Nov 8, 2014 |
There have always been nomads but there are more now than ever.
Maybe you are one — those people who are going to live their entire lives 3-5 years at a time (give or take). By choice, calling or mandate you will encounter multiple, major transitions in your life. Military families, missionaries, international business people, career students, traveling teachers, medical professionals, jet setters, globe trotters and restless wanderers are all on the move and likely to stay that way until they can’t any longer.
It’s the opposite of the “where I come from” scenario. Where I come from deep roots are a core value. You don’t move unless your job says you have to. You plant yourself in the community and become a pillar of it. You stay at the same church for life (unless the Pastor makes you mad), your kids graduate high school with their Kindergarten class and you live in the same house until you can’t take care of it anymore.
It’s stability at it’s finest.
I love it. I’m thankful for the rock solid experiences of my childhood.
However.
I don’t think it is the ONLY way to live well. I have also been privileged to meet some wonderful people (I call them “The Movers”) who have lived the nomad life into their twilight — never planting themselves for more than a few years — and it has been rich and good.
It is different to be sure.
- They are not pillars of any one community but they have deeply impacted several.
- They don’t have a core group of long term local friends but they have a network that is global.
- The people around them are always changing but they understand community in a very real way.
- They will never get a town hall named after them but they have a huge impact on people who leave and have a profound impact somewhere else.
- They’ve never owned a house but they always know when they are home.
I have learned some priceless life lessons both from people who have never moved and some who have never stayed.
If you are a mover (of any flavor) – here are a few thoughts gleaned from those who have done it well.
1. Every brick counts
You’re never going to be the pillar and that’s ok. Your life is going to look more like a brick wall. Lot’s of smaller, individual blocks laid out one by one and all stuck together. What you want in the end is a solid wall.
Here’s the kicker – One mushy brick compromises the strength of the wall. Two or three even more so. Every brick counts.
So . . . even if you’re only in a location for 2 years you should work hard to make it solid. Build strong relationships. When they break do everything you can to make sure they get fixed. Add value to the people around you.
The two biggest lies that transient people believe are, “I don’t have time to make friends” and “this will all be better when I leave.” You do and it won’t.
Believing these makes for a really mushy brick . . . and every brick counts.
2. Think Trajectory
Steven Covey said it well. “Begin with the end in mind.”
If you’re 30 think about life when you’re 75. What do you want 75 year old you to be proud of? Where will they have gone? What will they have done? What will they be telling their grandkids about?
Now pull that back into modern day you’s decision making process. Just thinking about the end isn’t going to make it happen. You’ve got to make decisions all along the way that lead to that place. If 75 year old you speaks fluent Swahili then guess what. You need to buckle down and get to work.
3. Invest aggressively
Conservative investors keep the risk low because their timeline is long. They invest when it’s a sure thing with a pretty solid hope for something good in the distant future. Aggressive investors can’t wait that long. They identify something that seems like a good opportunity and they go for it. They risk loss. They risk a set back. They risk embarrassment but they do it all with the keen understanding that if they don’t move now, they’ll miss it.
You are investing in relationships – if you’re a mover you don’t have the luxury of 30 years before you have a meaningful conversation. Don’t be afraid to dig into relationships and get below the surface early on. Go deep quicker. Invest in people. Note: this is not romantic advice – that may be completely different.
Healthy movers understand the significance of NOW.
Important side note – Aggressive ≠ stupid.
4. Emulate the Greats
When you think about people who are on a similar life path (expat, missionary, military etc.) who do you see that is doing this well? Pick three to five people that come to your mind when you answer that question.
- Why did they come to your mind?
- How do they interact with people?
- How do they take care of themselves?
- What do other people say about them?
- What are their habits? Their routines? Their disciplines?
Deconstructing their lives a bit will give you a great short list of characteristics for you to transfer onto your trajectory.
Be yourself but emulate the greats.
5. Give more than you take
There are two kinds of movers — the givers and the takers.
Takers bounce from place to place to suck the life out of the culture and the community. They are selfish adventurers who are looking to get what they can get and care little about the people around them. They are rude to their hosts. They are parasitic and abusive but sometimes no one notices because they can also be a lot of fun.
In the end their brick wall is a pile of sand.
Don’t be those people. Be the givers.
6. Always be changing
The richest part of transience is diversity. Every place you go, every community you live in, every group of people that you do life with is a new and unique opportunity. You get to see the world from their perspective and you quickly learn that every perspective is different.
Become a lifelong student of the places you live and the people who live there with you. That should be changing you.
7. Never change
Even though you change with every stop, who you are at the core should be rock solid. Be careful not to let different places and different people cause you to forget your deepest values.
8. Bust the Bubble
The bubble is the place you can go and not need anything else. It’s safe and comfortable. The people inside are just like you. They speak your language, they share your frustrations, they eat your food, they drink your drinks. It’s enjoyable and rarely awkward. Outside of the bubble there is a lot more risk. You have to work harder to communicate. The people there are weird.
Bust the bubble. Movers miss so much because they never branch out.
Whether your bubble is corporate or expat or something else . . . set yourself free. There’s some really cool stuff on the other side.
9. Redefine Home
Home is where the heart is right? Yeah, you can bet that a mover said that.
Home for you is people (specifically the ones who stay with you no matter where you go) but it’s way more than just that. It is principles and protocol and other things that also probably start with a “p”. It’s just NOT a place — at least not just one.
Don’t settle for a half empty glass. “Well, we move around a lot so I’m just not sure where home is.”
Bunk.
Just change “where” to “what” and answer the question. It is everything (seen and unseen) that you will take with you the next time you move.
Have those conversations with your family.
10. Wherever you are . . . be there
It’s easy to checkout early especially when you know you’ll be leaving soon. That can be dangerous for movers who are never NOT leaving. When your time is short, every moment counts . . . especially the last ones. It’s a different way of thinking but work towards leaving a piece of yourself after you’re gone instead of not being present while your are still there.
Read these if you’re in the process of leaving
Leaving Well
Landing Well
Staying Well
For some it’s a calling, for others it’s a job. Regardless, I am convinced that the end result of a life spent moving can be a beautiful string of amazing experiences, a stockpile of incredible stories and a huge network of quality relationships.
Have something to add to the list? Comment below.
Know a mover who might need this? Please pass it on.
Nov 5, 2014 |
The original title of this post was “Ten Reasons I Love the Fact that My Kids are TCK’s.”
I couldn’t stop.
My kids are TCK’s and I love it.
I was re-reminded of this simple fact as we traveled back to China together last month. By definition they qualify for full membership as Third Culture Kids even though we now live in our passport country.
As parents we have done our fair share of second guessing and worrying about this. Is this too much transition? Too many goodbyes? Too many hellos? Will they ever have roots? Will they even know what roots are? Are we messing them up for life?
Despite the doubts and challenges I can say wholeheartedly that I love that my kids are TCK’s.
This is what I love
1. I love that they look at a map and see friends instead of stereotypes
You’ve seen them right? World maps that show us the “people of the world.” There is inevitably a soccer player in Brazil, a matador in Spain, a Crocodile Dundee knockoff in Australia and some guy with a pointy hat in China. I love that my daughter sees Brazil and thinks of Pedro who was in her 2nd grade class.
2. I love that they see people and not Disney Characters
Nothing against Disney but cultural cliche’s are fairly standard for animated features. I love that my kids are learning that cliche’s are not the full picture. There are people behind the stereotypes.
3. I love that they hear the world in rich languages and not funny accents
My kids are no strangers to hearing other languages or hearing English with thick, sometimes difficult to understand accents. Mocking those people doesn’t make sense to them though. Why would you make fun someone who speaks a second language poorly when you can’t speak any of theirs?
4. I love that they can empathize with language learners
We’ve lived on the flip side of speaking a second language poorly. My kids know how it feels to want (or even need) to say more than your vocabulary allows. This makes them uber slow to cast judgment on the bumbling foreigner in front of us at the American grocery store. We’ve been that bumbling foreigner. No one ever told us to speak Chinese or get out though.
5. I love that they are learning to communicate more content in fewer words
They have been trained the hard way to use fewer words, use more hand gestures and explain challenging concepts in simple terms. The ability to be concise is such a valuable skill. I would say more but that would ruin my point.
6. I love that they don’t make fun of people because they are different
Different is more normal than being normal. It’s not that my kids are above thinking that something (or even someone) is weird. They’re kids. However I am seeing in them that even weird is understood as a place where there is something to learn, not a place to mock because they don’t understand.
7. I love that they have been the weird ones
Being stared at has been an average day for us. Being questioned about our ethnicity and the mixed up color palate of our family has been our standard. Sometimes that was really hard. Irritating. Down right frustrating but I love that my kids have felt the sting of standing out in a crowd. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with #6.
8. I love that they are not intimidated by far off places
China may as well have been Mars when I was 11 years old. I tried digging a hole once. There is no place on earth that my kids would not be excited to go. There is also no place that they don’t think they could ever get to. They are explorers in a very literal and realistically expectant sense.
9. I love that they are not intimidated by new
New people. New places. New foods. New adventures. Always exciting. Always scary. Never not worth it.
10. I love that they love airports
Boarding passes. Security. Gate. They know the drill and they love the adventure of gift shops, snack stores, play places and luggage carts in-between each step. Every airport is both exactly the same and yet beautifully different.
11. I love that they can look forward to a 14 hour plane ride
Ok this one is much better now that most planes have video-on-demand but still . . . is there another scenario on earth where you can strap a hyperactive five year old boy to a chair for more than 50% of an entire day and he actually enjoys it? If so I have not found it yet.
12. I love that they can process without comparing
My kids are no stranger to paradox. They have learned that most everything is some mix of good and bad, exciting and challenging, fun and boring. However they have naturally learned to do something that I cannot. They process the paradox of individual issues without comparing them. In other words they don’t ask, “which is better, life in China or life in America?” They acknowledge that both are wonderful and tough but it doesn’t make sense to compare the two. They are different.
13. I love that their innocence has been sustained just a little bit longer
There are some things that they have missed growing up in America. I am not sad about all of those.
14. I love that they are not shaped by pop culture
They may have also missed a boy band or two. Again . . . I am not sad.
15. I love that the Evening News makes more sense to them than it ever did to me
I still don’t get it.
16. I love that they go deep quickly
They understand so well the value of right now. It doesn’t take them years to make friends because they may not have years. My introvert goes deep with one or two and my extravert goes deep with anyone he can find but neither of them wastes time on the surface.
17. I love that they know how to say goodbye
Goodbyes never get easier. Since that is true I’m thankful that they are developing the skill of doing it well.
18. I love that they pick up where they left off like no time has passed
It may be years between play dates but both of my kids have shown that they know how to jump right back in like it was yesterday. Life long relationships are not contingent on proximity for them.
19. I love that they see two sides and seek to make peace
Ok I haven’t so much seen this in my son just yet but he’s five. My daughter however, often finds herself conflicted because she sees two sides of an argument. Both right. Both wrong. It’s confusing in the fifth grade but a skill that I pray continues to develop.
20. They don’t freak out when something stinks
WAAAAHHHH!!! NAAASSSTY!! That seems like a common (and even fair) kid response when the smell of the public restroom actually burns your nasal passages. My kids may not like it but they’ve been there and done that. They know their options. No need to make a scene.
21. I love the pride they feel about where they’ve been
Appropriately of course. I love it when we see a map or a flag and they get to say, “been there.” I love it when someone says something completely stupid and stereotypical about China and they just grin because they know better. I love doing this part of their adventure with them.
22. I love that they never stop blowing my mind
Ever.
23. I love that they are MY kids
We fit. We look nothing alike. We drive each other nuts. They embrace with full passion their roles of bossy older sister and bratty little brother. Our home is rarely quiet and never, ever boring.
It’s perfect.
24. I love that they are unique
There is no catch all TCK stereotype. If there was Disney would make a movie about them. Every TCK is different and unique, including the two at my house.
My five year old son said it best while we were in China. Having flown for two days from the place he now calls home and standing in front of the place he has always known to be home we asked him the unanswerable TCK question . . . ”
Where is home?”
Unprompted, he nailed it.
“Wherever WE are.”
I love it — and I love my TCK’s.
- Love that your kids are TCK’s too? Add to the list in the comment section.
- Know some parents who love their TCK’s too? Pass this along.
Nov 3, 2014 |
Welcome to Day 5 of a 31 day challenge to write 500 words or more. For more on that click here: goinswriter.com
I’m really not good at math so Daylight Savings is messing me up both professionally and personally. Let me explain.
Not only did I get jilted out of my golden hour of extra sleep yesterday AND depressed when the sun went down shortly after lunch
click here to read yesterdays post: “On Daylight Savings Time”
NOW I am forced to do math for work. I live and work, at least to some extent, on two sides of the world on any given day. Much of my job is connecting with people in China. I travel there at least twice a year but even when I am right here in America I stay connected. I have good friends there. Many of my coworkers and even my bosses are there. It is not uncommon for me to have several meetings in China a week.
Thanks to Buck Rogers (who who was the brainchild behind Skype – see picture to the left) I am able to do that from the comfort of my home office.
For what I call the six “good months” of the year China and the Eastern part of America are exactly 12 time zones apart. It’s beautiful. There is no math involved. If it is 12:00 here it is 12:00 there. It’s just the other 12. So all I need to do is look at the clock, then look outside. If it is dark where I am, it is light there and vice versa. So simple and just as it should be.
China has done it 100% right. There is ONE time zone in the entire country. That’s it. One.
Even though it is roughly the same width (east to west) as the continental U.S. (which has four time zones in the same space) it is precisely the same time no matter where you are. Brilliant.
As if it were not confusing enough for Americans who constantly need to ask, “which time zone are you in again?” we have also decided to switch it by one hour twice every year. China on the other hand does not (in fact outside of North America, Europe and a sprinkling of other regions most of the world does not) . So for the second (or “bad”) six months of the year we are 13 hours different . . . or if you go the other way . . . 11. If it is 11:00 here it is 12:00 there and if it is 4 there . . . 3 here. Either way when I look at my clock I know that we are one away after I mentally change the sun into the moon.
It is not a challenging equation I know. Instead of X=X it is now X+1 = X+1. However, I cannot communicate to you clearly enough how inept I am when it comes to matters of arithmetic as they intersect with real life and especially important meetings.
I have been late more than once.
Personally I feel that times zones are a mistake altogether.
I think it would be astronomically easier to simply adjust our lifestyles and put the entire planet on one single time zone. It’s really just a matter of perspective.
So what if the sun comes up at 1am and you go to work at 2. That’s only weird for a little bit. At least when someone in New York calls someone in Las Vegas they don’t have to have this conversation.
“Which time zone is Vegas in again? — Pacific? — Hmm I thought you were Mountain — So that’s three hours or four hours different? — Right . . . is that four hours forward or four hours backward? — Got it. so if it’s 10 here it’s 6 there right? — Wait, or is it 2? — Nope it’s 6 . . . Right?”
Considering the fact that many people, like myself, are also interacting across multiple time zones I think my plan is full proof.
“Hey, person in China, I’ll call you at noon”
“Ok . . . I can stay up until then.”
Easy.
This all makes a ton more sense when you consider that a number of nations are on 1/2 hour time zones (see map above). Consider India for example. Even though India sits mostly and directly south of China, if it is 5:12 on the China side it is 3:42 right across the border.
BUT WAIT — There is more!
Nepal which is tucked neatly between China and India has a 3/4 of an hour time zone.
My mind just exploded.
WERE NOT DONE YET — Now throw into the mix that Arizonans (except the Navajos) DO NOT acknowledge daylight savings time.
They were just like, “Meh – we don’t want to fall back.”
So imagine a booming multinational corporation trying to set up a Skype conference call between their offices in L.A., Atlanta, Beijing, Mumbai, Kathmandu and Phoenix.
“Lets schedule that for 6pm/10pm/11am/8:30am/8:15am.”
“What about Phoenix?”
“Nope, can’t talk to them until next summer.”
Yeah . . . no chance somebody’s gonna miss that one.
OR – We could do it my way.
“See you at 4.”
And those are my 500 (+) words.
Daylight Savings Time Usage Map
blue=currently uses
orange=formerly used
red=has never used
Nov 23, 2013 |
Reposted from October 2011: This is one of my favorite Culture Blend memories of faking Chinese in China.
I got blasted with a dose of my own indignance this week.
Chinese is tonal. If you haven’t tried to learn it then that means nothing to you. It’s pointless trivia, like “celery has negative calories” or “bats always turn left when they exit a cave”. All true (verified via the internet) but knowing it adds zero value to your life (maybe negative . . . like celery . . . and calories). If you have tried to learn Chinese however, then the overwhelming significance of these three words just made you vomit a little bit in your mouth.
A Quick Chinese Lesson for the Vomitless:
If you say “ma” it means “mother” (stink – Chinese is easy! what are you whining about?). However, if you say “ma” it means “horse” and if you say “ma” it means “anesthesia” and if you say “ma” it means “hemp” and if you say “ma” it means “tingly and numb” and if you say “ma” it means “sesame” and if you say “Ma” you may be speaking to a guy named Mr. Ma . . . or you may be trying to speak to Mr. Ma but you’re actually calling him “Mr. Sesame” and if you’re introducing him to your mother you may actually be saying “Hey Mr. Sesame this is my horse” or “this is my anesthesia” or “this is my hemp” for which you could be arrested and possibly executed (see here for more on that) all because you used the wrong tone.
It’s the most felt challenge of living as a foreigner in China. Not so much the threat of execution but the daily, blood boiling, teeth grinding irritation of knowing that you are saying the right word and getting nothing but a blank stare. I have seen some of the sweetest, tenderest, most loving souls I know transformed into screaming, blubbering freaks because the taxi driver just can’t understand their well rehearsed Chinese.
“SESAME STREET! YOU MORON! SESAME STREET! SESAME STREET! SESAME STREET! CAN YOU PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO GET TO SESAME STREET?!!”
And the driver stares blankly because all he hears is, “Mother Street! Horse Street! Anesthesia Street! Can you please tell me how to get to Tingly and Numb Street?!”
Hence the vomit.
The result is a heavy dependence on context. Maybe my tones are off but if I can get the surrounding words to make sense then generally the Chinese listener will graciously figure it out. “OOHH – This is not really his horse, in fact she is not a horse at all . . . he probably means his mother.” However the Ma of all frustrations is when the context is crystal clear, the phonetics are spot on, the tones are just slightly off and there is still a total failure to communicate. “I SO know that I am SO close so why can’t you understand me?!”
Checking into a hotel in Beijing last week I got the tables turned on me. I was holding up the line as the front desk girl and I flipped through my family’s passport books searching for the right visas and stamps. Her English was rough but I was catching most of it. My Chinese was rougher but she was gracious. Finally we got the visa issues settled and she looked me straight in the eye and said . . .
“How about birds?”
You know that moment when you have no clue what is going on but your mind races to make something up? I got stuck there. I was certain I misheard her so I questioned, “I’m sorry?”
“Birds”
In about three seconds this was my thought process, *are there birds in the room? I don’t think I want birds in my room. I’ve seen birds for sale on the street, do they sell birds here? Is there some type of giveaway that I don’t know about? This is a holiday weekend, maybe they give birds to customers for Chinese National Day. That would be really strange considering this is an airport hotel and most of the customers will be flying home soon. Do they expect us to take birds home on the airplane with us? You can’t do that. I know China’s basic view on animal rights is different than where I come from but really? Birds? In my suitcase? They are so going to stop me at security. I wonder what color they are.*
“I’m sorry . . . what?”
She repeated, “Birds.”
Blank stare.
“Do you want one or two birds in your room.”
I was so thoroughly confused. *My two year old son will never go to sleep if we have any birds in our room. Why would you put birds in my room?!*
I could sense her frustration but still smiling she said, “Chuang.”
“OOHH Beds!”
Dear China: I’m sorry for snapping at your taxi drivers and thinking bad thoughts about you because you don’t understand my tones. You win.
For more about the pain and joy of learning Chinese go here:
Confessions of a Language Faker
The Diarrhea Clinic and Why I Think it’s Funny
Nov 14, 2013 |
Ask anyone who has spent some time as a foreigner and returned to their home country what they miss and virtually zero of them will say “stinky toilets.” That made my list but only the ironic one (The 8 Most Ironic Things I Miss About China).
I’m the exception. It’s not the first time.
What they WILL say – almost universally – is that they miss Community. There is something indescribably sweet about living in close proximity to people who are as bumbling and incompetent as you are in a world where none of you can order food without a picture menu or describe how you would like your hair cut with any level of confidence that you will not be walking away bald . . . or half bald . . . or Amish.
In community we depend on each other. We help each other. We stand in the gap for each other and the gaps are not insignificant. When one of us learns to read the Chinese character for, “BEEF” he becomes the official food orderer until he surrenders his role to the man who can read both “BEEF” and “CHICKEN.” Absolute job security is available for anyone who can read obscure dishes like “COW STOMACH” or “FROG OVARIES.”
When one of the women finds a stylist who speaks English (or at least understands the miming equivalent for “please NO bangs” or “I said BELOW the shoulders!”) the word spreads like wildfire. Our particular community experienced a hair revolution when a British stylist moved to town. In a matter of months every single expat woman in the city had made an appointment to see “the Hair Doctor” and the collective foreign female community could have posed for the cover of Expat Vogue.
For my family, community is what we have loved the most about our China experience. We grew to love and rely on an incredible group of bumbling, incompetent people (no offense if you are one of them) because we were equally (and often more) bumbling and incompetent ourselves.
Tell me this true story is not awesome . . .
If we EVER needed eggs or onions or taco seasoning this was our process for attaining it:
- Send a text “Got eggs?”
- Wait 30 seconds for a reply “Yep”
- Step out the front door
- Elevator dings, door opens and BOOM – eggs are waiting on the elevator floor
I kid you not – we developed a back up system with our dear friends on the first floor that was flawless. If they were in their back yard (opposite side of the apartment from the elevator) we would attach a bag to a giant rubber band and drop it from the back window on the fourth floor SO THAT neither of us would have to walk all the way to the other side of our apartment.
Out of bumbling and incompetence (maybe a touch of laziness) brilliance is born.
We have enjoyed community so much that we have willfully planned the next phase of our lives (right here in America) around intentionally living in very close proximity to people who fully intend to lean on us as much as we lean on them. This presents two problems. One, in our home culture none of us needs the same level of support that we did when we were foreigners. Therefore we actually need to create an environment of bumbling and incompetence (easier for some than others) so we can need each other more. And B, when you try to explain community to people who have never lived it, they look at you like you smell funny.
Hence my next post: “No We’re Not Starting a Nudist Colony: Explaining Community to People Who Have Never Experienced It”
Nov 12, 2013 |
Uh. The people. Duh.
That’s the only respectable answer to the question most often asked of people who have recently moved across the planet . . . “What do you miss the most?” It has now been five months since my family and I relocated our lives from China back to the U.S. and just as I expected, I am missing the people like crazy. Also no surprise is number two . . . the food.
The crazy bit is the number of things that I’m finding myself missing that I never dreamed I would.
Here’s my short list of the most ironic things I miss about China:
1. Stinky Toilets
This never would have made my list had a friend of mine and China expat veteran not blown my mind and saved my bacon at the same time. I challenged a group of expats once to find the good and the bad of every part of their transition. Confident I could pull off this discussion I threw out the bait, “What was the worst part of your first year in China?” Without skipping a beat the voice came from the back, “SQUATTY POTTIES”. The whole group groaned in agreement (no pun intended).
Internally I was sure that my theory was busted but I was too far in to turn back. “Ok can anyone think of anything good about squatting your fully exposed posterior over a foul smelling, nasty, stank infested, porcelain hole in the ground?”
“Anyone?”
“Anyone?”
The awkwardness was finally broken by my friend who said, “the worst toilets I ever smelled and the best people I ever met were in the Chinese countryside so now every time I smell a nasty toilet I am reminded of my time there.”
Brilliant. I miss stinky toilets.
Here’s a post about that: China’s Beautiful Countryside
2. Hoofing It
To be clear, when I was in China the one thing I missed more more than anything (except the people – duh) is driving a car. I also complained daily about having to walk so far just to find a taxi (which I also complained about because it reminded me that I didn’t have a car). However, I’m realizing, now that I have a car to carry me everywhere, that my body and my mind are both missing my daily walks. Long walks gave me a great chance to process my day, plan the next one and complain about the fact that I didn’t have a car. They were also infinitely more healthy than sitting behind a steering wheel complaining about the fact that I never get to walk anywhere.
Never satisfied.
3. Communism
I have spent a ridiculous amount of time writing and rewriting this paragraph because I’m confident that any way I explain it, it’s going to come out horribly wrong. So I’m settling on short, sweet and trusting you, the reader and my fellow Americans (if you are), to understand that I have not switched allegiance to the Communist party nor am I the least bit unthankful for the freedoms of my beautiful American life.
However, a refreshing side note to Chinese Communism is that I have met very few Chinese people who both:
- Claim loudly to be living in the “Greatest Nation in the World”
- Complain incessantly about how horrible everything in their nation is
The opposite seems to be true around here. Moving on.
4. Illiteracy
I read Chinese at about the same level that my four year old reads English. We both stumble around in virtual darkness and jump for joy when something makes sense. It’s bonding really. Although it is nice to be able to read again, ten minutes in front of the tabloids at the grocery store makes me miss the golden days of blissful illiteracy.
5. Faking Chinese
For seven years the most consistent challenge of my daily existence has been saying words. It has become a very normal cycle of my everyday routine to
- Need to communicate a thought
- Realize I cannot
- Learn a new word
- Try to use it
- Receive a blank stare
- Try again
- Act it out using hand gestures and props from around the room
- Give up.
My Chinese is still pretty shaky but my mime skills have gotten crazy good.
99% of the time it has been something super simple like “do you carry flourescent light bulbs ?” or “please don’t put ketchup on my Egg Mcmuffin”. It’s the 1% times like, “my son is having a seizure, please do something” that have left the most lasting impact. Some combination of learning Chinese and learning how to fake it have helped me make it through the past seven years one awkward mistake at a time.
And I’ll be doggone’d if I don’t miss it every single day.
Check out some of my favorite posts about faking Chinese
6. Being Stared At
Strange I know. Doesn’t make a bit of sense to me either but after a while you kind of get used to being a walking confusion storm. That’s what my family is in China. We don’t make sense no matter how you look at us. Two white foreigners with a Chinese daughter (who speaks remarkable English) and a black son who has just recently become a ninja. Yeah. We’re confusing. So people stare (and sometimes take pictures) because it is perfectly, culturally acceptable to stare at weird things in China. Given the fact that we were taught that it is absolutely unacceptable and terribly rude to stare at weird things (until you know for sure that they are not looking at you), it can be one of the frustrating bits of cultural adjustment.
And still . . . I miss it.
7. Taking Taxis
Great conversation. Deep cultural insight. All the cigarettes he can smoke. Near death thrill rides. What’s not to miss?
8. Being a Foreigner
There is something profound and humbling about experiencing life as a bumbling outsider. Tripping over culture every single day. Miscommunicating every word and every thought. Wondering what people think when they look at you. Getting cut in line by tiny elderly women. Being told you’re too fat or too old or too black or your baby is too cold or too hot or too diapered. Daily feeling smugly pompous about how much righter you are than them and then wondering if you’ve ever been right about anything.
It all blends. It ain’t always pretty. In fact it’s often quite messy.
But dang I miss it.
Ironic huh?
How about you? Expats? Repats? What are you missing that you never thought you would?
