By Victoria Ferreira

As he elbows his way to the mahogany bar at 18th Street Lounge, Toni shields his indigo collared shirt to avoid inadvertent spillage from the cocktail-toting glam-squad surrounding him. Although the shoal of runway-ready bodies obstructs his path, the swarm parts once Friday’s live band sounds its drums. Vodka-tonic in hand, Toni pinches a lemon over his flute glass, with the ice crackling upon contact with the juice. As he takes a sip and surveys the room, a smile emerges. He locks eyes on the chocolate-brown “G”-encrusted shoes of a fellow Vodka-drinker. Though his pupils spell love, Toni confesses that Gucci, the once reigning king of his own shoe collection, has since been dethroned.  

“My Ferragamos, Tods, and Dolce & Gabbanas are my new top three,” admits Toni Rinnevaara, a School of Foreign Service sophomore and Helsinki native.

At another Georgetown weekend party, Dan Capless, a Business School junior and hardcore Bostonian, taps a keg. “I wouldn’t be able to pick out a Dolce & Gabbana logo if I tried,” Capeless says. He hands filled Solo cups to friends at the Saturday-night Nevils soirée as they convert the kitchen into a beer pong war zone. I-pod speakers blast Lil Wayne jams, and the jeans and tee-clad brood collectively pumps its shoulders to the beat. The sticky floor attests to beer-spills resulting from exaggerated dance moves and gestures alike. With aerodynamic ping-pong balls flying corner to corner, before long, Capeless and his buds shout, “Refill!” Waves of students crash in, making sure to snag a Bud and bust a move before receding into the depths of N St. Georgetown’s cultural divide is irrefutable. With self-acclaimed lounge and Hugo Boss junkies like Rinnevaara and beer-pong champions such as Capeless roaming around the same campus, the polarization of the student mix emerges as a stark rift. A 2007 National Center for Education Statistics reports 7.8% of the 7,038 undergraduates, roughly 550 students, have crossed international borders to join the Hoya family. Yet, the student body often fails to reflect the unity of a family. Despite Georgetown’s pride in its multifaceted student population, marked cultural differences snap the social chain, with stereotypes casting the first anvil.          
                 

If Capeless were refereeing this cultural match-up, with Internationals in one corner and American students in the other, the bias would be brazen: “the pretentious, cliquish, club-going smokers outside of the library” are not exactly his cup of tea – or, more fittingly, his glass of Amstel. Baltimore native and Nursing School junior Caitlin Higginbothom concurs, saying Internationals use their culture, style, and affluence “to act like they have one up on you.”

Rinnevaara hits back by comparing the “horribly dressed, house-partying Americans” with the “well-cultured, style conscious” Internationals. British College junior Alexander Lewis-Oakes strikes the second punch by poking fun at what he considers the domestic mass uniform: “crocs, Rainbow sandals, and Georgetown paraphernalia.” 

Although unfair, these generalized visions provide the framework for uncovering what truly polarizes these students. Sociology Professor William Daddio says upbringing, laws, and geography are factors of social conditioning that either perpetuate cultural tension or serve as an unconscious uniting force. “The core of American traditions stem from very different social customs than the openness attributable to many other countries with regard to spending habits, sexuality, and drinking, for instance,” Daddio says.
Though this partially explains the “international student” stereotype, the antagonism burning the bridge to cultural cohesion merits more digging. The double insight offered by American students with International parents and by student city slickers from America’s cosmopolitan areas helps explain these distinct, yet co-existing worlds.   

Mexican-American College senior Sofia Lambert, for instance, claims that though she loves clubbing and dancing with her Hispanic and European girlfriends, she equally enjoys crashing house parties and barhopping with her all-American buddy, Andy Ferich. Yet, whenever she invites Ferich to go clubbing, he refuses; likewise, her girls reject invitations to hit local bars.

“The problems American students have with ‘clubbing’ are the cost and the elitist aura that surrounds it,” Lambert said. “Andy thinks he’d never stand a chance with my girlfriends. He swears they expect a guy to be rich, dress like a model, and speak at least three languages!”     

College junior and New York City native Blake Harperin agrees the “high-roller” status of International students and their propensity toward deluxe off-campus living, weekend New York getaways, and constant switching between native languages and English does not exactly wave the “friendly” flag. Nevertheless, Harperin believes foreign relations would improve if each group “didn’t alienate the other just because their respective customs seem weird or ridiculous on first glance.”

To overcome that alienation, groups like the European Club (made famous across the social board for its scrumptious wine and cheese fêtes) aim to “bring together Europeans, Americans, and anyone who has interest in European affairs.” Likewise, organizations such as the Iranian Society, the Japan Network, and the International Relations Club aim to “diversify thought on campus as well as heighten cultural sensitivity.”
But signs of heightened sensitivity and cross-cultural appreciation remain difficult to spot. Such lack of campus blending continually challenges the possibility of student cohesion.

As a prepster with a J. Crew sweater draped over her shoulders and a Georgetown cap eclipsing her auburn locks approaches the library, she is met by the smoke and stare of a languid hipster spitting French to another puffer. The European femme allows her eyes to glance askance at the nearing prep. As she totes her Vineyard Vines bag toward the entrance, the latter dismisses the scrutiny by rolling her eyes at the Lanvin booties and billowy dress framing the body before her. The smokers end the battle with a hazy sneer.    

“People don’t know how to handle the unfamiliar,” Harperin states as he witnesses the girl-on-girl duel.

“Instead of trying to bridge the gaps, they just let things get lost in translation.”