After the Oahk Empire dissolved, Cene developed in much less unusual ways. Now culturally dominant but a distinct minority, we had to reevaluate what parts of the Cenemi way could no longer be held to. Having settled down under Oahk, we found that modern life had progressed to the point where traveling was expensive and no longer useful. We were left with large ownership stakes in some of the first mass transit companies to build continent-spanning networks, and a large surplus of yellows relative to the caste balance of other nations, but otherwise lived as any farmer country. That we now shared land and government with farmers, even if they were farmers who understood, respected, and in some ways emulated proper Cenemi tradition, made this transition easier.
There was concern that we would have to reduce yellow permissions sharply not long into our history. Fortunately, this was done slowly. We compensated by having an informal rite of passage of going abroad for a year or two to work somewhere less oversupplied for yellow work and hence better-paid; a practically-motivated wanderjahr.
Before we cut our yellow fraction too deeply came the computing revolution. Some have claimed that programming is a yellow job because of an international yellow conspiracy to lay claim to the new territory. I was not alive for it, but I can certainly tell you from historical experience that Cene proves that yellow coordination can be quite powerful; translators, by their nature, speak with their counterparts across the globe, and feel tighter bonds to people who share a caste but not a country than less cosmopolitan castes or even blues. In any case, it could not have come at a better time for Cene; as other countries ramped up yellow credits fiercely, we switched from a modest reduction to a modest increase. Our credits were more expensive than any other country’s yellow credits, and other than to Voa and a few other places using their permissions system it was nearly impossible for a yellow to swap out until recently, but as a nation we prospered. The wanderjahr continued, just to meet the enormous demand across the globe.
Which brings us to the modern day. Today, though we have our traditions and they have spread to most of the country by osmosis, we are much like other nations. A foreigner in Cene will not notice much different. There are a few ways we still display our heritage, however.
The mercantile and itinerant history of our culture leaves its mark in what we consider worth of emulation. Our blues are more finance-oriented than most, and it would be considered shameful for one to not speak at least three languages by their first spring, or five if they intend to work in politics or foreign affairs. Even our rural purple schools will have at least two foreign languages available to learn.
The wanderjahr spread across the more intellectual castes, and has stuck. We do not travel constantly as we once did, but anyone who can reasonably do it spends at least a couple seasons studying or working abroad. It’s rare for farming purples, of course, and for grays most professions find it impractical. Even there it’s common for dancers and of course the naval shipping industry, and I believe our military does significantly more long-term joint training than others. Oranges, greens, and blues manage it more easily, and yellows have of course kept it up. Personally, I spent three seasons in Voa and two in Ochero, writing legal translations.
Ultimately Cenemi has been the kernel of national identity, still the most important cultural, political, and in fact theological strand in a mixed country. Unlike Ochero and others like it, we have a shared identity to access, despite most of our population only dimly grasping where that identity came from. This is what has made Cene the great nation it is today.