“Can we do a
cultural activity tonight?” my cousin asked. I was temporarily living in Berlin
for my sabbatical. He was in Berlin for a couple of days for work visiting from
Stuttgart. I was ready for his question, as I had proactively compiled a list
of possible activities, which included some movie options and comedy shows, for
that evening anticipating he might ask this question. After all, when it comes
to these matters, we are cut from the same cloth.
“None of these
are social hobbies.” was the reaction I got from a friend, I drifted apart from
over time, after she inquired my hobbies and I listed them. I don’t remember
the exact list, but knowing myself it was probably a subset of watching movies/series/stage-shows,
reading, writing, listening to music … She liked those things as well, but she
also liked playing board games, which require other human beings and which I am
ok to play if friends ask but won’t have a drive to play by default.
It is true that in
theory one doesn’t need another person to do any of my hobbies. Is that the
reason I am drawn to them? While this may be a contributing factor, as I value
my independence and am an introvert, I think the primary factor is the cloth.
My dad poured
his love of movies and music on me when I was a kid. Our main outdoors activity
was going to the movies, which I know is not really an outdoors activity. At
home, he culturally influenced (brainwashed?) me through what he chose to watch
on TV and the music he listened to with me. Later in life, I of course
developed my own taste in things, separately from him, and there is now mutual
cultural influencing.
I grew up in a
house full of books and was raised by a mom who always took the time to read
books, not only work-related ones and often multiple in parallel. When I was in
high school, she even read my Irvine Welsh
and ChuckPalahniuk books hoping they would help her understand me better as I was being
a difficult teenager (sorry mom!). So, we can say that mom and I have been influencing
each other when it comes to books.
Once, while
going through old stuff at home, I found a poem my mom wrote, way before she
had me, and was blown away by her ability to strike a tone that was both tender
and funny. After I moved abroad, I found another poem she wrote, this time about
being a mother, in my apartment. She has no recollection of writing it. I keep
it close to me.
One of my
uncles, the one we lost when I was 10, almost built a shrine for his books and
music records at home, and left his love of culture as his main inheritance to
all his nieces and nephews. His books and music records are scattered across
all our homes today as a part of our shrines.
I had literature
teachers who encouraged and challenged me in terms of writing despite it having
no impact in any of the multiple-choice high-school or university entrance
exams that become the mandatory focus of every teenager in Turkey forcing them
to separate from their love of art and sports.
Today, with all
my close friends and cousins, I can talk for hours about culture; the books we have
been reading, the music we have been listening to, the stuff we have been
watching … It is likely because of this that we are close and stay close even
if we live in different countries. These discussions of culture are often
entangled with real life experiences; a book, movie, song … may help explain an
experience or real-life experiences influence what type of stories one is drawn
to or how one interprets those stories.
These beg the
question: Are my hobbies really anti-social if they are entangled with
cross-personal influences and help me form stronger bonds with others even if
the hobby activity itself may be performed as a solo activity?
How many friends
would I have actually had during my BSc if I had never joined the cinema club?
What kind of
person would I have become if Illegitimate Daughter had never listened
to Tori Amos at our dorm room, insisted that I watch Gilmore Girls, or
introduced me to Elena Ferrante?
How many grim
moments during PhD would have stayed grim if Twin Sister and I hadn’t
quoted Turkish film moments to each other to snap out of the grimness? How many times
a book she gave me said a lot more than words exchanged with others?
What if I hadn’t
gone to see a play on one of the extra nights I spent in Copenhagen after my
interview for my current job? What if I hadn’t felt at home in Huset, the culture house where the play was? Would
I still have made my first friends in Denmark that night? Would I still have felt that sure about moving to Copenhagen?
What would my
life in Denmark have been like if I had never asked Sister in Movies if
she would be interested in watching two bad movies with me? What if she hadn’t answered
“yes” to that absurd question she received from someone she knew only through Danish
class?
I am a culture
vulture when it comes to movies, books, music, and stage shows, with an
interest in both the mainstream and counter- culture, as one doesn’t exist
without the other. I have an easier time socializing through such cultural activities
or talking about them. Most of my life, I thought I was anti-social because my culture
vulturing hobbies seemed like they were solitary activities, but thinking their
impact in my life more holistically, they never were.
I love you all,
my fellow culture vultures!!
P.S. I first
heard the term culture vulture thanks to the title of Moshe Kasher’s book
Subculture
Vulture. So, a shout out to him and his book!
No comments:
Post a Comment