Jan 25, 2016 |
Ironically, this post is based entirely on an outright assumption.
My assumption is this. If crossing cultures is a part of your life then you probably have some comprehension of the things that prevent you from doing that well. You don’t need a blog to tell you that mockery (for example) is going to slow you down if you’re really trying grasp the heart and soul of a people group that is different from your own.
Let’s get honest — it doesn’t mean you don’t mock. The cheap laugh. The sarcastic wisecrack. The overstated accent. We’ve all gone there at some point but generally speaking we know it’s not a good thing. You’ll find very few blogs that defend mockery as a mechanism to thrive as an expat.
Plenty of them that mock. Few that defend it.
There are numerous other attackers of the healthy expat life. Obvious ones like racism (no-brainer there), arrogance, stereotyping, ethnocentrism, name-calling. How about crawling into a hole and hiding from reality? That’s one. Maybe screaming “SPEAK ENGLISH!!” at people who don’t know how. Not a best practice.
Nothing new there.
These are the super villains — the arch-enemies of understanding a culture that is different from your own. I’m assuming you know that already — BUT — in fairness, assuming should probably go on the list.
Ohhh the irony. Let’s roll with that.
This is a list of the lesser obvious bad guys. These are the culprits that you don’t see coming. They blend in with the best practices and sometimes they even share the same names. However, in their sneaky, subtle ways they often cause more trouble than the big ones.
These are the ironic enemies of living cross-culturally
(count-down style for dramatic effect)
Enemy # 5: Grinning
We’ve established mockery as a bad thing right? Usually expats (following a period of adjustment) develop an instinctively visceral reaction to blatant, full on mockery of their host culture.
I, for example, grow Wolverine claws when the “hilarious”, self-proclaimed comedians from my own culture pop off with something like, “OOOHHHH you go to China? Ah ching chang willy willy bing bang bong.”
Trust me. It happens.
Expats (at least the healthy ones) move past mockery. However — sometimes the remnants remain.
It comes in the form a tiny little grin — a raised eyebrow — a silent head shake — an under the breath giggle (or sometimes a snort). Often it’s a shared moment of eye contact with someone who knows exactly what you’re saying in your head even though you didn’t say a word out loud. It’s micro-mockery and chances are it is much less externally damaging than it’s full grown form. Unfortunately, internally it’s fueled from the same source — a betterness complex and a sense of cultural superiority.
Bonus tip: Judge your ownself. Apart from time and relationship there is no weapon that works against mockery except the “awkward juke of shame”.
“You know guys, I just really don’t feel like that kind of talk is appropriate.”
That will stop Mr. Ching Chang dead in his tracks but it won’t change his heart. He just learned that he can’t make that joke around you . . . because you are hypersensitive. Try starting by being aware of where your own grins are coming from and model something different.
Enemy #4: Progress
Cross-cultural progress is a wild ride. I have a reputable source who says I am not the only one who set goals on the front end of my expat experience which turned out to be tantamount to a typical New Year’s resolution. Dropped cold by week three.
The consequence is a feeling (somewhere along the line) that we have failed miserably as expats.
“I thought I would be fluent by now and I can only order three dishes.”
“I planned to have great relationships and I haven’t even met my neighbors.”
“I was so ready to go exploring and I’ve barely left my apartment.”
We’re stuck with a depressing sense that we have made zero progress — UNTIL — someone comes to visit from our previous life.
IT IS AWESOME!
In one trip to the airport we transform into some kind of an expat superstar. The last time you saw these people you were at exactly the same level of linguistic fluency and cultural savvy. Now look at you. You’re practically a local.
So you see, progress can leave you delusional on both ends. You mistake yourself for a miserable failure or a colossal success based on a misguided assessment of what progress is supposed to look like.
Bonus Tip: Slow and steady wins the race. Progress (of course) is not an inherently bad thing but it doesn’t function well in extremes. Your benchmark is not the people who know nothing anymore than it is the people who know everything. Keep moving forward.
Enemy #3: High Praise
It’s been nearly ten years since we first moved to China. I must have ridden in a thousand taxis. That means that 900 plus taxi drivers have told me how great my Chinese is.
It’s really not.
Generally I lead with something simple like, “ni hao” which means “hello”. To which they say “WAAAH!! You’re Chinese is SO good!”
To which I say, “why thank you — I have been working on my ‘hello’.”
I know that not all expat experiences are like my China one but often a misunderstanding of cultural obligations surrounding hospitality combined with low expectations of the foreigners (like myself) result in a sort of surface level accolade that is easily mistaken by the dolt foreigner (like myself) as a fair and accurate assessment. “These people love me and wish they could be more like me!”
Sounds ridiculous but it’s not far from spot on.
Living in a highly complimentary host culture is not a bad gig if you can get it. However, the really good stuff is below the surface. Expats who set up camp in a La La Land of “They love me” miss the joy of genuine relationship. It’s a painful moment, though, when the Emperor discovers he’s not wearing clothes.
Bonus Tip: Ask double third person questions. Don’t ask your friends what they think of you. Ask them what their friends think of other foreigners — then assume that’s what they think of you. Brace yourself. You may be naked.
Enemy #2: Asking “WHY?”
Some of the best advice I ever got came from a veteran expat who told me to stop asking “why”.
My first response was knee jerk . . . “Seriously? Why?”
“Why” is the core. It is the source. It is the deep-rooted nucleus of everything that is happening around you. It is often ancient at it’s origins but complexified by hundreds, maybe thousands of years of socio-cultural events, political uprisings, economic trends, religious undertones and philosophical masterminds. Not to mention every “why” has a different answer — a different source — a different nucleus.
“Why do they eat with sticks?”
“Why do they rub noses?
“Why do they slam the ball into the ground, scream at the sky and punch each other when they score?”
The first assumption when you ask “why” is that the person whom you have asked actually knows the answer. The second assumption is that once you have heard it, you do too. Asked and answered is far too simple a process for nuclear topics.
Why should you not ask why? (are you following the irony here?). Because you can’t handle the why. That’s why.
Be a constant inquisitor but ask “who, what, when, where, how?” “Why” will become clearer over time.
Bonus tip: If you must ask “why” commit to asking it 100 times. Don’t accept that the first answer is the full one. Pile a hundred partially correct answers together, though, and you’ll start to get the picture. You’ll also realize how big the question is.
AND the #1 (ironic) enemy of living cross culturally . . . drum roll please
Enemy #1: Grace
If you have ever read anything that I have written you’re likely calling me a big fat hypocrite right now.
You are freakishly observant.
Grace is a theme for me. I have held it out there as a key (if not THE key) to thriving in practically every aspect of cross-cultural life (if not life in general).
See for yourself . . .
Leaving Well
Landing Well
Staying Well
Receiving Well
Going Nowhere
I’m like a broken record and I’m not taking it back — but I’ve noticed something about myself.
I am great at extending grace . . . selectively.
Here’s an example: I am quick to give grace to my Chinese friends if they say something that could sound offensive.
“Meh — it’s cultural. They probably don’t know any better.”
However — When my friends back home (the ones who look, talk, think and act like me) say something equally offensive (“ching chang” for example) I am disproportionately slower to allow grace into the equation.
“Idiots. They should know better.”
This is where it stings a little. My selective grace — my harshness towards my own — is actually an expression of my own betterness complex.
“My people should know better than the poor, uninformed others.”
Don’t read me wrong. I’m NOT suggesting that you should give less grace to your host culture. Please don’t. Nor am I suggesting that you should let Mr. Ching Chang entirely off the hook. You can play that one by ear.
I may not even be suggesting anything but what I have recognized in myself is that when there is a disparity in my willingness to give grace it may be a result of some uncovered, yet to be dealt with prejudice.
In other words — when I’m pointing out one group’s prejudice and ignoring another’s . . . I’m revealing my own.
Ouch.
Bonus Tip: Cultures are not just foreign. It helps to recognize that “my people” have a culture too. A rich and imperfect history. A deep and misguided understanding of the world. A vast set of presuppositions built on centuries of shared experiences.
There they are. The sneaky. The subtle. The ironic enemies of living cross-culturally.
Now you know and “Knowledge is Power”.
Ironically “knowledge” should probably be on the list since once you think you know something you stop trying to understand it.
Ohh the irony. Let’s stop there.
Something to add? Ironic enemy # 6? #7? #8? Comment below and pass it on.
Jan 13, 2016 |
In the expatosphere we tend to focus on the bookends of our cross-cultural experience. Starting well. Ending well. Moving on.
Between Stayers, Goers and Newbies the Stayers tend to get the least attention. But the space between the bookends are where the books are.
The time between landing and leaving is where the real story is. The adventure. The tension. The characters. The conflict. The resolution. The tragedy and the comedy. It’s all in the books but transition resources disproportionately target the bookends.
Fair enough. Bookends are important. Without them the books fall over.
Too metaphorical?
Starting your cross-cultural experience well AND ending it well matters — a lot — BUT the whole point of starting well is SO you can STAY well and leaving well is really hard when the whole experience has been a mess.
We lean towards the mentality that transition only happens when we cram all of our earthly possessions into plastic tubs and fly off into the sunset but it doesn’t take an expat long to figure out that the TRANSITION NEVER STOPS.
Read “The Transition That Never Ends: The ongoing cycle of expat Stayers, Goers and Newbies” for more about that.
For those of you who are going nowhere but your world never stops moving — here are some tips that I have found helpful but let’s be real here . . . we’re not even going the scratch the surface of Staying Well in one blog post. Don’t hold back — we need your wisdom.
1. Keep your CORE door open
Here’s an all too typical scenario — As a Newby you show up wide eyed and set for the adventure of a lifetime. The veterans roll their eyes at your naiveté and unseasoned enthusiasm. It’s awkward BUT you find your way. You make a friend. And another. Maybe two more and it is so good. You connect and do life together as bumbling foreigners who really enjoy each other. You’re cordial with everyone but you’ve found your Core group. Time passes.
Wide eyed newbies come and you roll your eyes at their naiveté and unseasoned enthusiasm.
Then it happens. The first of your Core breaks the news. Moving on. Then another. Then two more.
This may all happen over the course of years but if you’re planning to be a Stayer, Goers are going to be a part of your reality. You can brace for it but if you’ve closed the door to your Core it’s just a matter of time before you’re lonely and left out. Chances are you’ll become a Goer yourself.
Look at the Newbies. The veterans. The other Stayers. Who could you really connect with that you have not yet?
2. Build trust with people who aren’t leaving
With a few beautiful exceptions expats aren’t lifers. They come and they go.
Expats, however, are not the only characters in your story. Building deep, lasting friendships with local people is a brilliant move towards staying well. The friendship alone would be worth it but the insight gained is pure gold. Close local friends open a window to your host culture that is otherwise bolted shut.
- You can learn a lot from the other expats but it will always come from a foreigner’s perspective.
- You can also learn a lot from local acquaintances but you’ll likely get the version that is safe for foreigners.
- When you’ve got a bonafide non-foreign friend you get access to a whole new world of understanding. Real heart stuff. Opinions, perspectives and information that you assumed you already understood but found out you were WAY off.
No doubt, those relationships can be more challenging, especially when language differences and deep cultural gaps are a reality. Cross-cultural relationships require boatloads of intentionality. They take longer to establish and (in many cases) may not be nearly as established as you think they are. Not to mention you may learn truths that are hard to know. It’s not easy but it is good.
Take your time. Build trust. Be trustworthy. You have so much to learn.
3. Reboot your sense of wonder
Remember when you got off the plane? Wide eyed. Confident. So ready.
You were primed for the adventure. Couldn’t wait to study a new language, explore a new culture and dive head first into the magnificent unknown.
What the heck happened?
I can answer that for you. You discovered reality, that’s what happened. You figured out how to make life normal again and in the process you found out that your new normal looks almost nothing like the high culture stereotypes that you came in with. Your grand adventure includes laundry, dishes and binge watching sitcoms.
Don’t feel bad. Misinformed, awestruck wonder is rarely sustainable. Honeymoons don’t last forever.
Informed wonder, on the other hand — that’s where it gets good. Now that your eyes are opened to what real life looks like, why not reboot and re-engage. Learn the history of your host culture. Study the art, the architecture, the current events. Learn a song, a dance, a poem, a story. Take a trip, eat something painfully local. Go back to the adventure but do it all fully aware that you need to do a load of whites before you go to bed.
What are three things that you used to be excited about but haven’t thought of for a long time?
4. Break out of “Expert Survivor” mode
Expats are phenomenal survivors. Foreign life can be tough at first, especially if there is a language barrier but we’ve got to eat right? So we instinctively sniff out the restaurants with picture menus. We memorize the names of our five favorite dishes. We become masters of charades and don’t mind flapping our arms or clucking out loud in a crowded McDonalds to get a chicken sandwich.
Even if language is not an issue, as outsiders, we tend to find our “go to” spots and our sure fire routines. It’s hard work to discover new things. So when it’s crucial to our survival we work hard but once we’ve figured out how to live comfortably . . . why would we take the hard road?
Survival is an important phase of crossing cultures. It’s all too easy though, to settle for a level of functionality that would make us a laughing stock if we tried to mirror back home (insert mental image of clucking like a chicken at your home town McDondalds).
Stayers though, have an opportunity to go beyond survival. Again, intentionality is key.
Try a risky restaurant or new form of transportation. Try speaking local even when locals speak your language better. Get lost and find your way home.
As a sidenote — if you’re feeling judged here — don’t. I’m doing that thing where most of my fingers are pointing back at me. Makes it hard to typ,,
5. Host a visitor
Going home is nice but bringing home is superb. There is something really rich about seeing someone from your other life in your new world. It’s potentially surreal but it can be so good.
You might find that you instantly go from bumbling foreigner to expert on all things local. Those five dish names that you can pronounce can be easily mistaken for total fluency.
The best part though is the connection. There are galaxies of difference between going home and trying to tell your best expat stories to a friend who really doesn’t want to hear them and walking down the street with a visiting friend who is soaking it all in.
Galaxies.
That connection lasts a long time.
It may be a stretch but make the ask. Get your friends and family on your turf. Plan for a year. Share your frequent flier miles. It’s a great way to level up your relationship.
If you could have a week with anyone from your old life in the context of your new(er) one, who would it be?
6. Translate the REST of your life
Expats too often check significant parts of their lives at the airport. They assume that they can’t do things because it is not instantly obvious how they can. Runners quit running because pollution is too high. Musicians quit playing because they don’t want to carry their equipment all that way. Gardeners quit gardening. Woodworkers quit woodworking. Painters quit painting.
That’s one thing if you’re only doing this for a couple of years. If you’re staying, though, don’t give up hope on maintaining important chunks of your identity. You don’t just run . . . you ARE a runner.
You may be frustrated because you can’t do your hobbies and your habits EXACTLY that way you have always done them.
Fair enough.
So don’t even try to TRANSPLANT them. You can’t. You can, however, TRANSLATE them.
Ask yourself how you can you do your old thing in the context of your new life? Keep in mind that something is always lost in translation. It may look and feel like a different thing at first but don’t leave behind things you love because you’ve assumed that they are no longer possible.
What’s missing? Did you check any part of your life at the airport? Go get it back.
7. Embrace ignorance
Compared to where you started you’re pretty much an international genius. Compared to your people back home your grasp on the politics and culture and customs and mannerisms and all of the intricate nuances of living abroad is incredible. You’ve come a long, long way.
Compared to what you have yet to learn however (no matter how long you’ve been a Stayer) . . .
Yeah.
Don’t feel bad. Being ignorant is not a bad thing unless you think you’re not. If you’re ignorant (and aware of it) you’ve got room to learn. If you’ve found an answer you’re likely to stop looking for one.
That is the biggest challenge for the Stayer. Once you’ve been there for a while you feel like you should know it all.
You don’t. Admit it. Embrace it.
What have your learned the most about your host culture? Re-open the case. Learn something new about the stuff you thought you were an expert in.
8. Emulate the Greats
Look around. Who are the heroes in your story? Who are the Stayers who have stayed well? Who are the high functioning veterans that add life to the expat community, respect and engage the locals and haven’t settled for merely surviving?
Now pick them apart. What is it about them that you want to add to your experience. What are the characteristics, the habits, the intentional behaviors and routines that make them good at being a foreigner.
Do those things.
Name your top three Greats. Seek their wisdom.
9. Process without complaining
Processing and complaining can start with the exact same statement. For example “This is really hard.”
That is a fair and true statement but what you do with it sets you on one of two trajectories that ultimately lead to very different places. Processing the hard stuff is absolutely critical for staying well. Verbalizing the tough realities (as opposed to stuffing them) is a healthy discipline. However complaining (at least habitually) is toxic for you and the people around you.
Here’s the difference.
- Processors want wisdom — Complainers want sympathy.
- Processors are seeking comfort on the other side of the challenge — Complainers are seeking instant release.
- Processors identify the real challenge and work towards a solution — Complainers belittle so the challenge can be ignored.
- Processers enjoy resolution — Complainers are chained to unresolved issues.
- Processors respect local culture even when it doesn’t make sense to them — Complainers mock local culture.
- Processers recognize that they may be a part of the problem — Complainers always blame someone or something else.
- Processors recognize they are ignorant — Complainers pretend they are not.
- Processors attract other processors who are seeking wisdom — Complainers attract other complainers who are seeking validation.
Good news — if you’re realizing you’re a complainer right now you are not alone. We all are at some point. Processing requires discipline (while complaining comes quite naturally). It’s a discipline well worth developing if you want to be a Stayer.
Be brutally honest. Are you a processor or a complainer?
sidenote — If you’re thinking of all the other complainers right now (and how bad they are) — you might be one. Just a thought.
10. Grace, Grace and more Grace
Your expat story is a good one and like all good stories it’s got tension. There are conflicts and complications and hiccups along the way that keep it both interesting and frustrating. The characters range from kindred spirit, life long connections to bumbling villainous idiots whose only role seems to be to irritate the pot out of you.
Stayers — the Great ones — are constant learners even though they already understand more than most. They are incessant listeners even though they have so much to say. They are humble even though their abilities and their accomplishments would outshine everyone around. They are respectful and they stimulate broader respect. They honor their hosts. They inspire their teams. They challenge everyone towards a better option.
More than anything (in my opinion) — they understand that this whole thing doesn’t work without grace.
- Wide-eyed, know-it-all Newbies need grace to become great Stayers.
- Core group Goers need grace to go well and remain life-long friends.
- Locals need grace while you try to figure them out (and vice versa).
- Annoying fellow expats need grace. Period.
- Friends and family back home need grace when they say horribly offensive things about your new friends.
- Processors need grace so they are not mistaken for complainers.
- Complainers need grace to recognize there is a better way.
And what about you?
If you’re planning to be a Stayer — you’re going to need healthy doses of grace. Take some for yourself.
Surface — unscratched. Help us out Stayers. What are your tips for staying well?
Comment below and pass this on.
Nov 9, 2015 |
Expats are big decision makers. It’s what we do. It’s how we roll.
This whole cross cultural experience started with a decision that impacted every aspect of our lives.
“Hey honey, how would you feel about about moving.”
“Ooo — yes. There’s a really cute place over by my mother’s.”
“Yeah . . . I was thinking Zimbabwe.”
And that was the match that lit the fire. There are roughly 36,000 steps between that moment and your first day as a foreigner. I’ve considered writing a book about it but who wants to read that?
“The 36,ooo Steps To Becoming a Highly Effective Expat”
Not me.
Even though BECOMING an expat is a big decision those who do it very quickly discover that BEING an expat is the great decision inflator. Every decision takes up more space. Even the ones that used to be simple . . . like eating food . . . and saying words.
It gets better with time and discovery but expats are no foreigners to making big decisions.
There is ONE big decision however that circles overhead for the duration of our time abroad. It’s the looming question that we all wrestle with in varying degrees and often multiple times over the course of our expatriate lives . . .
When is it time to leave?
For many it’s easily dismissed with a simple “not yet.” For others the decision is out of their control . . .
“Contract’s up, we’re sending you home.”
“Embassy was attacked — everybody out.”
BUT — in any given time zone at any given moment there are thousands of expats grappling with the not so simple question,
“Should I stay or should I go?”
I’ve talked with dozens of these people in the past few weeks and hundreds in the past few years. Here are some of the highlights from those conversations and some things you might consider if you’re one of those expats right now:
1. Deciding to leave is a not an event it is a process
One of the biggest “Aha moments” ever for me was discovering leaving is not about the date on my plane ticket. I’m leaving long before then and continue to leave long after. It’s a process that ramps up (usually for months) to the airplane and then spends months ramping down.
You can read more about that here — Leaving Well: 10 Tips for Repatriating With Dignity
The crazy bit is that the process itself actually encompasses a number of other processes. Deciding to leave is one of those. Announcing that fact is another. Then you can get down to the ongoing process of leaving well.
Reframing your decision as a process cuts you loose from the pressure of needing to know right now. There are a lot of pieces to consider. Slow down. Think it through.
Processing also reminds you that something should be happening now. Telling yourself that you will have a decision by the first of the year is not just postponing the event. You should be in that process between now and then.
2. Embrace the paradox
You’re no stranger to this one. This whole thing has been a paradox from day one.
Crossing cultures is one of the most starkly contradictory experiences life has to offer. It is wonderfully horrible and horribly wonderful and grasping that is key to thriving while abroad. Those who can’t find anything good have a miserable and depressing experience. Those who don’t acknowledge anything bad crash harder than the miserable and depressed ones.
It’s hard — but it’s good.
Leaving is not the exception here. Neither is staying.
The grass may be greener on the other side of the fence but that pasture is not without it’s fair share of weeds or manure.
(Confucius totally should have said that)
Whether you land on staying or going, embrace the paradox in the process. Explore the realities (good and bad) of all angles.
3. Wait until the ride has come to a complete stop
Life cross-cultural can be an emotional roller coaster. If that rings a bell you’re not alone. It is uber common for expats to feel like they want to stay forever on Monday morning and get on the next plane out by Monday afternoon. This is especially common in the first two years but not at all restricted to then. You may have been abroad for years and still go through roller coaster phases.
It’s ok. You’re not abnormal.
BUT — The worst possible time to get off of a roller coaster is in the middle of the ride.
Fight the urge to make a decision while you can’t seem to make a decision. Barring other external circumstances you’re probably better off staying in your seat and screaming for a bit.
Just so we’re clear. If you can’t choose between staying or going . . . stay. Ride it out. Don’t go and then wonder if you should have stayed.
4. Don’t confuse cancer for high crime
“I’m not sure this is a healthy environment for me.”
I’ve heard this sentence (and probably said it) more than once. Sometimes it’s legit. Maybe there is something truly toxic, abusive or threatening that is pushing you to consider leaving. Understandable. You can move on to the next point.
However, 97% (I made up that statistic to emphasize my point) of the time this sentence describes tough relationships. A demanding leader. A gossipy team. A lack of friends.
Here’s a metaphor. You can learn to live in a high crime area (much of the world does) even if that’s not where you’re from. You do have to make some major life adjustments that are based on applying wisdom to hard truths. HOWEVER — No matter how much wisdom you apply, your chances of survival in a bad neighborhood go down dramatically . . . if you have cancer and don’t treat it.
The moral of this story? No matter where you live there is no guarantee of affirming leaders, non-gossipy teams and super friends (the community type not the Wonder Twin type). Don’t run from an “unhealthy” place. Get healthy.
Then you can go anywhere.
5. Don’t overestimate your contribution
Sometimes people stay because things would fall apart if they left.
They don’t though . . . fall apart that is . . . when they leave.
Generally speaking (and of course there are always exceptions) cross-cultural endeavors are built to absorb the shock of transience. People come and people go. It doesn’t mean you won’t be missed. That’s a different issue.
Steve Jobs died.
I just typed that on my Mac which is plugged into my iPhone.
See what I’m saying? This thing will go on without you and yet, you are still important.
6. Don’t go (or stay) . . . on a guilt trip
“You’re leaving because you met someone on eHarmony? Wow. Shallow.”
“Aunt Bessie was asking about you. She’s probably not gonna’ be around long.”
“I came here to help people. I can’t imagine going home when so many people are hurting. Maybe you can . . . but I can’t.”
“People are hurting here at home too. They sure could use somebody like you.”
Pause. You know that these people . . . these well meaning people love you, right? They do — and they speak (almost usually) out of that love. It’s important that you start there.
Guilt, however, is a terrible decision driver. You can listen respectfully. You can also add every valid observation from noble-intentioned friends and family to the 4 billion other factors that you need to consider as you process your choice.
If you decide based on guilt though, you’ll never get away from it.
7. Be painfully honest
People who yearn for something become expert justifiers to get it. When those people interact with others (especially friends and family) on the subject of their yearning, the pressure builds. There is a compulsion to block, even the most legitimate, questions and objections.
SO — we find trump cards and shut the conversation down cold.
“It’s what’s best for my family.”
“My doctor says it would be better.”
“My kids really needs this.”
“I just know this is God’s will right now.”
ALL of these are great, valid, viable reasons to stay or go — that’s not the point. The point is that it takes some painfully honest introspection to discern whether these are REALLY your reasons — OR — you have discovered and defaulted to the one answer that no can argue with?
Don’t guard yourself from the tough questions and objections. Instead let those be the refining part of your decision process.
8. Consider option A.5?
If A is stay and B is go . . . is there anything else? Something in between maybe?
Sometimes we box ourselves into a two option scenario. While you are processing, why not wander around and explore outside of the box.
- Could you stay and take on a different role?
- Can you move laterally within the same organization?
- Is there another expat opportunity available? A different country? New opportunity?
- Do you just need a break to recharge? What are your options for that?
- Could you do an extended visit home? A sabbatical? A year off?
Possible? Not possible?
That’s the point of exploring. You may be surprised to discover an option that you hadn’t dreamed of. You may find that there actually are only options A and B.
Either way — it’s worth some thought.
9. Lay a solid brick?
Expats are almost never pillars of their community. They don’t stay long enough for that and even if they stayed for 50 years their communities would change dozens of times around them.
Transient people are more like brick layers. Your life will look like a big brick wall. Chase this metaphor with me for a minute.
When you’re building a brick wall EVERY single brick is important. One sandy, mushy brick and I can poke a hole in your wall. Two or three and the whole structure is compromised.
Here are some things that cause mushy bricks:
- The wrong materials in your brick.
- Your brick didn’t set long enough to get hard.
- You moved on to the next brick before you finished laying the one you were on.
Ask yourself (and be painfully honest again) — is the brick you are laying right now solid?
Have you engaged? Gone deep? Added value to the place where you are?
Have you stayed long enough?
Have you already checked out?
10. Build your processing list
Deciding to stay or go is a process. We covered that right?
So what are you processing? I mean besides those two choices. What are the factors? The variables? The consequences? The benefits? The challenges?
If you try to process without slowing down you’re bound to miss something.
Try this.
Set your timer for 2 minutes. Grab a pen and paper. Mark it “STAY” then divide it into “PROS” and “CONS”
For 2 minutes (and 2 minutes only) write as many Pros to Staying as you can possibly come up with. Don’t think. Just write.
GO!
Now do two minutes for “Cons”.
Now do the same for “Going Pros” and “Going Cons”
You’ll be surprised what comes out and you’re likely to discover that you can produce a lot more in 8 intensely focused minutes than you can in 8 hours bouncing back and forth.
STOP — Remember that this exercise is NOT about making your decision. It’s about building your list of things to process. Don’t just look at which list is longer. Some of these things are weighted more heavily than others. Try rating them 1-5 to get some perspective on which sides are heavier.
Again. Don’t think. Just rate.
You’re still not there. Spend some time with your lists. Make connections. Draw lines and circles and stars and smiley faces. Make notes about the pieces that seem to be really significant — good or bad. What are the themes?
Learn something about yourself.
When you’re finished you should have a much clearer picture of what you need to spend time processing.
11. Seek wisdom
This one is simple.
This is a big decision. Don’t just read a blog. Find people you trust and invite them into your process.
12. Is it time?
I have had hundreds of one on one conversations with people who are either leaving or leaning that direction.
I try my hardest to shake them up. Throw them a loop. Make them consider something that they haven’t yet. I don’t try to change their minds I just push them to think it through . . . all the way.
In all of those conversations there have been a handful who are absolutely unshakeable and they have all responded with a nearly identical answer.
“It’s time.”
That’s it. They don’t justify their answer. They don’t defend their thinking. There is no shakiness in their voice.
They just know. They have found the wisdom that they went looking for and the peace that may not even make sense to them. They’ve been through the process and they speak with absolute confidence.
“It’s time.”
If you can’t say that honestly . . . not as a trump card but with absolute conviction — then it probably means one of two things:
- It’s not time
- You’ve got some processing to do
Grab a pen.
These are just a few things I learned from a bunch of great expats. There is so much more to learn.
What have you learned?
Share your wisdom in the comments below.
Pass this on to your processing friends.
Nov 3, 2015 |
I hate June.
There is a reason for that.
Where I live people come and go . . . a lot. That’s the part that they don’t put in the brochure when you move abroad . . .
“Adventure of a lifetime — Explore exotic lands! Learn new languages! Say goodbye to 20% of your friends every summer and random others throughout the year!”
Sign here.
It is a big painful part of the expat experience though. Transition that is. Not the expected ones like “culture shock”, bumbling language mistakes and system conversions. We saw those coming from a mile away (1.60934 kilometers). We read books and blogs about those. Some of us even went to seminars and conferences about how to “transition well”. There is no small bit of attention paid to the beginning phases of life as a foreigner. There is also a growing bit of attention surrounding the ending phases — leaving well, saying goodbye, repatriating, reverse culture shock and so on.
Not knocking that since . . . you know . . . I wouldn’t have a job without it.
BUT . . .
Here’s the kicker: As long as you live abroad — TRANSITION NEVER STOPS.
Ever.
The big ones on either end are significant to be sure but it’s the little ones in the middle that will get you. The incessant ones. The ongoing ones. The cyclical shifts and annual flip flops that never stop and that you never saw coming. There are many, but by far, the most daunting (at least where I live) is the revolving, evolving community of people.
We are Stayers, Goers and Newbies figuring out life things together. The Stayers don’t stay forever. The Goers don’t go immediately. The Newbies need some time to adjust.
If coming and going only impacted June I think it would be manageable. If it was just a matter of saying the inevitable goodbyes, we could wrap our heads around it and brace for the annual Expat Exodus.
If it looked like this it would still be hard but doable . . .
But it doesn’t.
It actually looks more like this . . .
So it makes sense really.
That I’m thinking about June in November.
Now is the time when people (my friends) are making decisions. Stay or Go? Another contract or move on?
The announcements have already started to trickle in and there will be more and more in the next few months. I have now been a Stayer, a Goer and a Newby all more than once. I have done them all fairly well and all pretty pathetically. Here are a few things I’m learning in the process.
Everyone is at risk.
Stayers are at risk
When Stayers stop engaging Newbies (because saying goodbye to Goers is too painful) the clock starts ticking. It is a matter of time before the community will grow up behind them and they will be the ones trying to break in . . . or going. Continued connection is key.
Goers are at risk
Mental and emotional shifts begin long before the physical ones. Once announcements are made the community changes even though no one has flown away yet. Stayers and Newbies start figuring out what life looks like without the Goer and adjust accordingly. Goers check out. The chemistry of those two things can make for some explosive reactions. Intentionality is key.
Newbies are at risk
Newbies lend fresh eyes and fabulous new ideas to stagnant and stressed environments — often before they have developed the relational capital to be heard.
“HEY GUYS . . . You’re a sorry mess!! Where I come from this is how we did it and that would fix every last one of you and all of your problems!! How bout’ we try it?!?!”
“I’m Bob by the way.”
In short, Newbies may see what’s wrong before anyone is ready to listen. Stayers get annoyed. Goers continue checking out and chuckle because it’s not their problem. Patience is key.
Everyone has something unique to give.
Stayers give stability
Stayers have less of an unhealthy attachment to their suitcases than either Goers (who are packing) or Newbies (who are un). Stayers, although always in transition, have the solidity of NOT changing everything. No global trekking. No new job. No figuring out where to buy cucumbers. They may not feel stable but in this scenario they are privileged with a lesser instability. If you’re a Stayer consider watching the Goer’s children while they pack or showing the Newbies where the cucumbers are.
Goers give understanding
For Goers, going is the most consuming thing in their lives. Fair enough. It’s a big deal. For Stayers, the going of the Goers may be a big deal, but is not generally all consuming. Goers who have expectations (active or passive) that Stayers will drop everything to be consumed by their six month departure are failing to see the broader picture. There are ALWAYS Goers. Understanding that will actually help Goers AND Stayers plan focused, intentional quality farewell time.
Newbies give humility
It can be really frustrating to step into a community of Stayers who just lost their best Goers. That frustration only grows when you can clearly see problems and the Stayers are still figuring you out. Starting as a learner is genuinely the deciding factor between those who do this well and those who do not. Listen first. Learn. Ask a billion questions. Not because you don’t know anything but because you don’t know everything. Give the Stayers the respect they’ve earned from staying and the space to adjust to another round of new. Soon you’ll be on the other side.
Selfishness doesn’t work.
Selfish Stayers protect themselves from the Goers and commit to not getting hurt by Newbies (consequently hurting the Newbies).
Selfish Goers check out on the Stayers and leave a mess for the Newbies.
Selfish Newbies learn nothing from the Stayers and don’t recognize they’ve stepped into a Goer shaped hole.
It’s hard because it’s good.
It’s hard to be a Stayer when everyone around you is coming and going. The only way to make it easier is to stop connecting with people. Stop going deep. Stop making friends. Then the coming and going is not so hard . . . and the Staying is not so good.
It’s hard to be a Goer. Period. But having a global network of deep, deep friendships . . . that’s pretty cool. The process of going can be stressful but it is also your chance to firm up relationships that won’t be broken by distance or time.
It’s hard to be a Newby but trust me . . . this is truly the opportunity of a lifetime. Stayers may be standoffish at first — that’s because it’s good. They may have just let go of their Goers.
Are you a Stayer, a Goer or a Newby?
What does your never ending transition look like?
What have you learned along the way?
Oct 3, 2015 |
Dear Expat,
Let’s be honest. You are weird. No offense.
It’s not a bad thing. You’re just — what’s that word? — odd. No matter where in the world you go, you don’t quite fit. You’re a foreigner where you live and a visitor where you’re from.
You’re weird. Just own it.
HOWEVER.
There is a parallel truth that you should know about. It’s not at all separate from your weirdness. In contrast it actually works in perfect tandem. No matter how odd you feel — how isolated from the regulars — how awkward or confident — how inferior or superior — how irritated or excited — how incompetent or smooth — how close to the edge of the cliff or on top of the mountain you are . . .
YOU ARE NORMAL.
It’s true. Write it down. Soak in it. No matter what’s going on inside of you — you are far from alone.
The numbers don’t lie . . .
According to the U.N. (who make a it a point to know things like this) there are roughly 232 million earthlings who live outside of their home country. That means if expats were to declare themselves a sovereign state they would instantly knock off Brazil for the fifth most populated nation in the world.
Brazil would be ticked.
First major conflict. Way to go Expats.
Point is this. There are many more like you. Many.
They’re everywhere. IN every country and FROM every country — and were we to actually form a country of our own it would be the most politically, ethnically, racially, religiously, economically, educationally and linguistically diverse that the world has ever seen — but we would be united by one feature — we are all outsiders. Different — but far from alone.
If only numbers did the trick, right?
If knowing that there are millions more like you out there . . . somewhere in the distance . . . convinced you that you’re normal, then we could also solve loneliness with overpopulation — and this would be the best blog post EVER.
If you’re like me however (and the numbers suggest that you are) feeling normal is not about them . . . it’s about you.
So let’s talk about you . . .
Why don’t we start with your body just to keep it awkward?
If you got fatter when you became an expat . . . you’re normal. It’s a shocker to a lot of us who anticipated our waistline might go the other direction when we stepped away from the comforts of home and the junk food that came with it but transition seeks familiar. If the only “normal” food you can find is fat and greasy (golden arches come to mind in my case) then guess what else turns fat and greasy. You do. Partner that with the fact that it may be harder to exercise and . . . yeah . . . you’re normal.
Interesting to note . . . if you got skinnier when you became an expat . . . you are also normal. If you eat better and exercise more you are not alone. If you got sick — normal. If you started getting headaches or nosebleeds — If you find yourself needing more sleep — If your skin is dry and scaly or your face breaks out like you were 14 again — You are normal.
AND — (can we be blunt here?) if your bowels have been doing some funky things . . . trust me . . . you are NOT alone.
When everything around you changes — your body can’t pretend that it hasn’t. Whatever it is, you are quite likely to be normal.
How about your attitude?
Is it not the one you came in with? Not what you hoped it would be at this point?
Normal.
Did your wide-eyed, thrill seeking fascination with your host culture morph somewhere along the line into irritation, or disgust, or boredom, or arrogance, or indifference or downright anger? Do the little things that you used to take pictures of and put on Facebook annoy the pot out of you now?
Did you have high aspirations of being a better expat than you’re turning out to be? Thought you would speak more language by now? Have more local friends? Grasp more culture? Explore more?
Have you ever yelled at someone who doesn’t speak your language . . . in your language?
Congratulations. You are normal. Textbook even.
Piggy backing off of that . . .
When did you get so judgy? Whenever it was, you are not the only one.
It’s pretty common (if not inevitable) to go through a stage of enlightenment as an expat. It’s not so much a spiritual awakening as it is a personal discovery that everyone else is wrong . . . and you could fix them if they would only listen.
- The culture around you may be thousands of years old but you could teach them so much about so many things.
- The team that you are working with could run much smoother if they would listen to your ideas.
- The other expats are SO judgmental (pause to let that sink in).
- Your friends back home just don’t get it.
Nothing makes you feel more isolated than being right. Especially when EVERYONE else is wrong.
If that strikes a chord — guess what? (see the title of this post)
Let’s talk about home . . .
Do you miss home even when you go home? Have you wrestled with what “home” even means? Do you put the word “home” in quotation marks (either in writing or with your fingers)? Did you go “home” and discover that it changed (and so did you)? Do you wonder if you could ever go home again? Do you know that you couldn’t?
Have you not left home for two weeks because you have been binge watching 90’s sitcoms?
Say it with me . . . You are normal.
Does none of this apply to you?
Maybe you’re THAT one. The one who loves it all, all the time. The one who feels untouched by culture shock and sees every day as a new adventure — every challenge as a opportunity for growth. You love learning language and making friends and sometimes it doesn’t make sense why other expats struggle so much.
Ready for an ironic twist?
You may be THAT one . . . but you are not the ONLY one. I’ve seen you before and you’re actually very normal.
So there.
There is SO much more that is normal about you . . .
I could bust the internet writing about the things that make you normal but I hope you’re starting to get the point.
- If you’re an expat parent and you think you’re breaking your children — you are normal.
- If you’re married and it feels like you’re never on the same page as your spouse — you are normal.
- If you feel like your host culture thinks you’re a superstar — you are normal.
- If you recently discovered that, actually, they don’t — you are normal.
- If you pretend to know more language than you do — you are normal.
- If you laugh at your hosts but get mad when people back home do — you are normal.
- If you’re a bumbling, homesick, culturally baffled, communicationally challenged, adventurer who is slowly learning how to love something deeply that drives you insane — you are 1000% normal.
Lest we confuse normal . . .
You are NORMAL. Unfortunately that doesn’t automatically make you right . . . or good . . . or less toxic to your host country . . . or your team . . . or your family. Just because a lot of expats gain weight and stop exercising when they move abroad doesn’t make it healthy.
Sometimes (but not always) “normal” isn’t such a great thing.
Fight the urge to justify bad habits or bad behavior with your normalcy. On the contrary, find grace in being normal that gives you the space to move towards something better. You’re not the only expat with issues. We’ve all got issues. Cut yourself some slack and while your cutting don’t forget to cut off some healthy chunks for the people around you.
They need it.
So do you.
What would it look like for you to go beyond normal? Better than normal? Abnormal in a beautiful way?
I’ll tell you what it would look like.
It would look weird . . . and wonderful.
Own that.
What else have you discovered makes you a normal expat? Comment below so the rest of us don’t feel so off.
Wondering if you’re actually normal? Take the leap and ask below. I’m betting you’re pleasantly surprised.
Know an expat who is feeling weird in a bad way? (translation — “know an expat?”) Please share this with them.
Jul 16, 2015 |
I was teenager once. It was awkward.
I was pretty run of the mill. Unfortunately the mill that year was cranking out knobby kneed, gangly armed, pimply faced manboys who, despite devoting every waking moment to the art of faking cool, squawked like a chicken every time we laughed. I was (like all of my counterparts of the same patent) a strange and confusing chemical mix of misguided uber confidence and confusingly low self esteem. In my head I was some combination of Michael Jordan* (athletically speaking) and Arthur Fonzarelli* (with the ladies). In Actual World I regularly tripped over the free throw line and let’s just say that went much better than it ever did with the ladies.
*links to MJ and the Fonz included for younger readers.
They called me Jerry Jones chicken bones and my strongest comeback was . . . “I know you are but what am I?!” I remember holding my breath with high hopes of squeezing out a chest hair. I got three new pimples that night.
It was a strange and surreal time. Confusing. Painful. Weird.
You couldn’t pay me a bajillion dollars to go back and do it all again . . . and yet . . . here I am — weeks away from yet another international move and I’m flashing back.
Transition is like puberty . . . in so many ways. If you’re in the middle of it maybe you can relate.
Here are my symptoms:
1. Mood Swings
I’m sprinting the gamut between high highs and low lows. I’m finding that as we move closer to yet another massive life transition I can (multiple times in one day) make the jump between feeling like Tigger with a cup half full and Eeeyore who doesn’t even see the point of cups . . . or water . . . or being awake.
Between the visa applications, the doctor visits, the downsizing, the packing, the intentional eye contact goodbyes and the fact that time itself is moving much too fast and much too slow simultaneously . . . yeah . . . transition makes me irritable.
Is there a problem with that or could we please just move on to number 2 like a normal blog?!
Sheesh.
2. Funky Brain
I am scattered to say the least. My brain is all over the place and no matter what I’m thinking about I have a secondary nagging thought that there is probably something else that I’m forgetting to think about.
This nonsense ironically made perfect sense when I was 12 and could blame it all on hormones and girls.
I have no good excuses now. My brain is just full . . . and consequently funky.
3. Snarfing
In the context of our chaos, when meal time comes, I am pathetically unmotivated to make wise decisions about food . . . so I make stupid ones. I also have little ambition towards cleaning up afterwards considering the fact that clutter is the bain of our transition right now.
The simpler the better.
Somehow eating uber-hydrogenated cheesy puff munches out of a plastic bag or feeding my family with a sack of double cheeseburgers feels less daunting and just easier. I’m even inclined to try convincing my wife that $5 pizzas are a better choice than a home cooked meal . . . every day.
I’m flashing back to age 14 when my stomach was a bottomless pit and my metabolism burned calories before they even went in my mouth.
This is no longer the case.
Stop judging me.
4. Fighting with people I don’t disagree with
One thing I remember, very distinctly, from my adolescent years is that everyone who lived in my house was wrong . . . about everything . . . always.
It didn’t much matter what the topic was or where they landed on it. If they said it, I disagreed . . . wholeheartedly . . . and even if they changed their position to agree with me one hundred percent . . . I still disagreed.
Recently I’m finding myself (once again) prone to taking the alternative stance even when there is no good reason to do so. When everything around is a chaotic whirlwind it’s easy to forget that the people in my boat are not actually trying to sink me.
I talk to a lot of people in transition so at least I know that high tension and pointless arguments are par for the course. Unfortunately knowing it hasn’t given us immunity.
It helps to call it out though . . . we’re on the same team.
5. Digital paralysis
I was a part of the generation who discovered that there is no limit to the hours a teenager will spend playing video games or watching TV. We were hard core. Kids these days have no idea.
We numbed our brains into the wee hours of the morning long before PS4 and Netflix. We were trailblazers. Ground breakers. When we ran out of lives we started all over from the beginning of the game. When we rented a movie we had to leave the house. Our playlists were called mix tapes and they took days to get just right. When we sent a text message there was paper involved. And stamps. The licky kind.
It was a tougher time.
Times of transition (much like the formative years) present an often overwhelming temptation to disconnect from a stressful reality. Now more than ever, the digital options that enable unhooking from real life are without boundaries.
Let’s just say it takes longer to write a blog post while you’re binge watching 90’s sitcoms.
I get it now — why my parents feared for my generation.
6. My ears are broke
My wife tells me this is true and I really have no strong argument to prove otherwise. I can look straight at you. Make eye contact. Nod like I am absorbing every word. Even respond with noises that make total sense in conjunction with what you have just said . . . and immediately have ZERO recollection that the conversation ever happened.
I can ask you a question and you can give me a clear, concise, perfectly constructed answer. I will make a purposeful, cognizant effort to register that data and store it in my brain . . . and three minutes later I will ask you the exact same question again.
I am either regressing to my teens or fast forwarding to my 90’s.
Either way . . . what were we talking about?
7. Exhaustion
I am so, so tired . . . and yet never so much that I can sleep well. It’s a vicious cycle.
8. Weird things are happening to me
I’ve been having regular headaches and tiny little anxiety attacks. That’s not like me. I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep. I’ve learned that I can increase my heart rate at will just by thinking about the next few weeks and I have regular dejavu.
I’ve also learned that I can increase my heart rate at will just by thinking about the next few weeks and I have regular dejavu.
It’s weird.
Seriously. Is there not a pamphlet for this? With charts and graphs and awkward diagrams. At least when I was sixteen my mother gave me a book called, “So You’re Turning Twelve.”
(pausing to let that sink in)
There is hope
Whiny as I may be, the silver linings are not absent here — in fact they are multiple. The change of life (I mean the big one years ago) was not entirely horrible. It was certainly filled with paradox and there were challenges that I would never want to relive however, between the knobby kneed bumbling and the hormone driven awkardness . . . it was a rich, wonderful time.
I was surrounded by great people who poured into my shaky life. I probably laughed harder and more often than I have since. I was impressionable (although I tried my hardest not to be). I was formed during that time and my life (the grown up one) has been better because of it.
And the best part . . . it didn’t last forever.
The awkward development years served as a beautiful gateway between two wonderful stages of my life.
I expect that this transition will be the same.
How about you? Anyone else out there in transition and feeling 13 again? Or is it just me?
Ironically, this post is based entirely on an outright assumption. 
Enemy # 5: Grinning 
Enemy #3: High Praise
Enemy #2: Asking “WHY?”
