'We live here with 4 Indian students, an Italian, an Australian, a Romanian, a Chinese, a Japanese, and, I think, a kind of Russian.' Australian master's student Miriam Hochwald sits on the campus bed in her sparsely decorated room and explains.
According to her there is no intensive contact with each other in the household. Some residents keep very much to themselves and are busy studying. 'Sometimes you spot someone who you think might be a new flatmate', Miriam says. 'But then it turns out to be a dinner guest or a friend.'
The evening meal in the kitchen is in fact the only time the residents meet on a regular basis. That then produces the battle for the kitchen, the fight for kitchen utensils and the stove. This breaks out after 6 pm. 'From six the Indians cook and after eight the Chinese start. The rest hobbles around that,' Miriam laughs.
At six pm Rajesh Ramaneti starts cooking. It is his turn in the Indian cooking group. On the menu no one-pan meal: attention is paid to the food. Tonight he is cooking Dutch wholemeal bread with spicy fried cabbage, rice with curry of yellow lentils and peas served with a yoghurt sauce. With a razor-sharp butcher's knife he reduces a head of white cabbage to small pieces. 'The Chinese brought this knife, and it is very useful when cooking. A cultural exchange,' he laughs.
The cooking groups have their origin in the different eating cultures. The Indian menu is vegetarian, which is irreconcilable with the Chinese, who love fatty pork. And the Italian flatmate has food sent from Italy. 'But that is only logical. If you go abroad, you take your own food,' Rajesh thinks. He fully understands the Dutch who stuff their caravans with food when they are going to France on holiday.
The differences in eating habits are a rewarding way to start a conversation. And it may yield something. 'You take a sniff from a pan and say that it smells nice,' Marian teaches. 'Then you can join them for dinner.' This social attitude also has its drawbacks. 'If I bake cookies, I have to take them to my room almost immediately, otherwise not one is left,' Marian quasi-complains.
If you live together with so many cultures some friction cannot be avoided. 'There was a Chinese who emptied his nose in the sink,' reveals Miriam, who has entered the kitchen in the meantime. 'Ikindly requested him to stop doing that.' But both Rajesh and Miriam have difficulty communicating with the conflict-avoiding East-Asians. 'They say 'yes, yes' but the next moment they seem to have forgotten already,' the Indian electrical engineer sighs. 'Sometimes I wonder whether they speak English at all. But they do watch tv-series in English.'
Around seven the first Chinese comes hesitantly into the kitchen. 'Hi, Luo Dun', he is greeted, 'how was work?'. The telematics engineer answers: 'Fine, thanks.' End of conversation. Quickly five Chinese friends follow, who start the preparation of their meal and Luo Dun is included in a Chinese conversation.
Despite the frictions Rajesh likes and learns from intercultural living. 'I have learned that the attitude towards life might differ from person to person, but that underneath human nature is the same.' For example, he was surprised by the similarities in family values with his Italian flatmate, who also lives with his parents and grandparents in one house. 'Because of those similarities I feel more at ease as a flatmate', the Indian says while trying to defrost yoghurt for the sauce.
Living together is adapting, Rajesh and Miriam agree on that. Some had different hygienic habits at first and the kitchen was a mess with leftovers and unwashed plates and pans. After complaining to Housing and copying a chores system from the neighbours upstairs that improved: nowadays everyone does their own dishes and there is a chores schedule. 'Every evening two residents clean the kitchen,' Miriam says happily. 'And, by cleaning together you at least get to meet your flatmates.'
