Cultural Misunderstanding #567

To My Most Amiable Readers,

Here I thought I was being helpful. A servant. I was actually being very rude and inhospitable. Here, in Chile, at least.

The meal is drawing to a close. The guests are scooping the last bits of rice on to their forks, sipping the remainder of their drinks, nibbling on bread and mopping up their plates with it. There is the nice satisfied air of filled bellies, contented hearts, and meandering conversation. A relaxing time, a restful time.

Unless you're Irish-Norweigian-North American. Then you've probably skipped ahead to your next "hospitality" task. You mentally calculate about how many plates you can stack, what you'll put all the silverware, napkins, and bones into for easier kitchen-transport, whether or not to leave the cups on (and if you do, how to remove the soiled table cloth beneath it without causing a commotion), and you're probably already mentally cutting the cake and serving coffee. One sugar or two?

This is all fine and good thinking in about any home I've visited in the States or Canada in the entirety of my young life. The first one to start the plate-stacking, chicken-bone/napkin organizing was the honored one, the humble servant of all (an exalted position in our Judeo-Christian understanding). They took the burden of the work from the others, allowing them to happily sit and talk and digest. This was the heart of hospitality....work yourself crazy so your guests could contentedly enjoy a work-free evening of delights. And you know, I loved it. There's definitely joy in serving others.

But what if service means something different in your new culture?

After having our Chilean friends over for a father's day lunch together, the wife approached me in the kitchen as I was washing dishes (I had already done the chicken bone/napkin disposal). She's a good friend, probably my closest Chilean friend. She, in love, shared with me that I was making a cultural blunder. She explained that when you eat a meal together, you are to allow the plates, cups, bones...everything, to go untouched for at least an hour as you sit and talk at the table. It's allowing the "conversation of the table" to flow. It extends hospitality to the guests, invites them to stay and enjoy one another in peace. If you start gathering up everything right away, people feel unwelcome, as though you were pushing them out the door.

Oh. I had no idea. I actually thought these two years that the reason no one jumped up to clear was that no one wanted to do the dishes. I thought we were sitting in awkwardness, waiting for someone to "get things going". I shamefully thought that they were a bit "lazy". So, I'd take the initiative, ignoring the protests of the contented diners and start clearing the dishes and working up a froth of bubbles at the sink. I honestly didn't have a clue. My "service" was "rudeness" here. What they must have thought! Oh my head.

I'm so grateful to friends that have the courage to tell us when we're being idiots. I'm so glad for the grace that's been extended to me by many as I've learned and blundered my way through cultural adaptation. It humbles me to think of it. A good thing, that.

Your Most Devoted, Sarah