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Challenges in cross cultural communication
Cross cultural communication introduction conclusion
Challenges in cross cultural communication
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There has been no shortage of love and loving people in my 16 years of life. Although being a relatively typical American teenager, my friends and teammates occupy most of my time and affection, the best and most real emotion I've experienced has been with members of my family. My family has provided to me the chance to experience the world outside the city limits of Kingsburg, California. I have had the opportunity to travel to Ecuador on a missions trip with my church. In anticipation of the trip I was excited about venturing to a new country but at the same time somewhat nervous to communicate with people I didn't know.
While in Ecuador we traveled to many cities and villages. One of those places was a village called Gaulsaqui. It was
Every day I see my family and friends. Whether it’s at home, school, or at an event I always expect them to be there. I can never picture a time when they haven’t been there, so I never think “what if they aren’t there”. I have never realized how blessed I am to have my family and friends still here with me. It seems as though I have underappreciated their existence. After reading Into Thin Air, I viewed my family and friends in a whole new perspective and I learned that I should appreciate them for what they are worth; you never know when they can be taken away from you.
Most people call this Jesuit church at Quito Ecuador as ‘La Compania’. The church construction began in 1605 and completed one hundred sixty years later, in 1765.
Perea, Natalia Sobrevilla. (Revised 2011). The Caudillo of the Andes: Andres de Santa Cruz. New York: Cambridge University Press.
As my father and I finally fit the statue of the little Virgin Mary in the back of the car, it was time to get on the road. I could already taste the guavas from my great grandfather’s ranch. Feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. The smell of my aunt’s cooking. Hearing the excitement of my great grandmother’s voice. I wanted to be there already, be in the beautiful country of Mexico. My thoughts wandered as we left my house. How much welcome, love, and the sadness of leaving was going to happen. It was too soon to find out.
If someone was to ask me two years ago what I wanted to be I would have greeted them with silence. Before I was a very anti-social person and I didn’t really like speaking much in front of a public, audience, or even my small group of friends. I was the type of girl who preferred staying home in the weekends and watch Netflix instead of going out. But everything changed when I went on a missionary trip with my church to Mexicali. The church I attend has a group of volunteers who go every 2-3 months on the weekends to Mexicali. In these trips we distribute clothes, food, essentials, toys, and candies for all the kids and people in Mexico that live in poverty. Many people who live there live in harsh conditions and are struggling to provide a home for their families. My first trip was a life changing experience because it changed the person who I was. I became an active and outgoing person. I became to appreciate and value the possessions I have at home. Every time I see the kids at Mexicali content when they receive a pair of shoes or a piece sandwich it makes me pleased of myself because I’m able to help them with what I can. Throughout these series of trips I discover my passion and how I have a soft spot for kids. Since Mexicali and where I live have a very large driving distance and I can’t go every day I also volunteer to help kids and adults around my community also. I have help
I spent every spring and summer in middle school doing mission work and community service. I loved the opportunity that it gave me to build relationships and share my beliefs with people I didn’t know. Little did I know that this would pave the way for a life-changing experience that I would encounter one day. Each spring my church would host a missionary event called “The Ignite Project.” I felt an urge to join the group, recognizing that it was a calling to profess my faith in Jesus. These mission trips helped me to go out
• Song of the Gavilan talks about Rio Gavilan and describes the “music” of the birds and other local nature that can only be heard by long-time inhabitants,
I would like to travel Nicaragua to spend time with my Family and go visit the beach and beautiful and wonderful different places, I would like to eat food from my country, is very delicious and different kinds.
Cayo, Jorge Riveros. "A Taste Of Lima." National Geographic Traveler 23.5 (2006): 33. Academic Search Complete. Web. 4 Mar. 2014.
I have always considered myself a very promising student. I have worked extremely hard and received high grades. I have a close knit group of friends and my teachers and I have mutual respect for each other .Although I would consider myself at this present stage ‘fulfilled’ something was missing. I realized it wasn’t a materialistic aspect of my life. Through a tragic incident I finally discovered what fit perfectly in that vacancy. The consecutive hospitalizations of my grandparents evoked great pain and sorrow. However, out of the scorching intensity of this tragedy I was warmed and comforted by realizing what I was devoid of: community service.
Our hard times were finally over. When you return to the U.S. after being deported, you’re supposed to go into an office to get your file which contains various letters from lawyers and other important information. My mother and I were looking for the office, quickly turning our heads left and right and right to left, because we couldn’t wait for this nightmare to be completely over. As we were about to head in, an officer denied my entrance. Apparently, our endless plane ride wasn’t enough and we had to wait three hours more listening to the intercom repeating flight numbers and different destinations and arrivals. However, after seeing the look on my mother’s face- which expressed happiness, consolation, and an incredible amount of pride-
Ever look at pictures of a country and think it’s the most beautiful country? Well, that’s what I thought when my parents showed me or talked about their birth country, Honduras. Seeing pictures of where they had lived and hearing stories; I always thought, “WOW! This place looks amazing!” I wanted to go to see it for myself. Thinking that it would still be the way my parents had illustrated it, boy I was in for a major reality check and so were my parents. Honduras is a poverty-stricken and perilous country, just the way people live, the way people automatically think you’re rich, and with its cons, I still think it’s a good place.
I can remember leaving my home in Haiti with only my favorite stuffed bunny in hand as we drove to the airport. As I sat next to my sister I could see the plane leaving the only place I’ve ever known, take off across the Caribbean Sea. My dad brought his family to the United States to give us a better chance at succeeding in life. My parents have always instilled that we could not take this opportunity for granted and that no one in this country would give you handouts. As I grew up, I’ve seen my parents struggle and face many hardships that I work hard to not have to deal with in the future.
Growing up in a developing country has really open up my mind about setting up for a better future. My home in El Salvador wasn't the most lavishness, but it's also not the worst. I grew up in a house with two levels; three bedrooms on the top floor, one on the bottom, a garage and laundry room at the lower level, and a small sale shop at the front of the house. Growing up in this home has been a meaningful place for me. Its where I found my sense of place.
At first, I believed I wouldn’t be able to go to Mexico to teach a vacation bible school. An act of God created a last-minute opening and began an opportunity that I believe has shaped me most. The first year of the mission trip taught me the life changing importance of stepping out of my comfort zone. My freshman year I connected with people from all over the country and a small region of Mexico. This amazing opportunity also created memories and perspectives that will never fade. A year passed, and this time a whole new person faced this mission trip with excitement and pride. I, Morgan Stockman, am blessed with the opportunity of going from eastern Iowa to Mexico, bringing love and guidance towards God to small children without speaking