the same time, I really value the places, the physical structures that I’ve inhabited and almost all of them evoke powerful memories for me and I’ve become very attached to them. When I come home in New York, when I went home in Puerto Rico, when I’m at home in Mexico City, I experience similar feelings even though the apartments and neighborhoods are entirely different. But I think even these structures come back to the human element of home–each of the places where I live now was created with my husband, and each one–for all of its differences–is a place that’s peaceful, filled with light, that fosters creativity, and is comfortable for inviting others in, whether it’s to share a meal or conversation. I’ve joked that I could live under a bridge in a cardboard box with him and feel that it was home, and that’s probably true.
When did you start travelling?
I think I’ve always been travelling! I’m adopted, so I traveled from the hospital, to a foster family, and then to my adoptive family. My parents were avid travelers, especially to national parks, and though I spent much of my younger years wondering why we never went to Myrtle Beach like everyone else’s family during the summer, I will be infinitely grateful that our vacations were to places like Yellowstone, Shenandoah, the Everglades, the Keys, and Chaco Canyon. I learned a lot from my parents about living off the grid, being low impact, and being self-sufficient. I learned how to handle snakes, how to bear proof food, and how to pack efficiently. I also learned not to stuff an elk rack into the trunk of a car and speed through the national park… but that’s another story.
My first international travel experience was an unexpected gift. Although I went to a rural school in a town where I doubt most people had much travel experience at all, I was exceptionally fortunate that the mother of the French teacher at my high school had endowed three scholarships–one for a student of French, one for a student of German, and one for a student of Spanish–and I won the Spanish scholarship when I was 15. The scholarship permitted the winner to study the language in any country it was spoken, and I chose Costa Rica. Although my parents confessed years later that they wanted to stand in front of the airplane and wave it to a stop as it pulled away from the tiny terminal at the Greenville Spartanburg airport, they didn’t, and I spent a summer immersed in language and culture. I’d organize weekend trips for myself to far-flung places by way of chicken bus that crawled through tortuous mountain roads and crossed over chain link fences repurposed to serve as bridges. Two years later, I won another scholarship, this time from the educational tourism company, EF, and I traveled as South Carolina’s representative to England, France, and Switzerland along with a student from each of the other 49 states and from each of Canada’s provinces.
How does travel inspire you as a writer?
Cuban street sceneNo matter where I am, I’m endlessly interested in other people’s stories. I’m interested in how people portray themselves, how they create (or frustrate) community, what they enjoy, what they push away, what they fear, how they love. I’m interested in how people speak, especially, and how they construct narratives. I’m a reverent observer of the quotidian. People’s daily lives, their mundane activities, absolutely fascinate me. I’m especially interested by what I refer to as micro-narratives– stories of people and places and experiences that are typically overlooked. When I travel, I think that my consciousness of all of these things is heightened, and I capture fragments that I write in a notebook and build upon later. Those fragments generally find their place within some much larger context that wasn’t even part of my own awareness or intention at the time I captured it or even when I sat down to start writing.
You declared a while ago that you’re against using guide books. And yet, books are obviously quite important to you. What are some books which have inspired your love for travel?
Books are extremely important to me, and you’ll never catch me without one in my hand or in my bag, no matter where I am. I don’t think, though, that books inspire my love for travel or even my desire to go a specific place, as much as they inspire me to be attentive to place… no matter where I am. For instance, I’ve just finished reading Circling Home, by John Lane, about which/whom I’m writing an article. In this book, Lane writes about my hometown in a way that I found utterly compelling even though I don’t share the affection for it that he does. Yet I profoundly respect his ability to be attentive to place and to be able to make a place that might not interest most people relevant to any audience.
Books also help me reaffirm my love for a place. Right now, for instance, I’m surrounded by a stack of books about New York and Havana, and because I know both of these places well, the writers’ descriptions either evoke a spark of recognition and a swell of memory, or they cause me to stop and measure their enthusiasm against my own experience. I’ve been reading Havana: Autobiography of a City, for example, and throughout the preface I was struck by the author’s descriptions of the city, which in many ways is a place that is exceptionally difficult to put into words. The author, Alfredo Jose Estrada, was able to give voice to something that I hadn’t yet arrived at, but which I felt deeply and recognized immediately.
Books about a place I haven’t been rarely move or inspire me, though there are some exceptions. I suppose I’m a visual and experiential learner– I need to be in a place and live in it to understand it. When I read, place remains an abstraction; when I’m in or have been in a place and read about it, I can understand and agree with or contest the author’s impressions.
You mention on your Matador profile that you feel most immersed in a foreign culture when you have lived there for a while and can speak the language. Do you think it’s possible to get a true experience of another culture without spending an extended period there and learning the language?
I think it’s possible to get glimpses of another culture without spending an extended period of time there and learning the language, but I don’t think it’s possible to get a “true experience” of that culture. Even when I do live in a place and speak the language, I’m always conscious of the fact that I’m not of that place and I try to be cognizant of the implications–positive and otherwise–of that position. For instance, I lived in Puerto Rico for almost two and a half years, and I spoke Spanish; I was fully immersed in the culture to the greatest extent that someone not born there could be. At the same time, though, I question what a true experience might be… there are lots of true experiences, I think; I had just one of them. Living in Old San Juan was quite different, I expect, than living on Vieques or living on the west side of the island or in its interior. Also, throughout the period I lived there, I was always conscious of being an outsider. When I’m in Cuba, I’m conscious of the fact that while I get a taste (no pun intended) of what it’s like to eat only one meal a day, living like that for an extended period would be a totally different experience. Based solely on physical attributes, I don’t look like I fit into any of the cultures I frequent or in which I live, so there’s often a period (in some cases, quite long) in which I’m treated differently than would be the case if I were a true cultural insider.
What advice do you have for travellers who would like to immerse themselves in a foreign culture - but who are not able to live there for a longer period of time?
Be curious. Ask questions and listen to other people’s stories. Jump in.
For any travel experience, I think it’s critical to learn some local history. The histories of place have a profound impact, shaping what you’ll see and experience right now. History doesn’t have to be boring. Watch some documentaries. Read conflicting views. Listen to some music. View history as more than a textbook– it’s art, it’s religion, it’s dramatic conflicts and moments of surprising collaboration. It’s also how people portray themselves through their creative productions (films, novels, poems, etc.) Be curious. Ask questions and listen to other people’s stories. Jump in.
If you’re not able to live in a foreign culture for an extended period of time, here are some tips:
1. Try to stay with or among the locals. It’s pretty obvious that staying with a local family or in a smaller, independently run lodging (such as casa particulares in Cuba or pensiones in other parts of Latin America) will get you in closer contact with a true experience; it’s also typically cheaper. (You could also home swap, which is a fantastic way to learn how locals live.)
2. Look for locals. What restaurants, markets, and entertainment spots are frequented by locals rather than tourists? That’s the path you want to take.
3. Remember who you are. Nothing strikes a false note faster and actually inhibits the effort to get immersed than trying to be someone you’re not. Authenticity is always the way to go.
4. Strike up conversation. Use casual contacts as a way to get some insight into local culture and politics and to understand what’s important to locals. I can’t tell you how many conversations I’ve had about politics with taxi drivers in Mexico City, but I can tell you that I’ve understood a lot more about how some Mexicans view the US by talking about George Bush.
5. Walk around. Some of the experiences that got me immersed most quickly in Mexico City (and which also generated some great writing leads) were events I stumbled upon when I was just out for a walk as opposed to hibernating inside. Walking around, I’ve encountered lots of protests, an Independence Day celebration, and a major Frida Kahlo retrospective that was so popular that lines stretched outside the main gallery of the Palacio de Bellas Artes. When you walk around AND strike up conversation, you can get pretty immersed in a matter of minutes. For more on this subject, keep your eyes on The Travelers Notebook for an upcoming piece I’ve written, “Top Ten Tips for Living Like a Local,” which should be posted later this month.
Subscribe to TravelBlogs
Posted by Eric Daams on January 8th, 2008 in Interviews.
