Where cultures meet...

...can simply be in the hallway of a student dorm. Huntington describes a clash of civilizations. Yes: we are a melting pot of different characters, nations and cultures gathered in a small space, that being the world or a campus dormitory. But how different is the hallway of an international study program in Japan from the world in general?
Probably, the division is greater than one should wish for. The international students attending Asian Pacific Studies at Kansai Gaidai, Japan, are not like their fellow nationals. These are students, individuals, either interested in learning to know another culture, get to know people from around the world, or just wishing to try something new, regardless of culture and place. Does this change the fact that we are different? That our cultural preferences, or language, our norms and values might differ or conflict? No. But we are still not fighting, or 'clashing'.

Internationalization is a big and illusive term. Much like globalization, a trendy word trying to explain and/or conceal current issues in the world that arguably ties us together.
Nonetheless, what can be more international than a Mexican using his knowledge of the Norwegian language? A Russian, English and American talking about how to write Japanese, A Norwegian being on an exchange program in Japan, from a University in London, to the Swedish student doing the same exchange program, but from a Norwegian institution? Or the Japanese local students volunteering to teach international students how to write and speak Japanese, in return of us speaking English, (which is the working language) to them.
It does not stop there. You have a mixture of Mexicans, Colombians, and other Spanish speaking (to some extent Latin-speaking) countries that switch to English to accommodate that one person not understanding properly.
When a Mexican, Norwegian, Kenyan and Moroccan stand in a hallway talking about how much they all like Moroccan folk-music, and how they arrange to prepare Italian dinner with Japanese ingredients the following day, it is fun to investigate what actually separates these different cultures, and if it really is that difficult for different cultures to live together in peace, or at least side by side understanding and accepting existing differences.
Strangely enough, is it perhaps people within the same state that conflict more, than the people from different, meeting people that appeal to them, not because of shared cultural identity, but shared personal interests.

The value of an experience abroad is immense, and for me the most important is that is forces me to open my eyes and look above and beyond the Norwegian pine trees, fjords and mountains. This came clear to me when standing in the outbound check-in counter at Heathrow on my way to Osaka. She asks me where I am going. Osaka, I answer. For how long? Five months. The sweet woman in the counter smiles and say's friendly: "Is that where you are from?"
I do a quick evaluation of my self: 183 cm tall, blond...white. Somewhat tilted eyes... No, I have never been Japanese, and I doubt that I will become Japanese during the next 5 awaiting months. I smile back: "I am going to study there." Her eyes widens and she asks: "Do you like it?" I answer wiht the only thing I know how to, the truth: "I wouldn't know, I have never been there." Am I crazy? No. I had never been in London before moving there either.

Accross the pond - and beyond.

Crossing the North Sea from Norway to London was easy. Two hours by plane; you barely have the time to sit down. Crossing over from the North Sea to the Pacific Ocean was a joy ride - London-Frankfurt-Osaka; 14,5 hours+ gives you time to relax, and reflect. Regret is far away.
What then, is scary about leaving the familiar, and travel to unknown places?

For me, the terror starts with leaving London. I am not talking about saying goodbye to friends and classmates. That is a natural part of departing. The struggle of leaving is the hassle of actually getting from your apartment to the airport. Closed tube-lines is one thing, staircases is another. It never seizes to amaze me how a major city like London is so horribly constructed for travelers. One can wonder whether it is an attempt to restrain the people within the island from escaping the grey and misty weather, or if it is an attempt to cripple the tourists coming in so that they will be unable to leave. Certainly, the tube is not meant for passengers with large bags or suitcases. But that's okay, because they know how to avoid having them on.
Three sets of stairs, approximately 60-80 steps from the tube-station tracks to the tracks belonging to the national rail service.

I have managed to get from East Acton, rolling over wet bricks and bumpy, overfilled water puddles; fought my way through ticket barriers and scary intersections; up the stairs to the tube-platform, and on the tube. I am now at Ealing Broadway - Connecting train to Heathrow. Thirty steps up...roll two meters...five steps up....roll two meters...five steps down....roll...thirty steps down.
It pisses me off. I mean: Come on; its year 2009, give me a lift, an escalator or something!
And that is exactly what gives me the force to wrestle my 30 kilo suitcase up, and then down again. It is true what they say:
Don't travle with a suitcase you can't carry your self.
The chance that someone will help you carry it in London is small - but can we blame them? Why should someone else break their bones because of my 30 kilo luggage?