cultures of privacy

Friday night Chris and I went on a date in Phnom Penh.  After what may have been the most hilarious and longest bus ride we've had from our town to the capital city -- four hours for a normally 90 minute trip with a door that would not open and had riders climbing through the driver's window to get off at their stops along the way -- we were pretty hungry.

Chris was heading into Phnom Penh to prepare for a trip to northern province of Kratie where there are some freshwater dolphins, and I was in town for a weekend of relaxation and then some work on Monday.  To satiate our hunger without spending too much money (a hazard of time in the capital) we headed to one of our favorite places, simply called Chinese Noodle.  We split a delicious plate of homemade noodles with egg and beef, and each had our own plate of steamed dumplings for less than $5.  Yum!

Afterward, we decided to trek to our favorite movie theater to catch a movie that was released ages ago in America- Ted.  My favorite part about going to the movie theater outside of the United States is getting to choose your seats -- we looked at the screen and saw that it was pretty much an empty theater.  We selected two seats in the middle of row, at least three rows from the other 4 patrons that had purchased tickets at that point.

And then we sat down in the theater.  Slowly, people trickled in.  The first group of 4 behind us, as we'd seen.  The next 2? Directly next to us.  Not a seat away- no, directly next to us.  The next 4? Directly in front of us.  And the final 6 (a group of kids, no less), directly in front of them.

And I got irrationally frustrated.  It just boggled my mind that, upon viewing a seating screen that showed dozens of open seats, why a person would choose a seat directly adjacent to strangers.  Why?

I'm going to go ahead and make some statements about privacy and culture -- American culture and Khmer culture that is -- based on my limited fourteen months of living here and my extensive twenty-six years of living in America.

Don't be fooled. This gate isn't about privacy.

Statement 1: America and Cambodia have pretty much directly opposite cultures of privacy and personal space, especially in regards to strangers or casual acquaintances.

Substatement 1A: In America, we value privacy pretty highly.  There are regulations in place to ensure that people have privacy (if we disregard those Patriot Act things that eliminated some of that privacy...) and a big part of our culture involves honoring someone's privacy above convenience, comfort and even honesty.

For example, in America, before visiting someone at their home, a person usually arranges a meeting time a few days in advance, unless you are very close to the person and then limited unannounced drop-bys may be allowed.

In Cambodia, it's very common to simply stop by someone's house to chat without any prior indication.  Sometimes people do call us to let us know they want to visit, but more often someone calls us to tell us they are outside of our gate to come visit.

In America, the thought of squeezing four into a backseat of a car is doable in necessary circumstances but there is generally a lot of giggling, apologizing and clamoring to ensure everyone is comfortable and no one feels too crowded or overwhelmed.  We almost feel guilty when we have to take the only open seat in the doctor's office if it is directly next to another person.

In Cambodia, we regularly squeeze as many people as we can into spaces meant for far fewer bodies, without so much as a second thought.  People aren't rude, it's simply that the culture of privacy is such that there are no apologies given for asking you to move over a bit or someone resting their arm, leg, or bag on your lap given a lack of space.  My personal favorite, beyond the many vans we've ridden in chock full of 25+ bodies, was riding in a tuk tuk to visit our training host family and stopping along the way to pick up an elderly woman (a yay, or grandmother), and having her scootch me over closer to Chris to make room for her on the seat -- and ignore the completely open seat directly across from us, which remained empty for the duration of the twenty minute ride.

Many, many people in the back of a large cart attached to a tractor motor.

In America, a "personal bubble" is a common phrase we use, especially when given to telling stories about people who violate that bubble.  If someone moves too close to us during a discussion, or sits too close on a park bench, we have a cultural-born tendency to step backward or inch farther away.

In Cambodia, there is no "personal bubble."  It is completely commonplace to meet someone and three minutes later, stand with arms clasped or sit hips pressed together on a bench.  (Sidenote: this ONLY applies to people of the same sex.)  I cannot relate the number of times I engage in casual conversation with a woman and our discussion includes random arm petting, waist encircling, or leg squeezes.

In America, we discuss the need for alone time and privacy.  This is a fundamental aspect of how we relax, how we unwind, how we "are" ourselves.  So much of our culture is built upon the need to be alone.  How often have you heard that a person should travel alone to find themselves?  We talk about how siblings often reach a stoppage age for sharing a bed or a bedroom, and when this happens, bigger houses are found with more rooms for more privacy for these "aged-out" siblings.

In Cambodia, families often share one bed.  Siblings nearly always do, even as they get older.  Family life happens in the same room, and it is incredibly rare for family members to have their own bedrooms.

Substatement 1B: The relationship between privacy and directness are treated differently in American and Khmer culture.

In Cambodia, there is no privacy as it relates to certain personal information. Your salary? Fair game. Your age or weight? A common first question, as are follow up comments that relate to their surprise about those given attributes.  How much that new dress/car/pen cost? Feel free.

In America, asking someone's salary is a major gaffe, and pretty rude.  In some companies even it's forbidden to discuss your salary with your peers and fellow employees.  We typically only ask someone how much something cost if we're considering buying something similar or if they are a close friend and it is topically relevant, and we nearly always couch those questions with statements like "Do you mind if I ask..." or "Sorry to be so upfront but..."

I've discussed how so much of life in Cambodia takes place outside. I think this is a direct reflection of the culture of {lack of} privacy in my new home.  Everything and everyone is so open.  Just as we in America are used to having our personal bubbles, our hush-hush discussions about money, Cambodians are accustomed to sharing seats and discussing nearly everything.

Chris' take on my movie theater frustration is this: Cambodians are used to doing nearly everything in an atmosphere surrounded by people, often in close spaces.  Khmer people share beds with family members from birth to death, share taxis meant for five people with ten or more strangers, and share their home and food with anyone and everyone who would care to stop by, privacy gates be damned.

So me spending an entire weekend alone in Phnom Penh, sharing a hotel room with no one else? Probably completely insane to my Cambodian compatriots. Just as insane as everyone purposely choosing seats RIGHTNEXT to complete strangers in a nearly empty movie theater was to me.

Adjusting to the Cambodia's culture of privacy could prove to be a daily frustration if I let it (and it often was, those first few months living here.)  I've come to realize that what could be taken as an infuriating invasion of privacy is simply a different approach to personal space and issues, and an approach that in many ways is much friendlier and honest than the culture of which I am a part.