Trip to Motherland proves personally enlightening

Disoriented, I walked up the ramp from the plane, through
passport control, then customs. The air filled with cigarette
smoke; the corridor before me barely visible, a warm feeling
descended over me.

No other smell could possibly be more dear to my heart; no other
smell could possibly represent such a clear association with my
homeland.

One of the many UCLA students with foreign roots, I spent this
summer in Moscow, Russia, and learned much about the two lands and
myself.

Living in the U.S., we don’t tend to acknowledge our
foreign identities, yet we struggle to reconcile the often
different expectations associated with these identities. When it
came time to immerse myself in the culture of my parents, I
didn’t know what to expect.

One evening, I was on my way to visit ancient Arbat Street.

Sitting close to the double doors of the metro cable car, I
furiously tried to text-message someone before my batteries died.
We made a stop, people came in, and the operator announced the next
station just as the doors were about to close. In an instant,
someone grabbed my phone, jumped out of the car and blended into
the flow of bodies.

With no phone and sore feet (stepped on by an intoxicated
elderly gentleman and a buxom woman with two little dogs), I
finally had my destination in sight. As soon as I reached the
beginning of the long, cobble-stone street, it began to rain.
Exhausted yet determined, I decided it was a matter of principle to
walk to the end.

Looking around, I was surprised to see that the passersby
didn’t seem to notice the rain, walking at their own pace
into the hazy darkness.

I envisioned for a moment how UCLA students would react. On our
cell phones and looking at our watches, our lifestyles starkly
contrast with the calm people before me whose demeanors offered
more time for reflection and appreciation for their
surroundings.

But the street crowds were mostly made up of young people
““ high school and college-aged kids laughing like we often do
at inside jokes. When these groups happened to pass me, I found
myself feeling as though I was back in Southern California ““
the guys were dressed in baggy jeans, massive belts and trucker
hats or sported baby-pink shirts, without which no Abercrombie look
could be complete.

The only detail that set them apart was the hair: Mullets graced
the head of many men, revealing the hairstyle’s popularity on
the Eastern European fashion market.

Being Americans, we tend to think that other cultures are
infiltrated by mainstream American culture and consequently lose
their individuality. It is vital to realize that despite
globalization, every country retains its own identity.

Halfway through the street and past rows of George W. Bush
matryeshka dolls, I spotted a young man singing and playing the
guitar in the center of a large circle of listeners.

Before he started to play again, he told the audience that he
played to support himself, despite the fact that he graduated from
college as an economics major.

A few steps ahead stood a woman, modestly holding a sign that
read, “Diplomas. Any Major. Cheap.”

Being U.S. college students and attending a demanding school
such as UCLA ““ and putting so much effort into getting into
college and completing a degree ““ we expect to better
ourselves and land a decently stable job. However, many Russian
students don’t have that assurance with so much uncontrolled
corruption in their education system.

Once I left this city of smokers, I had the chance to breathe
again, taking in the contrasts. The new atmosphere and different
way of life broadened my perspective, giving me the opportunity to
take the best of both worlds and acknowledge their problems.

E-mail Oster at [email protected]. Send general comments
to [email protected].