Leaving well for expats is all well and good as long as things go well . . . and good.
But sometimes they don’t.
Sometimes the final weeks of your expat experience get blasted by circumstance. Sometimes leaving is a mess, not a choice. Sometimes it’s a rush to the airport with no time for intentional eye contact or heartfelt affirmations. Sometimes the bitterness feels beyond reconciliation. Sometimes the schedules are just too crazy, the people are just too busy or the time is just too short.
And what about the Stayers? We do this every stinking year. We have circumstances too.
Plans get made — sometimes they work.
When they don’t, here are some things to consider.
Leaving is a process — not a moment.
There is a LOT more to leaving than the airplane ride. There is a ramp up to the moment of physical departure which is where “Leaving Well” belongs. It’s where you pay attention to your relationships (the strong ones and the strained ones), you crank up the intentionality and you schedule all of your “one last times.”
The driving principle is that there are things you can do during this time that will soon be off the table. Do them while you can. The ramp up is PRIME TIME for leaving well.
Unless you can’t. Then the loss is compounded by the sense of “I didn’t even get to . . .”
Here’s the reality . . . The process ramps DOWN too. Primetime may be over but that doesn’t have to equal a total loss.
If leaving didn’t look like you had hoped it would then stay intentional on the other side of the airplane until your relationships have received the attention they deserve.
Settle for less.
It’s really simple math. LESS is not what you hoped for. It’s disappointing. Frustrating. Sad.
But LESS is still MORE than NOTHING.
The tendency is to mentally shift into NEXT mode and hit the ground running. If you’re a Stayer then you wrap your head around the absence of your people and start adjusting to yet another new normal. Hard departures typically leave Stayers and Goers with either a sense of regret or blame.
“I wish I had done this.” OR “I hate how that happened.”
A Skype call is NOT a coffee date.
Email affirmations are NOT intentional eye contact.
Emojis are NOT hugs.
Wrap your head and your heart around that . . . and then make the call. Write the email. Send the emoji.
Lead with “This is not how I wanted to do this . . . but . . . ”
It’s OK to settle for less . . . but don’t settle for nothing.
Lifers are for life
PLANE RIDES DON’T end relationships.
Soak in that for a moment.
Incessant goodbyes are, hands down, the hardest part of a life abroad BUT the uber richness of a global network of friendships is hard to measure.
You’ve done life with these people. Incompetent, bumbling, smashed together life. You have figured stuff out together. Leaned on each other. Fallen apart in front of each other and the bond that comes out of that is not bound by geographical proximity. Even if the leaving process doesn’t turn out like you had always dreamed it would, take comfort in knowing that these relationships (at least the best ones) transcend accessibility.
Things get all messed up when they don’t go according to our plan. In the rush and the stress and the chaos of transition people are rarely the best versions of themselves. We say stuff. We forget stuff. We react poorly.
Here’s the thing . . . If leaving was hard you don’t get to leave that stuff behind.
Here’s the other thing . . . If being left was even harder, that stuff doesn’t fly away when they do.
Let some people off the hook for the pettiness, the pride, the selfishness and the frantic reactions that come out of hard seasons.
Pause.
Don’t hear me say, just slap a quick, “boom – forgiven” stamp on every misdeed and move on. NOT that easy. Forgiveness is hard. Deep. Complex. And just like leaving, it is a process.
But moving forward without it makes the next thing suck.
Dig in but don’t just ignore it.
Sometimes leaving well is a tall order. Sometimes being left is even taller. Don’t settle for the lie that there is only one way to do it.
There’s a ton of information out there for expats who are coming down to the last days of their time abroad on how to Leave Well. I say fair enough since — you know — it’s an important topic — and I wrote a lot of it.
Here’s the thing. Not EVERYONE WANTS to leave WELL. What about those people? Don’t see many books or blog posts out there for them do you?
So here you go. For those who are just done. Over it. SO ready to fly away, never look back and leave a trail of mess behind them.
(Alternatives offered for those still on the fence)
Here are TEN WAYS to Leave Poorly
ONE: CHECK OUT EARLY
Finishing is hard. Let’s just get on with it. Want to leave poorly? Turn your FULL attention to NEXT as soon as you can. Spend every spare moment daydreaming, Googling, Youtubing or Zillowing the next thing. Do the bare minimum on this side. What are they gonna’ do? Fire you?
An alternative: Set aside specific hours to pay attention to “NEXT”. Focus like a laser beam during those hours. Dream. Plan. Job hunt. Connect — but set an alarm. Then be PRESENT where you are. Don’t let frustration steal your best moments.
TWO: SNEAK OUT THE BACK DOOR
People have a lot going on. They don’t need to be bothered by your dramatic departure. Farewells are hard and frankly, the people who are NOT leaving are kind of sick of it. Book your flight early and don’t tell people when you’re leaving. Send an email later (if you think of it).
An alternative: Let it hurt. Let it be awkward. Do the crying and the hugging and the intentional eye contact blubbering. Say what you really feel before you fly away.
THREE: FAKE A FIGHT
Let your Leaving Brain take over — it will do the rest. Somewhere in your subconscious, you understand that leaving is hard BECAUSE it is good. The gooder (now a word) it is, the harder it is. So put your brain on autopilot and let it drum up some some self protective conflict. Presto — less good — less hard. It’s simple math really.
An alternative: Recognize what your brain is doing. You’re normal if extra (sometimes petty) problems show up during transition. Keep short accounts. Apologize quickly. Deal with the hard stuff but don’t let it drive.
This is a GREAT way to leave poorly AND make some cash on the side. Make sure you get the BEST price for EVERYTHING you get rid of. Be firm. People will come rushing in like vultures trying to get a good deal. Don’t get taken advantage of.
An Alternative: Take a financial hit for a relational gain. Your stuff is valuable but your time is precious and your people are priceless. Don’t feel guilty for selling your stuff but don’t let it rob you of time with your people. Consider giving your best stuff to your best people as a departing gift. They’ll see it and think of you for years to come. The money will be gone in days.
Now take a few minutes and think of your own. Choose five. Write them on post-it-notes and put them around your home. Be very intentional to start EVERY conversation with one of these five. Don’t be fooled by sweet gestures and niceties. You’re too busy for that — probably too tired as well.
An Alternative: Acknowledge that parts of this are just plain hard. It IS exhausting. You ARE busy. But this is a season and it’s going to be over soon. Now realize that the good things are going with it too. This place may be challenging AND you will probably miss it terribly.
SIX: JUST LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE
Busy? Stressed? Exhausted? Take all of your post-it-notes from number 5 and put a HAPPY STAMP on them. Just smile big and speak in cheery tones. Ignore the bad stuff — you’ll be gone soon anyway, Avoid the “bad” people — you never have to deal with them again if you can just hold on.
An alternative: Deal with your issues. Forgive people. Ask for forgiveness. Address it all but do it in such a way that you can move forward. Little secret: Issues fly. Skipping them now doesn’t mean they won’t travel with you.
SEVEN: STEAL THE SHOW
You are leaving. That’s a big deal. Probably the biggest deal in your life right now. Fair enough. INSIST that it become the biggest deal in everyone else’s life as well. Dominate the community with the “I AM LEAVING YOU SHOULD BE SAD” narrative.
An Alternative: Be sensitive to the community who gets left A LOT. Put some time and thought into a plan for maximizing the VALUE of farewell times without dominating other people’s already busy schedules. Don’t contribute to “FAREWELL FATIGUE.” It’s ok for this to be the biggest thing in your life and not theirs.
A surefire way to leave poorly — consider the most annoying and frustrating tasks possible and ensure that your final moments are spent doing exactly that. Never fails. Why spend time sharing meals and connecting with your closest friends when you could be closing bank accounts, stopping cell service or fighting with your landlord about how much it costs to fix a scratch on the refrigerator.
An Alternative: Get your affairs in order early. Take care of logistics or at least set them in motion so your final moments can be shared with the people of your choosing.
NINE: HAVE A SUPERHERO COMPLEX
You’ve worked hard. Put a lot into this place. It’s probably going to fall to pieces when you leave. Spend a ton of time making sure that your replacement will be able to do EVERYTHING EXACTLY like you have. Consider every possibility and leave detailed instructions. Convince yourself they’ll actually do it that way and pretend that it is all for their good and not just to satisfy your sensitive ego.
Bonus tip — Start every line with: “It’s TOTALLY up to you but you’ll probably want to . . . ”
Passive aggression is the best.
An Alternative: Take a deep breath. Your contribution means something. Your work has been good — but expat communities are transient and forward moving. Your impact will be felt but something is going to change from the way you have done it. Help your successor . . . don’t box them in.
TEN: LIVE GRACELESSLY
Times of transition are tough for everyone . . . but mostly for you. Make sure people know that.
An Alternative:Forgive and seek forgiveness even before you’re asked. Let people off the hook when they say or do stupid things. Make people your priority on the way out. Give grace like crazy to all of them . . . and keep some for yourself.
I steer clear because I have never considered my contribution valuable. I have opinions like EVERYONE ELSE in the world but bringing them into this conversation would be like bringing a squirt gun to a firestorm.
My labels don’t exactly lend credibility either. “Hey everybody! Pipe down, we’ve got a white, American, straight, Christian, male who has something to say about racism!”
“Gee. Great. We haven’t heard from one of those guys yet.”
But there is something rich that happens when you step away from your “home” culture and see yourself (and the world that you grew up in) through a different set of lenses. Am I right?
It’s challenging but it is good.
It hurts but it helps.
It’s alarming . . . but sometimes . . . it’s transformational.
With all of that said I think I have something to say about racists.
Ready?
I might be one — but I can’t tell. Here’s why.
The word “racist” ONLY seems to show up in two forms. As an ACCUSATION — or a DENIAL. It’s never a discovery. Never a realization. Never a confession. There is zero room for nuance. Zero range. Zero spectrum.
You either are or you’re not.
It’s used exclusively in the second and third person (positively) — “YOU ARE A RACIST AND THEY ARE TOO!!”
OR
in the first person (negatively).
“I AM NOT!!”
(take 2 minutes and 52 seconds to watch this video)
The two-sided approach produces radically different definitions.
The ACCUSER says, “Have you EVER used a term, said a word, thought a thought or acted in a way that could be considered racist? Then you must be one.”
Justin Bieber said the n-word when he was 14.
Paula Deen said it before Justin Bieber was even born.
The DENIER says, “Is any part of my life NOT racist? Then boom! I am NOT one.”
“I have Asian friends.”
“I voted for a black man.”
“I’m not as bad as that guy.”
So by the ACCUSER’S definition — are YOU a racist?
I am (and I cried a little bit when I wrote that).
BUT as the ACCUSED I am SO quick to DENY, DENY, DENY.
My daughter is Asian.
My son is black.
Look at this picture.
How could I possibly be racist?
See how that works?
I’d love to have a different conversation. Here’s why.
“Racism” is a powerful and important word. The conversations that surround it are also important . . . in ALL of their different forms.
The venomous political debates need to happen.
The marches have changed things.
The ACCUSATIONS and the DENIALS make total sense.
AND THERE IS MORE . . . There is another side to the conversation that typically gets reduced to ashes in the firestorm.
It’s a conversation where I look at ME and not YOU.
I ask MYSELF hard questions instead of responding poorly to yours.
I come face to face with my own mess and I own it, even if I hate it.
I move forward to something better instead of being chained to my broken past.
It doesn’t start with “I AM A RACIST.” We don’t even agree on what that means. But . . .
It might go something like this.
I grew up around people who shared my labels. In my home, I was taught to love people both by instruction and example. Growing up though (although never in my family) I heard racial slurs and hateful, horrible stereotypes that formed my own prejudice. I heard banter that celebrated the misfortune of other races.
I heard “Polack jokes” before I knew that Poland was a country. I heard the term “Jewing them down” from the same people who taught me about the Jewish people in Sunday School. I heard terms like “Spick” and “Gook” and “Raghead” and “Chink” and had to ask each time which ethnicity we were talking about because I had never met any of them in real life. I listened to joke after joke that mocked the physical features, the language, the eating habits, the poverty and the crime rate of the African descended people who lived on the other side of town.
And I laughed.
I laughed because I valued the approval of people who were like me more than I valued the actual people who weren’t.
I’m sorry.
I regret all of that and it breaks me to think about it. I wish that it were not a part of my story but there is no way to untell it. Ignoring it has never made it go away.
I have grown since then. I have changed dramatically — but even now I continue to discover pieces that are packed tightly and deeply in my core that I never knew were there. Layer after layer of entitlement continue to be peeled away.
I still struggle to recognize and acknowledge the humanity of the humans around me.
The expats are going “home”. Some for a whirlwind visit and others for good. If you’re on the welcoming end of that equation you’re probably giddy with anticipation. “FINALLY, the traveling prodigals are returning. This is going to be good.
Some of you are asking the obvious questions:
How can I drive them absolutely nuts when they arrive?
What is the one thing I can do that will be like nails down a chalkboard to their fragile, jet-lagged existence?
Good news. This list is especially for you
AND
as an extra added bonus for anyone out there who might prefer a less conventional, more life-affirming, not quite so soul-sucking approach — pay attention to the ALTERNATIVE.
Here are TEN things you can do to drive an expat crazy
ONE: MOCK THEIR “OTHER” LANGUAGE
This one never fails. Hit it hard and fast. Greet them at the airport with your thickest accent from the country they have lived in. Not good with accents? No problem. Just make up jibberish words that remind you of what you think that language sounds like.
Still stuck? Watch a Disney movie for inspiration.
This is the lowest hanging fruit.
AN ALTERNATIVE: Pause and consider that one of the greatest challenges of their time away may have been saying words. When the time is right, have a conversation about the challenges of learning a language and how that has impacted their experience.
TWO: JOKES
“Hey, honey! The Joneses are back from China! Better put the dog away!”
Slap on the back and a hearty laugh.
“Get it?! Cause they eat dogs in China!”
Laugh again even harder.
Trust me — this one never, ever fails. Pick a joke that reduces their whole experience and the people they have fallen in love with to a single, annoying stereotype and boom . . . guaranteed nerve grating.
AN ALTERNATIVE: Start with a vulnerable statement that confesses your ignorance instead of a joke that proudly displays it. “Hey, I gotta’ admit, all I know about that country is what I’ve seen on TV . . . can I ask some stupid questions?” Learn something new.
THREE: TELL THEM HOW HAPPY THEY ARE
“You must be SO GLAD to be out of there!!”
“Good to be HOME huh? Bet you’ll never do that again.”
This is great. Watch their face when you say it. Instant jaw clench. Nose flare. Eye squint.
AN ALTERNATIVE: Recognize their paradox. They can be completely thrilled to be “home” and feel like they just left it at the same time. Give them the space to love both places and the time to grieve their loss. Ask them what they’re going to miss the most.
FOUR: BATCH THEIR “OTHER” COUNTRY WITH THE OTHERS THAT IT REMINDS YOU OF
“Hey! Say something in African!”
or
“So you learned Chinese? That is so cool.”
“Uhh . . . actually, I was in Japan.”
“Oh . . . so, yes or no?”
or
“Welcome back from Austria!” (wink and a friendly punch on the arm) “G’day mate!”
Expats get SOOOO picky about stuff like that.
AN ALTERNATIVE: Decide to be THAT friend. The one who shows enough interest to do a little research ahead of time and still leans on the expertise of the one who has lived there for the final word.
FIVE: ASSUME YOU KNOW WHAT THEY WANT TO EAT
“I knew you’d be missing India so guess what! CURRY FOR DINNER!!”
-or potentially equally annoying-
“Yeah, we thought about curry but you’ve got to be sick of that. You must be ready for some pizza.”
This one is tricky because you run the risk of being right. If that happens you might not be annoying at all. It’s a 50/50 shot.
AN ALTERNATIVE: Ask them a question. Allow meal time to be connected to more than food. Have a conversation about what foods they miss and recognize that it could be something they missed while they were away (and can’t wait to dig into) or something they are missing as they return.
SIX: ASK, “HOW WAS THAT?”
That’s it. One simple question. It’s like magic.
“Wow, Zimbabwe for 12 years . . . how was that?”
Then stand there and watch them try to summarize ALL of the joy and pain before you lose interest. They LITERALLY CANNOT do it.
Classic.
Want to take it to the next level? Check out number seven.
But first.
AN ALTERNATIVE: Ask smaller questions that leave room for nuance. Find out about a typical day in their lives, their struggles with language or what community was like. Don’t expose your disinterest by expecting a full synopsis of the whole experience so you can get back to the snack table.
SEVEN: START THE NEXT SENTENCE WITH, “OH THAT’S JUST LIKE”
This works best if you cut them off mid-sentence.
“Oh wow, 12 years in Zimbabwe, that’s just like when I went to Mexico for a week.”
They don’t even have to say anything. You can almost feel it in their furrowed brow, “umm . . . no . . . it’s really not.”
AN ALTERNATIVE: Lean in. Be interested. Wait for the answer and then (this part is revolutionary) ask ANOTHER question. Fight the urge to one-up their experience with yours and all in good time, share your stories too.
EIGHT: HIGHLIGHT THE AWKWARD
“Homecomers” do weird stuff.
Nonsense stuff.
Confusing, like “what the heck?” stuff.
If you really want to get under their skin — shine the spotlight on that. Draw attention to the crazy, uncharacteristic things they do.
AN ALTERNATIVE: Be a safe haven. Be the one friend who understands that part of their life doesn’t make sense right now. Stand in the gap between them and the others who just don’t get it.
NINE: SHAME POUNCING
This one takes a little bit of patience but you can do it. Stalk them quietly and when the time comes . . . attack like a black panther.
It’s basically inevitable that your returning friend will begin the bulk of their sentences with, “When I was in Thailand” or “In Brazil we . . . ”
Let this go on for awhile. Let the tension build until you just can’t stand it anymore and you know that the moment is just right.
And then . . . cut loose.
“DUDE!!! YOU ARE NOT IN BRAZIL ANYMORE!! LOOK AROUND!! DO YOU SEE BRAZIL?!! ANYWHERE?!! NO?!! THEN STOP TALKING ABOUT BRAZIL!!!”
AN ALTERNATIVE: Recognize that ALL of the last section of their life was defined by their time away. The frame of reference that they have comes from that place. Part of them is still there. Give them space for that to be ok and use that as an opportunity to get a glimpse into that part of their lives.
TEN: SAY NOTHING
Here’s the clincher. Get’s them EVERY SINGLE time.
Don’t say anything. Don’t ask about their lives abroad. Don’t inquire about their stories. Just ignore that part of their life and pretend like ZERO time has elapsed. Just be glad they’re back and watch the game.
That’s enough, isn’t it?
You probably won’t even see that this one is working. They seldom voice their frustration. Rarely beg to be heard.
But trust me . . . it will eat them alive.
AN ALTERNATIVE: Say something. Ask questions. Hear their stories. Dig deep. Let them fall apart.
Readjustment is a phase. It doesn’t last forever and it’s rarely what it looks like on the surface. These steps are 100%, money back guaranteed to annoy, frustrate, irritate and drive your long, lost, homecoming loved ones absolutely mad.
OR
You could consider the alternatives. Choose well.
Going “home”? Send this ahead — You can’t expect them to know already.
Welcoming someone back? Think it through. It’s going to be good.
International travel is one of the great perks of a global life. There is nothing quite like stepping across a border for the first time and soaking up the sights, sounds, and smells of an old, old place that is brand new to you. I absolutely love that I was born into the most globally accessible time in the history of the world.
I love the airplanes and the airports.
I love the unbeaten paths.
I love the tourist traps.
I love the fancy-schmancy, far too expensive cuisine.
I love the cheap, nasty deep-fried street food.
And the people. Don’t get me started.
I absolutely LOVE every part of the adventure of exploring the world.
All of it. As much as possible. For the rest of my life.
AND . . .
Bad things happen.
Those two realities do not (can not) exist apart from each other and they will never cancel each other out. Bad things are a sobering and very real part of everything great about world travel. However, things like safety and common sense don’t have to suck the joy out of trotting the globe.
On the contrary, the world is much more fun apart from bad things.
So for my fellow explorers, thrill seekers, wanderlusters, and risk takers . . .
HERE ARE FIVE QUICK TIPS FOR A SAFER (and more exciting) ADVENTURE
ONE: NEVER TRAVEL ALONE
Lost you already? Hear me out.
First — It is ALWAYS better to be with someone when you travel. End of sermon.
When that is not possible you should NEVER, EVER be somewhere where NO ONE knows you are. EVER.
Share your itinerary with a friend, family member or colleague.
Stay connected while you travel.
If you’re going offline (even for a little bit) let someone, somewhere know where you will be AND when you will be back online.
Consider an app like GPS Trax Viewer or My Tracks which allow you to track your movement using the GPS on your smartphone even if you are not online
Especially if you are traveling in a high-risk area, consider an actual GPS tracker.
It’s an information age. As you are Googling up on sites to see and food to eat, at least get a basic overview of the typical threats and risk – not for the sake of paranoia — just for the sake of traveling with your eyes open. Learn about the place you’re going before you go AND what other travelers do to be safe.
Even a simple Google search or a glance at Wikipedia will give you some broad stroke insight.
SPECIAL NOTE: If your employer or organization is an International SOS member, educate yourself in their services. Groups like this offer SO MUCH assistance from threat levels, to translation services to emergency response.
THREE: LISTEN TO THE LOCALS
Tourists (and even seasoned world travelers) are notorious for “knowing better” than the locals. It’s easy to come into a new (to you) country with an attitude of disbelief and arrogance. If these people would just listen to you, you could fix their entire country.
Here’s the thing — write this down — If YOU are new, THEY are not the ignorant ones.
Not only will you do damage relationally and feed the stereotypes about foreigners, you will put yourself at unnecessary risk by not tuning in to what locals tell you.
Obey the Laws
Learn the customs
Follow the signs
Read the cues
Find a trusted friend and ask a million questions
If it feels wrong, or frustrating or stupid, guess what . . . it’s probably not them.
Traveling increases the risk of loss. Theft. Damage. Being so excited about the fast pace and the next thing that you leave your expensive DSLR Canon EOS 5D sitting under the seat of your plane to Xian, China (not that that has ever happened to me).
If you absolutely NEED it, take it. If you don’t — don’t.
Smartphone cameras are better than ever — Consider leaving the camera at home.
Don’t take credit cards that you won’t be using.
If you take cash spread it out.
Leave your computer at home if possible.
If not back up all of your files.
Password protect.
Remove anything you don’t want a thief to have access to.
Things get stolen and lost. They just do. As you pack consider the implications for each item. Worth the risk? Pack it.
FIVE: GADGET UP
This sounds like the opposite of simplifying but it’s actually not. Consider taking simple, cheap, highly portable items that decrease risk instead of heavy, expensive ones that would be disastrous if lost.
Here’s the good news. There have never been more resources to keep you safe. A few simple and very mobile gidgets and gadgets can greatly increase your safety and your peace of mind. For example:
Explorers are risk takers . . . everyone else stays at home. That’s what adds value to the adventure and guarantees a great memory. It’s a mistake, though, to think that risk-taking means ignoring safety. When you are out of your element you are not seeing the full picture. When you are not a local you are traveling with tunnel vision.
Travel with your eyes wide open and have a great trip.
My name is Jerry and I live in China where I sometimes have “Bad China Days.”
That’s a common phrase among the foreigners (like me) who live around here. It’s a catch-all defense that covers a multitude of frustrating moments, petty annoyances, cross-cultural irritations and, quite honestly, bad behaviors.
“Geesh, what’s wrong with Bob? He just bit my head off.”
“Yeah, he’s having a bad China day.”
“Ohhh. Ok then. That makes sense.”
Here’s the thing.
I don’t ever recall having a “Bad America Day.”
For context – I was born, raised and have spent the highest percentage of my life in the United States. BY FAR I have had more terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days on that side of the ocean than I have on this one.
I once (in the United States) peed my pants as a TEN year old three hours before it was time to go home from school.
THAT was a bad day.
I once (in the United States) burned down 2 acres of my father’s property because I was playing with fire on the same day that I found out I had failed Algebra and would be ineligible to play basketball (which I loved) unless I went to summer school.
That was a REALLY bad day.
I once (in the United States) rode a horse into a tree limb which knocked me out cold and when I woke up I was sharing a hospital room with a sixth-grade psychopath who threw orange peels at the television and suggested we sneak out of our room after hours, steal some syringes and stick them in the people next door.
I wish I was exaggerating.
That was a surreally bad day.
I went through puberty in the United States, for crying out loud.
That was like at least a thousand really, really bad days but I never . . . not once . . . ever referred to any of them, no matter how miserable, as a “Bad America Day.”
Nope . . . back there, we just called it a bad day.
Host Blaming is what happens when people who are living cross-culturally go looking for a single culprit to hold responsible for any and all of their frustrations and find that the lowest hanging fruit, the easiest target, and the one-stop solution is their host country.
Blame it on (insert your country here) and it all makes sense.
It comes in different flavors.
“Kicking the dog” for example is what happens when you are actually frustrated with your boss or your spouse but you know better than to pick that fight. Choosing not to be jobless or sleep on the couch you look for the lower risk outlet.
Blame it on the country . . . they won’t even understand you anyway.
“Paranoid Drama-Queening” happens when you take the legitimate, standard, practically universal challenges of cross-cultural life and treat them as if they are ONLY happening to you and then presume that the whole country and each of its citizens is conspiring against you.
“Why can’t you understand me?!! I know I’m saying it right!!!”
“STOP STARING AT ME!!!”
“Hyper Pluralizing” happens when you blame an entire country for the offense of a few. It’s generally marked by words like . . .
“THEY ALWAYS ” or “THEY NEVER ” or “SHEESH! WHY DON’T THEY JUST LEARN HOW TO”
“THEY” is the operative word.
Been there?
Me too.
And sometimes . . . it’s just a bad day . . . but you still blame the country.
THREE QUICK THOUGHTS
ONE: Host Blaming Drives a Wedge
Here’s the thing. Host Blaming is usually passive. Snarky. Under our breath or between sympathetic foreign friends who are also having bad local days. Most of us don’t walk right up to our host countries and say, “YOU! You are the source of ALL MY PAIN!!”
So how does it drive a wedge if they don’t even know we’re blaming them?
Answer . . . one interaction at a time. We take the easier option. We engage a little less. We assume a little quicker. We avoid a little more. We withdraw without even thinking.
That changes nothing instantly . . . but over time we walk a different path . . . and a different path leads to a different place.
TWO: Host Blaming is Natural
PAUSE — Before you cut and paste that into Twitter.
Laziness . . . is also natural. So are arrogance, selfishness and stupidity.
Lots of things comes naturally but sometimes that can mean “worth the effort to do differently.”
THREE: Host Connection is Intentional
Believe it or not, this is not an Expat Shaming post.
“Look at the pompous, bubble-bound outsiders who barge in insisting that everyone be more like them!! Jerks!”
There are plenty of those posts out there.
On the contrary, if we’re asking for a show of hands . . . I’ll raise both of mine first. I slip into host blaming over and over. It’s subtle and sneaky. It’s nuanced and not always clear when I’m doing it.
What I’m discovering is that if blaming is natural then CONNECTION MUST BE INTENTIONAL.
It’s not natural to allow for personality instead of stereotyping — but look around — THEY is too big of a word.
It’s not natural to say, “there’s probably more to this” — but your mind will be blown if you do.
It’s not natural to say, “I might be the one who is wrong here” — so start there and see what happens.
It’s not natural NOT to blame. So do whatever it takes to choose connection instead.
A better choice leads to a better next step. Better steps lead down a better path. A better path leads to a better place.
How about you? Are you a host blamer? Show of hands.
This one takes a little bit of patience but you can do it. Stalk them quietly and when the time comes . . . attack like a black panther.
