I am currently reading Vaclav & Lena by Haley Tanner. The first half of the book is the story of two ten-year-old Russian immigrants (Vaclav came here when he was four, and Lena came here as a baby, but was raised by her grandmother so she went into kindergarten speaking only Russian) living in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn in around 2003 (that’s a guess, they don’t provide actual dates). The second half of the book fast-forwards 7 years later to when Vaclav and Lena are 17. I have just started that bit.
A character I think is really interesting is Vaclav’s mother, Rasia. She did everything she could to get her son here so he could have a better life. Rasia is often bewildered, perplexed or frightened by American things. She finds Vaclav’s new skinny jeans weird and when Vaclav says he is going to Ozzie’s, she asks who this Ozzie person is and if they are a drug dealer. At first I just found this hysterical. Originally I thought it was simply because of how badly Rasia misinterpreted what Vaclav said. Then I started thinking about it more. Vaclav really just has a neurotic mother. This is something I can relate to. As I kept thinking about it, there are a lot of ways in which Vaclav’s mother isn’t so different from an American mom. She is hates Vaclav’s girlfriend, she is always really worried about him, she makes him do his homework every night, and ultimately, she really just wants what is best for him.
I think that often, we look at people who are from a culture that is different from ours as something foreign or alien. We see that they eat different food then we do or have different customs and we back away. We get so caught up in all the little details that are different, that we forget about the big picture. Even as cultures or mannerisms change, there are certain things that we all share. Our values may rank in importance differently but they are still all there. We are all ultimately human. We all care about people and want things and have hopes and dreams and fears. We spend so much time picking out all the little things that make us different from someone else, that I think we begin to forget about all of the things that make us the same, and those are the things that really matter.