Culture Shock

Can you imagine moving to a foreign land and instantly adapting to its culture with only a limited knowledge of the people, customs, or language? Impossible. For instance, in some countried it’s customary to kiss total strangers upon introduction—on the mouth. While in others, you don’t even shake hands, because it’s the hand that is used in lieu of toilet paper. Among countless other factors, proficient integration into a culture requires a complex understanding of its vocabulary. Speaking a new language is difficult enough without mastering the nuances such as context, tempo, tone, and inflection. Add to that the need to walk, dress, spit, sneeze, stand up straight, and scratch oneself in the appropriate time and meter, and the task of becoming a competent golfer may seem quite daunting. It might take years of stumbling—or just reading this book! The fact is, there’s a huge difference in application between many of the “official” terms of the game and the “real” ones. For example: Official: “Good heavens, Buffy! It appears that your ball in play, struck from the teeing ground with your 1-wood, has crossed the margin of the lateral water hazard, designated by the red stakes and lines, entitling you to five relief options, one of which is to measure two club lengths from that spot and drop there.” Although the verbiage here is totally correct, if you talk like this you’ll sound like an idiot. Try this instead: Real: “Honey, you snapped the big dog into the drink. Just drop up there where it went in.” Admittedly, this is less refined, but totally accurate and equally as acceptable. Without formal instructions, it seems to take between two and three years to learn a new language, and that’s when it’s used daily or is necessary for survival. Anyone with children can confirm that. But when the words are only used periodically, like every other weekend for the summer months, and when the nonverbal communication carries an elevated importance, the task of cultural assimilation can seem hopeless. I don’t remember learning to talk—but watching my daughters makes me appreciate the process. I do remember learning to speak the “language of golf,” and I’ve seen hundreds make the same transition, from goo-goo-gah-gah, to “whiffs,” and “dubs” to silver-tongued eloquence, “roped 2-irons,” and “holes-in-one.” Have faith, it can happen.