On Being an Expatriate

"A person temporarily or permanently residing in a country and culture other than that of the person's upbringing." (Wikipedia)  


Adventure.  Excitement.  Internal Chaos.  Everything is different, yet I constantly am finding moments or situations that are the same.  I miss everything about my home country and I love everything about my new country.  It's confusing, weird, exciting, tear filled, humor filled and absolute chaos some days.

I have heard it explained, “Living in a foreign culture is like playing a game you’ve never played before and for which the rules haven’t been explained very well. The challenge is to enjoy the game without missing too many plays, while learning the rules and developing the skills as you go along.” (L. Robert Kohls) Man, that is how it feels some days.  Little things in this culture such as people, especially most women, don't complain.  Did you catch that?  They don't complain.  I have never heard a women go on and on about her husband leaving his socks out, not taking out the trash or something more real and vulnerable in her marriage.  I rarely if ever hear a women complain about her job.  If she does complain in a slight way it is quickly followed up with an apology for expressing emotion.  Seriously?  I have got to have that rub off on me!  It's refreshing.  It's inspiring.  And to be quite frank, some days it's infuriating.  It's not infuriating because it's appropriate or even good to complain, but wow it feels good to just be real.  As well, there is something connecting about sharing your real life with someone and them sharing back their real life stuff. 

New rules.  New game.  No description of the game or rules. You find out you are "buzzed" or "fouled" when an awkward silence settles in a conversation.  An uncomfortable look or comment occurs.  A blank stare hits you right between the eyes.  It is then you realize you were just "buzzed" in the game of life as played by the new country you are residing.

Here is the beauty of this:  you grow, you develop, you change...into a better person.  The catch:  sometimes on the way to a better person you (when I say you I clearly mean ME!) look like a complaining, whining baby and you are not a fun person to be around, draining the life out of anything that is semi good because you are comparing it with what used to be.  It has taken me over three years to settle in here and heaven knows I don't have it down.  Here is what I do have down.  I live here. It's reality.  It took me thirty six excruciating months to process all the change and upheaval, but now I can say without cringing inside, I live in New Zealand.  Christmas is warm (well...depending on what city you live, my current city was coming in at a cold frosty 50 degrees F as I held my Starbucks cup and wandered the mall for Christmas presents).  Traditions are different.  People are not always what I expect.  Americans have A LOT of stereotypes to overcome in a new culture.  I will stumble upon a "rule of the game" I didn't get right, but then I will either make a better friend through it or have a great story!  

Oh so many stories here.  Going into the doctor for a female check and "disrobing" because we do that in America and quickly feeling weird and asking the doctor through a curtain if I need to disrobe.  She awkwardly responds, "Well, no, but it is whatever you are comfortable with.  I hear other cultures have to disrobe completely and put on a gown."  Frantic chaos ensues as I quietly try and put my clothes back on without being obvious while laughing at "other" cultures.  Oh the rules I don't know...

Some days I write my own rules.  Some days I adhere to the new rules I know.  And some days, unfortunately, I break a cardinal rule of the culture.  Some times it is funny but other times it can be hurtful.  I can bring up a taboo subject or confront an issue in a culture that does not confront and finds it disrespectful.  While that makes me crazy, I have a choice to respect their rule or take the proverbial board game and throw it in the air and stomp out of the room.  I just don't want to be that person or have to go back and clean up that huge mess that will inevitably follow.  

Being an expatriate.  It's an incredible privilege that few in life really get to experience.  It can be mind numbing, frightening, tear filled and hard, but it can also open up a part of your soul you never knew existed.

On Change

I am not an expert.  I am not an author.  I don't have all the answers.  In fact most days I don't seem to have any answers.  But this I do have:  a story.  A crazy, ridiculous, emotional roller coaster of a story, but it's my story nonetheless. I have had four years of perpetual change.  From getting married, moving countries, having a child, and having a husband change careers and go back to school...Medical School and every thing in between, and those are just the highlights.  I am living in an ocean of chaos.  

I haven't handled much with grace or dignity, but I am here.  I am able to share my story so far and want to invite you into my story from this point forward.  It won't be pretty.  It will be emotional.  It might make you laugh.  It will make you cry.  It will remind you that you aren't alone.  I am hoping through my childlike tantrums, awkward moments, plenty of cultural clashes and numerous trips to Starbucks you can find some identity, laughter and hope.

A couple of years ago I had hot tears streaming down my face, panic beginning to set in my heart, my mind racing to the point I couldn't make sense of words or thoughts, and my breathing was at an irregular and incredibly rapid pace.  The girl behind the counter at Starbucks told me she was leaving New Zealand, where my new husband and new baby and I live.  Seriously?  Picture a loud American in the middle of a beach town in New Zealand panicking while waiting for a Soy Chai Latte.  Yep, that was me?  I know, major tragedy, isn't it?  I can barely remember her name now, but I can absolutely remember that day in Starbucks when the world seemed like it was spinning and slightly falling apart.  Walking home that afternoon with my 4 month old crying, me not him, I realized a very important truth:  I was a mess.  I'm not sure if that was the technical term, but I was an utter mess.  

I knew all the right answers:   The only constant in life is change.  Change is good.  Change is an opportunity.  What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  Accepting change is the first step to regaining peace.  Why did none of these make sense?  Or more accurately why did I not give a flying leap about any of those great quotes?  I think the answer was in two things:  my personality and my reality.  I am American, over dramatic (even for an American), emotional, sensitive, lover of control and cherish a  good story, aka love drama.  And after so much change in my life and living in a culture so different than my own, my body and mind and emotions were just tired of trying.  

Do I agree with all those great quotes listed above?  Absolutely.  Does that help me to believe them and not wallow in my change that seems never ending and incredibly torturous?  Nope.  I didn't and still don't have any clinical answers in how to get through mass amounts of change.  There is endless help on the internet from dealing with culture shock and the grief that comes with change.  It all sounded so good to me, but I was stuck.  I was wallowing in the change.  This "silver lining gal" couldn't seem to find any silver in the black clouds that were my life.  I complained endlessly about the psyche of a New Zealander, the price of everything, the climate, the reverse seasons living in the southern hemisphere, the lack of days off in winter (yes I did complain about even that and still do to be frank), the ridiculous way houses are made with no warmth, drying clothes on a clothes line instead of the dryer (c'mon who wants crunchy clothes and towels??!?), the lack of consumerism,  the reserved almost non excitement about holidays, and the way convenience was not a value.  Really, who wants to bake a cake from scratch when you can get a scrumptious cake from a box for a $1.50 and just add eggs, oil and water in just a few short minutes?  "Not me!" I cried from pious soap box.

I would love to tell you I had this amazing breakthrough and started counting my blessings and ta da! All was good.  It wasn't.  It isn't. I still complain way more than is helpful and not surprisingly I am still coping or shall we say not coping most days with change.  All the change that I have experienced has been brutal.  Change is hard.  Change is real.  All the "right" process haven't helped me.  I still shake my head (while crying and throwing a tantrum that can rival my 2 year old) at how hard the change seems to be still.

Whether your change is living in a new country, starting a new phase of life or just simply getting a new server at your favorite restaurant change can affect you in crazy ways.  If you are in the midst of change be encouraged.

Here's how I would suggest you not handle change:

• Don't feel guilty.  It is what it is.  You are who you are.  
• Don't beat yourself up.  Change is hard.  
• Don't isolate yourself.  You might feel crazy and a mess, but you are still amazingly you, just with a lot of chaos swirling in and around you.
• Don't ride every wave of emotion that comes your way.  Change is like the ocean.  The waves never stop coming and most of the time they pummel you to an out of control barely breathing state, but hey at least you are at the beach, right?
• Don't forget to laugh!!  I watch funny TV shows and read things just to make myself laugh…the card aisle at any card store can be a slice of humor in a bleak day!

Feelings are much like waves, we can't stop them from coming but we can choose which one to surf.
    -Jonatan Mårtensson