Nelly Lejter, Culture Clash (2): Strangers at Home

The New York Times, Time, or Mario Vargas Llosa are not the only ones sending negative messages about Venezuela these days. If one looks at the opinions of Venezuelans overseas about the current situation in Venezuela (http://politica.eud.com/informespecial/exterior/primera.html is a good example, if you have access to the Internet), one will find quite negative views about current developments in the nation. Why do so many Venezuelans overseas tend to hold such pessimistic views about what is going on in this land? Clearly, part of the reason lies on the fact that Venezuelans who live overseas—and who have access to the Internet—may constitute a highly selective group. Another reason that I want to highlight here is the culture clash to which we “natives” who venture into northern territories are surely predestined.

Venezuelans who live in the United States, Europe, or any other “First World” country for extended periods of time, to return home after our enlightening experience, will very likely fall into the hands of conspicuous dilemmas. Once we are back in this “mistake of history”, as the late José Ignacio Cabrujas called Venezuela in one of his plays, should we continue stopping at red lights, even if only to become targets of the scorn of our fellow natives? Should we attempt to follow the rules of daily life in more “civilized” societies, in the hope that some day others will learn from our behavior? Should we believe that “you can make a difference”, that principle of American culture? Are we condemned, in contrast, to give up our dreams of making a more orderly world of Venezuela and to fall into the dangerous trap of conformity or disillusionment?

At a more general level, the culture clash of living overseas can show many ramifications. Everyone knows, for instance, that racism is practically nonexistent in Venezuela—or is it? We Venezuelans tend to feel quite proud of our café con leche condition, implying that our mixed racial origin makes it impossible for racist intolerance to gain ground. In fact, we like to think of ourselves as a most tolerant society in every regard: not only as far as race is concerned, but also with regard to some sensitive issues such as sexism and homophobia.

Coming from this cultural frame, living in such a race and gender-conscious society as the United States may lead to two diverging reactions. One is to reinforce our initial views about racism or sexism. After all, Venezuelans don’t kill each other because of racist or supremacist claims. Venezuelan women are doing quite well, without the need of strident, racketing feminists who surely are all lesbians. A very different reaction is to acknowledge that Venezuela is indeed a racist and sexist society, with an added difficulty: here, there are virtually no traces of the legitimacy that race and gender issues have acquired in the United States.

These two highly contrasting reactions may lead, paradoxically, to the same result. In both cases, a conservative point of view may result, either in terms of exalting the virtues of our local ways, or in terms of condemning our society to a cultural underdevelopment that we will never be able to transcend.

Surely, there is a third option—there is always a third way. First of all, we must find ways to remember both the positive and negative things that we lived and learned. We cannot afford to lose momentum, to let ourselves drown in the seas of passivity and conformity—mixed today with utopian messianism—that so often plague Venezuelan attitudes and behavior. At the same time, we must find ways to take advantage of what we are. Venezuelan traits may often turn to our advantage. In sum, yes, we can make a difference, even if only in our little corners and perhaps within our fields of expertise. This is a very complex task, which often leads to frustration and ambiguity. But, hey—no one said it would be easy.