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Out of Context
Though I’m not the most worldly or experienced of human beings, I feel comfortable saying that people pick up lots of random knowledge over the course of their lives. And while this is preferable to picking up no knowledge whatsoever, I must ask—what the hell are we supposed to do with this stuff? And why do I know this nonsense to begin with?
Some random examples (your list will probably differ): an assortment of Greek myths, the names of other assorted dieties, how to recite the English alphabet backwards, the names of the English monarchs between the War of Roses and the English Civil War (in chronological order—and I’m hardly British), the general order of dishes in a seven course meal, how to tune a violin, the Dewey decimal system, and why roses are traditionally planted in vineyards.
Beyond I get flamed, let me say here that I know ”random” is a very subjective word that depends entirely on context; if you’re a scholar of Elizabethan history, it’s important to know Elizabeth’s heir was the only descendant of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scotland and France (and one-time claimant to the English throne). If you’re the lead violinist in a chamber music quartet, knowing how to tune your instrument is critical. As a student in a highly technical field, I’m not disputing the need for highly specialized jargon, much less knowledge.
But if we, as human beings, go through life collecting so much knowledge that makes sense only in context, what do you do when that context is suddenly removed? And, what do you do if that context is not a discipline but a place—a temporary place at that?
This is the question I’ve lately begun to ask myself. Because as I slowly find myself shedding the small details of my American life and picking up new ones, I am vividly aware that no matter how lovely, quirky, and sometimes painful—these things are, they won’t last forever. One day in late June, after all my papers have been written and all my clothes have been folded into my suitcase, those habits will again no longer apply. And while here, they are normal and every day parts of living, they will be still more useless knowledge.
Don’t get me wrong—however temporarily this knowledge will serve me, I intend to learn it and use it well; after all the trouble it took to get here, it would be stupid and tragic to not wander outside my American self and reflexes. I certainly will put as much effort into learning Australian quirks as I did in learning my way around the Dewey decimal system years ago. But, however rigorous my research, I’m also going to remember that all this information is context-specific, and should not become so deeply ingrained that it makes repatriation a nightmare.
As happy as I’ve been here, I’m not quite ready to call it home just yet.
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