By: Hawi Bussa
It was in my interpersonal communication class that I had an eye-opening moment about how differently I perceive personal space. My instructor, Dr. Deepika, was keenly observing the class dynamics, and she noticed something about me that I hadn’t realized myself. While my Ethiopian classmates gathered around my desk for an assignment discussion, I instinctively leaned back, creating a noticeable gap between me and the group. Dr. Deepika smirked as she watched this, and later, at the end of the class, she approached me with a thoughtful comment.
“You know,” she said with a smile, “I observed that your instinctive reaction to personal space is quite different from the others here. It’s interesting how space itself can shape communication.”
Her words stuck with me, especially as someone who grew up in America and now lives in Ethiopia. In the U.S., personal space is more than just a comfort; it’s a sign of respect. There’s an unspoken rule that we all have a bubble, an invisible boundary that is rarely crossed unless permission is given. It’s a part of what makes us feel in control of our interactions—whether in a conversation, a queue, or on public transportation.
In Ethiopia, however, personal space seems to have a different meaning. People stand closer, touch more, and often sit together without hesitation. Proximity here is a symbol of warmth, connection, and shared experience. For me, this took some adjusting. At first, I found myself feeling a little overwhelmed by the closeness, flinching when someone stood too near or leaned in too much.
But over time, I started to see how this closeness isn’t about discomfort. It’s about bonding, forming deeper connections with those around you. The intimacy that comes with physical proximity here in Ethiopia creates an environment where relationships feel genuine and grounded in trust.
Of course, navigating the balance between these two perceptions of personal space isn’t always easy. In some situations, I still find myself leaning back instinctively, feeling that familiar American space bubble, but I’m learning to appreciate the Ethiopian warmth and how it fosters a sense of community.
Living between two worlds, I have come to understand that personal space is more than just a physical boundary—it’s a reflection of how we relate to one another. It’s an ongoing journey of learning, adjusting, and connecting on a deeper level.
So, the next time you find yourself instinctively backing away or leaning in, take a moment to consider: How does the space around you shape the way you connect with those around you?