Saturday, October 26, 2013

Events.

When you live abroad, something that you miss out on a lot are the big family events. The life events. The birthdays, graduations, anniversaries. You won't be able to attend your aunt's birthday party, your cousin's graduation, your grandparents 48th anniversary party; because you are on the other side of the world. It is hard. You feel left out, left out of your own family. They are having fun, catching up, creating memories, whilst you are in a foreign country.

My parents used to always say; "we'll catch on everything when we see them again". But how do you catch up on a years worth of events in one day? The moment has passed, you won't get it back. Still, those "special" days when we did see family and caught up on all these events were always fun. We did something special, and created memories that way. It's not the same, but it's something.

You need to let your family know you care. Some people can misinterpret not being there with not caring. I know that personally, I have family members that are offended when we do not attend their life events. They know that we live far away, that getting a flight for one party is simply not doable. But still, they make us feel guilty. This is something that you have to deal with (or, if you have the perfect family, maybe you don't). So instead of being there in person, make sure you give them a call on the day. Send them flowers, a card. Make them remember that you do care, and that you wish that you could be there.

Today is my Dad's birthday. My family is in Singapore while I am here. It was hard today, because I would have done anything to be there. I know they had a great day, and that tomorrow I will have to hear about how great it was. I know that they all wish I was there, and that my Dad knows I really want to be there. And as I told him this morning in my birthday email to him; “we'll catch up on it when I see you!”

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Bad day.

Everyone has bad days. Maybe something happens in school, at work, with friends, with family. Maybe you just wake up in a bad mood. Yesterday, I had a bad day. It started off with something small, but quickly turned into a vicious cycle causing me to be homesick. For most of my friends, if they are homesick, they can catch the first train back home and be there in 2 hours or less. I envy this sometimes. Yesterday, all I wanted was to talk to my mom in person, for her to hug me, for her to take care of me so I felt a bit better. As a TCK, when you go to University, this is a big struggle. You need to learn to comfort yourself, or to trust others to help you through a bad day.

I feel much better today, and so thought about how I felt yesterday, and how I handled it. I felt sorry for myself, felt like my life was so unfair compared to that of my fellow University peers. I didn't see the point of being at University so far away from home. Now, with a clearer mind, I can see that I was of course overreacting. In fact, what I am learning through these bad days is a valuable life lesson. I am learning to take care of myself, to be by myself. By this, I don't mean that I am preparing myself for a life of always being alone, because I do not have that intention. What I mean is, I am learning to fend for myself, to cater to my emotions myself. I am also learning to trust the right people to talk to when I have a bad day. You need to find friends that you trust to talk to, that make you feel a bit better. For me, these friends are like a family away from home, they mean a lot to me. Without them, I really would be completely alone.

I know that not only TCK's go through this homesickness at University (or at any point in life, for that matter). Many people suffer from homesickness, the difference is, what one can do about it. Like I said, there is no possibility for me to go home right now, and so I have to suck it up and get through it. It is not fun, but it gets easier, and I know that it is preparing me to be a strong person. If you are a fellow TCK going through this, just know that there are many of us out there. And keep in mind, feeling sorry for yourself and crying about it is not bad once in a while; just don't let it take over your life. Because while being a TCK has some downsides like this, there are many more upsides.

Sunday, September 29, 2013

The first few weeks.

When you move to a new place, people assume that it is the first week or two that are the hardest. While this might seem logical, I have found that this if often not the case. Yes, during the first few weeks you miss you friends, your familiar places, but there is also excitement in the air. Excitement for starting a new chapter of your life, discovering a new place, meeting new people. The first few weeks in a new place you are in a sort of haze; everything is happening so quickly. For me, the hardest weeks were always the weeks after the first few, the weeks when you were starting to feel a little bit settled in. This is because once you start to get to know a new place, you start to miss specific things about the place you used to live.

At the start of your move, you miss the big things; your old friends, your old school, your old home. The longing hurts, but unfortunately, it will get even worse before it gets better. After a few weeks you start to miss the little things; your friends warm hug, your comfort food from the supermarket around the corner, your amazing English teacher to help you with your essay. These little things accumulate to one big thing; you want to go back. You want to go back to what you knew, to what felt so right. At this point in the move, for me at least, I was always a emotional wreck. Crying into my pillow at night, blaming everything on my parents because they "made" me move. And then, after a few weeks of this, it always became better.

It becomes better once you see the good things about the new place you live in. Seeing the good things takes a while, but once you see them, you start to appreciate them. You find a new group of great friends, you find out that your new Maths teacher is super helpful, and you find new places to buy your comfort food. So what do I want to see with this post? It does get better. Are you going through the first stages of a new move right now? If so, just know that it's alright to feel sad, to miss your old place, but also try to see the good things. Explore your new home, keep busy, so that you spend less time thinking about the things that you miss. Soon, I promise, the place which now still seems foreign to you, will become your new home.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

TCA

As you might know, this blog is about TCK's (Third Culture Kids), but for this post, I will be talking about TCA's (Third Culture Adults). Recently, I turned 19. So technically, I am no longer a child, so does that mean I am now a TCA? I have not really heard the term before, but for me, a TCA is a TCK that has grown up. They are different then adults that move abroad (usually referred to as expats), because we have grown up with a third culture.

A TCA will always have a TCK inside them; just as every adult has a inner child. Even if we someday do return to our home countries, and lead a normal (not moving all the time) life, we will still be a bit different then most. We will have experienced being a part of a different culture, seen places others have not been, gone through the range of emotions that come with every move. It shapes us to be the adults we become, and thus, we become TCA's.

Personally, I think that as a TCA, I will never really lead a typical "normal" life. I don't see myself living in one place for a long time, but rather moving every few years. This is because I grew up this way; it is what I know best. I suppose this is another difference between TCA's and expats. For TCA's, moving abroad and moving around has always been the norm, while for expats (in my experience), moving abroad is a big step into the unknown. We share one thing though; the amazing experience that comes with living abroad.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Going home?


Right now, I am at the airport, going home! Going to a place I have never actually been to, and won’t be for very long, but still, I am going home. I have talked previously about the term “home”, and how for TCK’s, it often has a different meaning then for others. For me, home is where my family is, where my “things” are, the place I go to feel at home. I must say though, this situation is a first. In the past, I have moved places together with my family, so then; we were going to our “new home”. This was because none of us lived there yet, our "things" were not there yet, and our house had not been lived in yet. Now, I am going somewhere where there is a room with my bed, my books, my “things”. Where, we I walk around, there are the things that make a house a home. Pictures of us, tokens from our travels, our furniture. Somewhere that my family has lived for a bit, and so they call it their home. To put it in a very cheesy way; their home is my home.

Yes, it will be different this time. I am only staying for a little while since I have to go back to university. I am not going to school there, not looking for a job there, I am not completely settling myself there. I am going there to explore this new place which I call “home”, to see what it is like. To understand it’s culture, it’s people, it’s customs and norms. So that when someone asks me; “Where is home? What is it like?” I can answer with confidence.

I find it hard to explain, my strange view on what I call “home”. Maybe some people reading this will think it’s crazy that I am calling this destination my “home”, when I have not even been there yet, when I am not going to stay long. Hopefully I am not the only one who struggles with this, maybe fellow TCK’s can relate. What I do know for sure though is that right now, I am waiting to board a plane that will take me to my new home, and I'm excited! 

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Lucky.


I have been in the Netherlands for a few weeks now, visiting family and friends, as we do every year. There is one phrase that I hear every year; “you are so lucky”. This is the response to our stories about travelling, living abroad, our experiences. I couldn’t agree more, because I am very lucky. Lucky to be given the opportunity to live abroad and experience different cultures, to grow up in a unique environment, to be able to travel, to study abroad. I do feel like I should point out one thing though; with the lifestyle comes hardships. I often feel like I cannot talk about this with family and friends here, because it would make me seem ungrateful. But this is not the case. I am so grateful for everything that I have, but sometimes, I wish it were different. When I have to say goodbye to my parents and brother for a few months, because I am studying in a country half way across the world to where they are living, I do not feel “lucky”. When I have to say goodbye to people who I love because I am moving, I do not feel “lucky”. When I feel shut out because I do not understand a culture and it’s norms, I do not feel “lucky”.

Even writing this, I feel like I shouldn’t post it. I am afraid that I will come across as “that spoiled girl that has a amazing life but whines about it”. At the same time though, I feel like I should be able to say these things, because everyone has points in their life when they wish they had it different.

As a TCK, you put on a brave face a lot. I put on a brave face for my grandparents when I tell them that I love university and that everything is great, but leave out the part that I cry myself to sleep sometimes because I have not seen my parents and brother for a few months. I put on a brave face for friends when I say that I don’t mind that they all go home in the weekend, when I really wish I could do the same. The only people I don’t put a brave face on for are my parents, my brothers, and my TCK friends, because they know what it feels like. So we whine together, we feel sorry for each other, for ourselves, and sometimes we cry together. It’s like a therapy session, and at the end of it, I come out of it, and sometimes, I even feel lucky.

To end off this post, let me just reiterate again that I know that I am lucky, that I am completely aware of it. I know I have opportunities that others don’t, that I have seen things in the world that others have not, that I have experiences that some can only dream of. But that sometimes, “lucky” is not the right word for our situation. Because with all those great things, come hardships. So if you meet a TCK, maybe don’t constantly remind them that they are lucky. Let them know that they don’t have to put on a brave face for you, because only then will you really get to know a TCK.  

*After a few weeks of not posting, I am back again full speed, so come back soon to check out a new post!

Friday, July 12, 2013

Family.

I recently did an interview with “Moving Abroad with Children” and was asked the question; do you think families that move abroad are close? If you watch the interview, you’ll see that my simple answer was; yes, we are. But I thought I would talk about it a little bit more, because I think it is something that TCK’s can relate with.

For a TCK, your immediate family is usually the only consistent thing throughout your life. You move around, go to numerous school, change friends groups, live in different cultures, but your family is always there with you. No matter where we were, my mom was always there to talk to, my dad always ready to help out. My brother was always there to annoy me, whether I liked it or not.

You go through the hardships together. The tears of leaving yet another home, the nervousness of a first day at a new school. These are things that bring you close to people; showing your vulnerable side. Moreover, they understand the hardships you experience with every move, and so everyone can help one another.

It is a general observation I have made; that TCK families are closer then regular families. Of course, I only have a few families to model this theory on, and I am in no way saying that "normal" families (aka: families that do not move around every few years) are not close. It just seems to me that the hard times bring a family closer. That is what I see with my family, and I suppose in some way I am grateful for the hard times and the tears, because it means that my support system during those times gets stronger and stronger. 

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Moving out.

As a TCK, you move many times; however, this year I have only really come to realize how hard it is. Past moves I was in the background. I would help pack my room a bit and help my mom sort out our things, but moving companies did the real work. Moreover, I never really understood what was so stressful about it. My parents were always stressed at moving time, when my brother and I would lounge around and really not see the big deal. This year though, I have had to move out all by myself. Yes, it is only moving out of my student room, but still, I managed to cram a lot of stuff in there. With me travelling around this summer, I had to find somewhere to leave my things for the 3 months of summer break.

A definite upside to being a TCK is that you learn to dispose of clutter. With every move, you have to go through all your things and dispose of anything that you don't think you will need. Like this year, I donated numerous clothing items, got rid of old notebooks and magazines, and just generally de-cluttered my life. As a TCK, you do this every few years, with each move. You learn to keep only the necessary things and the things that mean a lot to you. It is definitely a good lesson to learn when you are young, and a trait that I have seen with many fellow TCK's.

The stress comes mainly, I think, from not knowing exactly where you stuff will be, and if it will return in the same condition. You leave your things somewhere or with someone for a few months, and when you come back, you hope that everything is all right. For my fellow first years, the moving out process was fairly easy. Parents would come up for the day with their car, put the back seats down, and pile everything into the car. It would then be driven home and be driven back in September. For me, there was a little bit more planning. I am leaving my things with several friends, each coming to pick up things on different days. Don't get me wrong; I am so grateful for these friends and the fact that they are willing to take my things. It just made me realize the extra stress that being a TCK comes with. Let's just say, I will be happy to see all my things again after 3 months of living out of one suitcase!

As I am growing up, I see certain aspects of my childhood differently. Moving is one of those. As I said, I have come to realise how stressful it is, and how much work my parents put in to every move. I definitely did observe a lot when I was younger though, and I found that I was rather effective at moving out. I guess that is a skill a TCK can put on their CV; good at moving!

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

That time of year again.

It is the time of year again when you say goodbye. From my experience, two weeks before school breaks for summer, there is a wave of parties and events all to do with people leaving. Whether you are leaving yourself or if friends are leaving, this time of year is always bitter sweet. While the events and parties are fun, you know that you are saying goodbye to people you care about. You might never see them again. The expat community is accustomed to this time of year. School is focused on it; from big end of year assemblies to handing out "leavers t-shirts" for people to write their goodbye messages on. The people leaving change, but the routine of this time of year stays mostly the same.

Whenever it was our own last two weeks, there was always a change in the air. It was a rush to do things for the last time, a rush to get keepsakes of our home. We would have to eat at that one restaurant for the last time, get ice cream at our favourite place once more, and visit that one special place for the last time. We would have to buy things that reminded us of this home; a antique nightstand from Shanghai, a “I <3 Beijing” shirt, a red lantern from Hanoi. It was as if all of a sudden, the few years we had lived there were not enough. We would want more time; more time to explore the country, to get to know the people. At the same time, there was excitement in the air. We would want to know more about the new place we were moving to, what the school would be like, where we would live. To sum up in one word, this time of year is hectic.

It is closing another chapter, and moving on. This might seem a bit harsh, but after a while, you get used to it. You know that in a few years time, it will be your last two weeks again. It is never easy, but it becomes more bearable over time. You learn to accept that you will lose touch with some people, and that some others you will see again soon. You know that if you are leaving, you are leaving a place that was your home for a few years. You also know that you will be moving to a place that you will soon call home again.

For the first time in a long time this time of year is different for me. Yes, everyone is leaving and going home, but everyone is coming back in a couple of months. There is no one moving to another country, no farewell parties. There are no tears of sadness. I suppose this is normal, but it is not normal for me. Through Skype I am living along with my family, who are experiencing their last two weeks and moving. It is not easy, but it is a part of being a TCK. You just have to remember; you are on a journey of discovery, and this time of year is part of that.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

When in Rome, do as the Romans do, Pt 4.

It is time for the final part of my series; "When in Rome, do as the Romans do”, and this post will be about where I live now, in the United Kingdom (more specifically, in Wales). I have lived here for less than a year, so I am still in the process of becoming part of the culture, but I think that I have integrated enough to write a post about it. I had to become Welsh fast, as I was thrown right into the community. Moving alone to go to University is very different then moving with your family to a new country. Beside the hard aspect of being by myself, I was also in no way a part of an expat community. I was just a normal University student, along with the thousands of new freshman. While this new normalcy was refreshing, it was also slightly daunting.

My key connection with the local culture was my friends. I did make some international friends, but my closest friends are all from around here. While they do make fun of my accent and misunderstanding of certain local customs, they are a great group of friends. Through them, I have come to understand more aspects of the culture I am currently living in. This happens through simple things, such as teaching me slang and correcting certain expressions. For example, to me, chips are crispy potato chips, but here they refer to those as crisps. What I call fries is what they call chips. This might seem silly, but when I first arrived, people would look at me weird when I ordered fries at a restaurant, and I would automatically be seen as someone not from around here. Little things like this build up to develop us into someone who fits into a new culture.

Personally, I love spending the day outside in the fresh air. So when I saw that my University has a hiking club, I automatically joined. I now go for hikes around Wales whenever I can, and I love it. I have met some great like-minded people through the club, seen the amazing scenery of Wales, and most importantly, felt more at home in Wales. I believe that when you explore a country, you come to understand what a culture is based on, where customs and habits originate from. Our hikes usually pass through small villages, and if we feel up for it, we will go to the local pub for a drink. The pubs are always filled with locals, always up for a chat. Elderly men that will gladly tell you the story of their lives, about what it was like to grow up on a small town farm. I have some amazing memories from these hikes, and hope to gain more over the years, and they are a big part of why I feel like I am becoming part of the Welsh culture. This is because I took initiative to learn about the place and it's culture.

While I am not at a point yet where I feel like a local, I am getting there. What I have learnt by moving to Wales is that in order to become part of a culture, you need to want to understand it. Take part in activities that will bring you closer to the culture. Also, let people teach you about their culture. Let them correct your accent, your way of saying things, because it will make you understand the culture more. The phrase really is true: "When in Rome, do as the Romans do", because when you act as a local, with work, you will come closer to being one. Embrace your new culture, because who knows how long you will stay a part of it.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

When in Rome, do as the Romans do, Pt 3.

It is time for part 3 of the series; "When in Rome, do as the Romans do", and this post will be about Hanoi, Vietnam. My move from Beijing to Hanoi was hard. I really did not want to leave Beijing; I had great friends, went to a good school with good teachers, and I generally loved living there. I thus moved to Hanoi with a negative mind-set. I knew that I was only going to live there for 2 years and so just told myself that I would get though the last two years of High School, focus on school, and leave as soon as I could. Looking back, I regret this mind-set hugely. It meant that I did not take some opportunities that could have opened me up to the Vietnamese culture more. Fortunately, Vietnamese expat life was very different from expat life in China, different in a way that automatically put me in touch with the culture.

Up till this point, I was used to living in compounds. In Hanoi however, compounds were not as common for expats to live in. Instead we lived in a house in a Vietnamese neighbourhood where a mix of locals and expats lived. We had Vietnamese neighbours, the communal volleyball field was in front of our house, and the local (and loud) karaoke bar was right behind our house. It was an adjustment, but an adjustment for the better. It allowed me to see how the locals went about their daily routines, and it meant for easier interaction with them. The local grocery store was owned by the sweetest lady. We always had a little chat at the checkout, she always asked after how the family was doing. Our neighbour had an adorable young son that would always be running around near our house, always happy to see everyone. It was these little aspect of living in this neighbourhood that allowed me to feel connected to the Vietnamese culture. I might not have had the choice to live anywhere else but there, but if I would get the choice now, I would choose it again in a heartbeat.

For my High School diploma, I had to do community and service. While this started of as something that I had to do, it developed into something that I loved to do. I was part of an organization that provided funding and materials for a local school for mentally disabled children. The school was in need of financial help, as well as materials to help support the children's education. Besides helping with fundraising activities, we also visited the school several times. It was an hour by bus through rural villages before we reached the school. The children were always excited to see us, and their genuine happiness always brought a smile to my face. We would play games with them, draw pictures with them, and have a fun basic English lesson. Despite the language barrier, I felt a connection with the school, it's pupils, and it's teachers. It is when you see different aspects of a culture that you truly understand the culture. While I might have just helped a minimal amount, I am so grateful that they opened my eyes to their wonderful culture.

What I took away from living in Vietnam was that to become part of the culture, you have to truly take part. I did this through living in a Vietnamese neighbourhood, as well as helping out a local school. One tip; do not move to a place with the same mind-set as I did. While in the end, I loved Hanoi and I felt truly connected to it's culture, I think that if I had moved with a more positive mind-set, this connection would have been even stronger.

Stay tuned for the last part of this series, which will be about where I live now; the United Kingdom!

Saturday, May 25, 2013

When in Rome, do as the Romans do, Pt 2.

It is time for part 2 of my "When in Rome, do as the Romans do" series, and this post will focus on Beijing. At the end of 7th grade, I moved from Shanghai to Beijing. As I talked about in my previous post, I learnt Chinese in Shanghai and was introduced to the Chinese culture. My first year in Beijing I actually did not do Chinese. This was because my school offered the option of doing Dutch as a language in school, and so I did that instead of Chinese. After a year though, we realized that this was not the best thing for me, and I went back to doing Chinese. I think the main difference between Shanghai and Beijing for me was my maturity. What I mean by this is that in Shanghai, I explored the city and the culture through my parents. They would take trips to places, and I would follow. In Beijing, I was at the age where I was allowed to do things on my own with my friends, and it allowed me to see the culture in a different light.

I had a great group of friends in Beijing, and two of them had lived in Beijing for most of their lives. This meant that they knew the city well, and so they took me to places I would not have gone to alone. Our favourite outing was going to a local mall, getting bubble tea, and singing out hearts out at the karaoke bar. It might sound silly, but doing the same things that local teenagers were doing made me feel like I was more than just an expat; I felt like I belonged there. Yes, I still stood out with my blond hair, blue eyes, and height, but I did not feel like I was the odd one out anymore.

I think a major aspect that played a part in me feeling so at home in Beijing was understanding the culture. In Shanghai we went to visit lots of places, emerged ourselves in the culture, but I think that due to my age, I never really fully understood. In Beijing, I started to understand the culture on a different level. The cultural norms, practices, and expectations intrigued me, and I found it vital to uphold them. I thank this largely to one of my friends, who was Chinese and had lived in Beijing most of her life. I spent a lot of time with her, and through her, I came to understand the Chinese culture. In particular, Chinese families. I understood that in China, elders are very important and demand respect. Parents are usually tough on their children on an academic front, and they do not show their emotions for each other in the same way that I was used to. I understood that it was different, not better or worse then what I was used to, just different.
                                                           
To sum up, I became part of the culture in Beijing through truly understanding the culture. This was because of my maturity level, and because of a great group of friends. I had the best time living in Beijing, and to this day, I still think it was my favourite place to live. That is because I felt truly at home in Beijing; I did not feel like an outsider. 

Sunday, May 19, 2013

When in Rome, do as the Romans do, Pt 1.

Being a TCK, I have had to adapt to many different places. My parents always believed that when you move to a new place, you have to become part of that culture. So, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. I'm starting a mini series on this topic, talking about how I tried to integrate into the different cultures that I lived in. There will be four parts: Shanghai, Beijing, Vietnam, and the United Kingdom. This is part 1, so I'm going to be talking about adapting to living in Shanghai.

My move from the Netherlands to Shanghai was probably the most shocking move, as the two cultures were so different. I was 7 at the time, and being an expat in China was not as common as it is nowadays. I had blonde hair and blue eyes, so I was an attraction to most locals. I'm not going to lie; I hated my first few months in Shanghai. I was still learning how to speak English, I was suffering from severe culture shock, and I felt very out of place. My mom was having a tough time adjusting as well, but she decided that we would explore the neighbourhood and the culture, so we would feel more at home. Besides visiting the obvious tourist attractions, our weekends were spent exploring Shanghai's more hidden spots. Like many of the locals, we got to places by bike as much as we could. My parents tended to do groceries at the non-expat supermarkets. We would make sure eat Chinese food at least 3 times a week. These are all little things, but they go a long way. Step by step, I started to feel more at home in Shanghai, and while I still looked like the odd one out, I started to feel more and more like a local.

A big part of integrating into a culture is, I believe, the language. Language is tied into so many aspects of a culture, I would advice you try and pick it up. After 2 months of only learning English at school, my parents decided to also have me learn Chinese. I was learning English and Chinese simultaneously, and while it was hard, it was definitely worth it. Still being young I picked up the language fast, and after a few months, I was able to hold simple conversation. This helped me out a lot, because the locals take you more seriously when you speak their language. It shows a level of commitment to the place and the culture, and this is respected.

I ended up living in Shanghai for a little more than 5 years, and over those years, I truly felt like I was part of the culture. Some of the things I mentioned in this point might be very specific, but the main idea I want you to take away is to try your utmost best to integrate into the culture. You can do this through language, food, mode of transportation, however you feel comfortable. The worst thing you can do is shut yourself out, because that means not allowing your new living place to become your home.

Come back in a few days for part 2: Beijing!

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Where are you from?

The question every TCK dreads: "Where are you from?". It's not that we don't like the answer to that question, it's just that for most, the answer is long and complicated. The answer starts of simple: "I'm Dutch". My accent throws them off though, and they'll ask more questions: "Why do you have an American accent?", "Are your parents American?", "Have you always lived in the UK?". At this point I ready myself for a long story, because the answers to those questions involve multiple countries, schools, 'homes', and experiences.

I have to say, I enjoy watching how people react when I tell them about being a TCK. Everything is normal until I tell them I lived in China for almost 8 years, upon which people will usually do a double take and respond with: "CHINA? Why China?". I tell them about my Dad's work, about how I picked up a American accent in International Schools, about how I speak Chinese, about how my parents still live in Vietnam so I don't get to see them very often. All of a sudden, the simple questions of "Where are you from?" turns into a complicated, personal tale of my life. Don't get me wrong; I don't mind answering the question. I understand that people find my life intriguing, and I know that for most, they don't often meet a TCK. It is just that on some occasions, I wish the answer were easier. For example, on a night out, I would rather have fun and dance with my friends then tell a stranger a 10-minute story about where I have lived. So in those situations, I do sometimes opt for: "Yes, I am American". That answer fits with my accent and people will accept it and walk away. I'm not happy to lie, but sometimes I prefer at 10-second conversations opposed to a 10-minute one!


Friday, May 10, 2013

Arrivals.

A few days ago, I has some time to waste at Schiphol Airport. Not knowing what to do, I decided I would sit and watch the arrivals. This might sounds strange, but it reminded me of the Dutch show: "Hello Goodbye". In this show, the presenter interviews people at the arrivals bay, asking them who they are waiting for. This mostly bring up complicated histories and astonishing stories, and I always loved to watch it. So I took a seat near the arrivals bay at Schiphol airport and observed. There were people with banners and balloons, all for the people arriving. The excitement on peoples faces when they saw their loved one was heartwarming. It got me thinking though; have I ever experienced this?

As a TCK, you travel a lot. Sometime this is to foreign places, but sometimes this is also to return to your home country. For me, we went back to the Netherlands once a year, during summer. I vaguely remember the first time arriving back in the Netherlands after having moved abroad. Our whole family was waiting for us, some of them cried. They were ecstatic to see us, my uncle even brought me and my brother a present. This reaction to our arrival back in the Netherlands grew less and less grand over the years. The past few years there has not been anyone waiting for us at the arrivals bay at the airport. My grandfather does usually pick us up from the train station with my grandmother, with smiles on their faces. It is not that they are not happy that we are back for the summer, but it has become normality now. I think this is something most TCK's experience; the novelty of returning to your home country wears off for both ourselves and our family.

I am not going to lie, I did feel a pang of jealously watching the Schiphol arrivals bay. While I in no way blame my family for not coming to greet us as they used to, it would make arriving in the Netherlands a little bit nicer. I completely understand why it is no longer as big of a deal as it used to be, yet I wish it could be equally special every year. There comes a time when your family accepts that you are now a TCK, and they might treat you slightly different. Not in a negative way, just differently.

Monday, April 29, 2013

Visiting: being visited.

Many of my TCK memories involve people visiting us where we lived. Grandparents, aunts, cousins, family friends, they've all come. For them it was a easy and cheaper holiday; going somewhere far away and exotic with free accommodation and a free tour guide. The place I called home was a holiday destination for them, a place they had always dreamed of visiting. We always had a good time; my parents pulled out all the stops to show their friends and family the best time. We would go out to eat more often, go to all the fun places, and sometimes even have trips away to nearby destinations. As I got older though, I sometimes found it overwhelming. All of a sudden, there would be a few more people in the house, and my daily routine would be completely disrupted. I love my family and our friends dearly, but when you're put in close quarters for three weeks at a time, it can get a bit much. My family always tended to fall out when we had visitors. My mom would feel like everything needed to be perfect, which meant that my brother and I would act out more just to annoy her. It always had a strain on the family, although we never showed our visitors that.

There was always a common trend with visitors; they always came towards the end of our stay. As soon as we said "we're moving next year", the visitors would start coming. They would suddenly realize that their opportunity to go on a cheap holiday was slipping away, and they would all try to come at the same time.  By this time, my family would be planning the move to a new place. Visitors and moving do not tend to mix well. As a example, I'll take you back to when I was in 10th grade. At the end of 10th grade, we were moving from Beijing to Hanoi. I was finishing up my MYP program, so I was very busy with school work, and on top of that I was leaving behind the closest friend group that I'd ever had. During our last month there, my cousin, aunt, and grandmother came to visit. Personally struggling with leaving while feeling like I had to put on a happy face for them was really hard. I love them all dearly, but the timing was the worst.

I suppose the point that I'm trying to get across is that while being visited is routine when being a TCK, it's not always easy. I realize that this post points out more negative then positive things about being visited. Don't get me wrong, I have had amazing memories of family and friends coming to visit. It's just that I wanted to point out that being visited is not always easy.

In a few days I'm leaving to the Netherlands for a few days. So, I'll be the one visiting! I'll write a blog post on that side of it, for a little bit of balance. So keep a look out!

Friday, April 26, 2013

Homey.

Recently my friend told me that she thought my room looked so homey, and that she wished she could have done the same with her room. I looked at my room and realized it looked like what all my rooms have looked like. Lots of pictures on the wall and memorabilia from countless countries scattered around the room. Having had lots of bedrooms over the years, I've learned how to make a room look homey fast. Your room should be somewhere you feel safe, and even if you know you'll only stay there for a year or two, you should decorate it as if you're staying a little longer than that. I think most TCK's can agree that you don't always feel home is certain countries, but your room is like your safe haven.

The room I am in now is student accomodation, and when I moved in, I knew I would only stay here for a year. And yet, I made sure I love my room. I have a red latern that I bought in Hoi An to remind me of where my family is. On my doorknob hang two plush Chinese fish to always remind me of my childhood on my way out the door. I have a string of small Buddhist prayer flags as well as a wooden Buddha to keep me safe here in my new home, as they have always done. I have a poster of Ganesha to remind me of my vacation to India, and how beautiful it was. On my bookshelf stands a little replica of the Golden Rock in Myanmar and next to that a small lacquer ware offering vessel to remind me of the beauty of Asia. I could go on listing the little items I have to remind me of my TCK childhood that are spread around my room. Every time I look up from my work I'll see something and it'll bring back a memory, putting a smile on my face.


The pictures that cover my walls is like a timeline of my life. Different friends from different countries, holiday photographs, and a bunch of family pictures. They remind me that I'm not alone, that I have friends and family out there. As a TCK, it's hard to remind yourself that although you might not have your family right next door, that doesn't mean they're not there for you. When I'm in a bad place, the pictures remind me of them and that, even though they are thousands of kilometers away, I have family and friends that care about me. My homey room is a constant reminder of the different life that I lead, and how appreciative I have to be off it.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Uncertainty.

Being a expat always has a element of uncertainty to it. Growing up as a TCK, I experienced this uncertainty and how it affects us. I'm writing this post because my family is currently going through some major uncertainty regarding their expat life. As you may recall, I wrote a blog post about my family moving to Bangkok. They were really happy about it, until the plans fell through a few days ago. There were problems with living in Thailand, and all of a sudden, they don't know where they're going to be living in a few months time. If you are a fellow expat, I'm sure you can relate. Whether it is uncertainty regarding where your children will go to school next year or if you can get the correct living permit for your new destination, none of it is pleasant. Just think, it's all preparation for living in a new place, a new adventure. The uncertainty will be worth it in the long run. 

Personally, I have experienced a fair bit of uncertainty as a TCK. Most prominently, the uncertainty of how long I will be a TCK. Originally, my father's contract was to work for three years in China and then to move back to the Netherlands. That was more then 10 years ago, and here I am, still living a expat life. Then there are the uncertainties a TCK experiences with every new move. Will I find friends at my new school? Will I get into the school soccer team? Will I keep in touch with my old friends? Will my new home city be just as exciting as my current one? Getting closer to the move means more and more uncertainties popping up in your mind. Personally I believe that some uncertainty about a new place is good, as it means you plan carefully and are determined to make this new place your home. You should however not let your uncertainties take control, because this can lead to overlooking the little things, like saying goodbye to the place you are leaving. My advice? Don't let the future overshadow the present. I think that growing up as a TCK has made me live more in the present rather then always plan for the future, because the future can change so suddenly when you are a expat.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Loneliness.

We all feel lonely sometimes, but as a TCK, we experience a fair amount of it. We experience it when we walk into a new school, move to a new neighborhood, have left our friends behind, and feel further away from that place we used to call "home". I am feeling it right now. I have just gotten back from being home for three weeks, and let me tell you, returning to your empty flat sucks. Lucky for me, I know how to deal with it. It's one of the experiences you gain as a TCK. As I said before, we all feel lonely sometimes, you don't have to be a TCK to feel lonely. So I though I would share a few tips with you on have to deal with it:

  • Distract yourself from the loneliness you are feeling. There are countless ways to do this, some of the way I distract myself it by going for a run, doing school work, or just watching a movie (a happy movie though, no sad movies that results in you crying, those won't help right now!)
  • Make a list of things to look forward to. I love doing this when I feel lonely, because it makes me realize that I have things to do and people that want to do it with me! Right now, my list consist of going on vacation with my family for three weeks in the summer, seeing my grandparents in a few weeks, going traveling with a friend, and my exciting summer job. Write your list on a big piece of paper, make it nice and colorful, and hang it up on your wall. It's something you can look at everyday, and just reminding yourself of these things will put a smile on your face!
  • Surround yourself with people! Sitting alone in your room really won't help the situation. If you are in a new school, join a sports team or a society to meet people. If you're just feeling lonely and can't put your finger on exactly why, make plans with a friend to go for lunch. Having someone else with you for a few hours make you realize that you're not alone, and the feeling of loneliness with start to diminish. 
  • Lastly, don't ignore the fact that you are feeling lonely. Sit yourself down and think why exactly you are feeling the way you are. If you know why, it's much easier to figure out how to deal with it. If you feel confident enough, talk to someone about it. Don't feel like you have to keep your loneliness to yourself, this will only add to the feeling.

Just as I talked about in my last post about leaving, the loneliness does not get any easier. You do however learn how to deal with it. I am by no means saying that the above few points are the exact way to tackle feeling lonely. I do however feel that as a TCK, I have a decent amount of experience to talk about loneliness, and how to deal with it. This is just how I cope with it, what about you?


Thursday, April 11, 2013

Saying goodbye.

As a TCK, you say goodbye a lot. You say goodbye to friends, family, places, schools. And yet, each time it's hard. For me, saying goodbye does not get any easier. Sure, you get used to the process of it, but it does not make it easier. After being home for three weeks, I am leaving tomorrow to go back to Cardiff. It'll be two months before I see them again. It's not as long as it has been before, but still, it's long for me. That's two months of not getting a hug from my mom when I need it, wrestling with my brother when we both need a energy outlet, or watching a movie with my dad. It's the little things that I miss each time. As a TCK, I have developed a sort of shield against it all, the saying goodbye. I don't really show people my sorrow anymore, I just cry myself to sleep at night. I know that might sound a bit depressing, but it works for me. I have had to say goodbye so often, that if each time I were to let it get to me to a full extent, it would take up too much time. So I try look at the positives. It's only two months, two months will go fast. I'll Skype with them daily. They're always there for me if I need them. I know all these things, and yet, I'm crying as I write this.

I'm sorry if this was a bit of a sad post, but I do want to be honest on this blog. While being a TCK has opened so many doors for me, made me into a better person, but it's not all easy. Saying goodbye is one of the negatives. Unfortunately, if you want to see the world, you have to leave people and places behind. It's certainly not easy, but if they're the right people, it won't affect the relationship you have with them.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Culture shock.

I realized today how easily I have fallen back into old routine here in Hanoi. Crossing the street with motorcycles zooming past me has caused no trouble, my stomach has coped fine with street food, and the heat is very bearable. My mom asked me the other day if I was experiencing any culture shock. For a minute I was confused; why would I experience culture shock? I was back home, there was nothing new of different here. After a while I realized though, there are so many differences between Hanoi and Cardiff, I just don't realize it. Hanoi and everything that comes with it is ingrained in my brain, so when I arrived back here, I automatically switched back to "Hanoi mode" effortlessly. Culture shock is quite foreign to me, which might be surprising to some. Moving from one culture to the next, and traveling all the time, means I always switch from one culture to the next. After a while, I become immune to it, and have no real trouble with adjusting to a new culture. I think this is a characteristic of a TCK; immunity to culture shock.

If I were to experience culture shock every time I was in a new culture, I would most likely always have culture shock, non-stop. Whether it is moving to a new country, or going on a trip, I switch cultures often. And the differences between these cultures are often vast. Take this Easter break for example. I came from Cardiff. The weather there is cold, the food is hearty, the people warm and easy to communicate with, and in general a very peaceful and quite environment. From there I came to Hanoi. The weather here is hot and humid, the food spicy, the people hard to communicate with but friendly, and in general a very hectic environment. For people that do not travel a lot, these differences would have been plenty to experience culture shock for several days. Seeing as I'm staying here for less then 3 weeks, I would most likely only have a couple of days of normality, the rest would be occupied with culture shock. So what I'm saying is, is that the reason TCK's don't generally suffer from culture shock is because we don't have the time for it!

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Sounds familiar.

For two days now, I have constantly heard a familiar sound. The screeching of packing tape. I refer to it as screeching for a reason. I have been sitting in the living room of our now old apartment "supervising" the move with 6 men packing our things, using a extensive amount of packing tape. Constantly things are being wrapped, bound, and stuck together with it. It fair to say that after two days of this, it has become a screech. I have a headache and I can't concentrate on my work because of the sound!

This sound is all too familiar though. Moving from the Netherlands to Shanghai, moving within Shanghai, moving to Beijing, moving to Hanoi, moving within Hanoi, and now moving within Hanoi again. Everything is put into boxes, wrapped in bubble wrap, and shipped to yet another place. The process is always very similar. They come one day with a truck full of folded up boxes, bubble wrap, packing paper, and tonnes of packing paper. Then, with Stanley knifes in hand, they get to work. You always have to be there to supervise, so that they can show you the chips on your plates to make sure you don't sue them for damages. The amount of time it takes to pack all your belongings is unthinkably fast. In less then two days, you life is completely packed up and shipped to a new place. 

Currently we are on the second day of the move to a new apartment. Everyone else in my family is at work or school, so I have been sent to sit in the living room and be submitted to the endless screeching of this dreadful tape. I do find it fascinating though, how only yesterday morning we were still eating breakfast in a fully furnished apartment, and now there are only a few boxes left in the whole place. Fascinating, a a little bit scary. Should it be so easy to remove your life? I will ponder over this question for a little longer, but first, I'm going to find a Advil for my headache.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Travelling.


It’s finally Easter break, the time where I get to go home for 3 weeks. I haven’t been home since the Summer break, so it will be so nice to be going back to an environment that I already know. Now, in order for me to get home, I need to travel. A lot. To me, that seems pretty normal, because it has always been that way. Whether we were going back to the Netherlands or on vacation, it was always a minimum of 10 hour journey. This time, my journey included a 4 modes of transport (taxi, train, underground, plane), 14 hours of flying time, travelling across 7 times zones, and taking up most of my weekend. While it still is a long journey to me, it is not as hard as it might be for some others. I have grown accustom to the procedures of travelling, it has become routine to me. I know the best snacks for on the plane, the most comfortable sleeping positions (if those even exist?) in the airplane. I know how to navigate around an airport swiftly, how to make sure you catch that connecting flight on time. You might think that these things are irrelevant, but they really aren’t. They cause less stress, more certainty of your journey, and make it easier over all. Yes, the journey is still not pleasant, but it’s bearable. 

When I tell my friends about my journey home, some of them are in awe. All they have to do is sit on a train for an hour and they get the same result as me. Yes, that makes me jealous, the ease of it all for them. The simplicity of being able to go home. It is all worth it to me though, the travelling. I might be jet lagged, worn out, stiff from the plane ride, but guess what, I get to go home! When I step into the arrivals hall my family will be there to greet me, after not having seen them for 3 months. Plus, did I mention, it’s 30 degrees in Vietnam? A break for the depressing weather is worth quite a bit, even a long journey. 

Friday, March 15, 2013

The List.

If you're a TCK, you know how much we treasure food from our home country. It is a delicacy, to be eaten as a special treat. For me, it was Hagelslag, a Dutch breakfast food that was nowhere to be found except for in Holland. The same went for Dutch licorice, my favorite candy that became rare for me to get my hands on. Whenever we had a visitor, we always asked them to bring things for us. It was like a exchange; you bring us Dutch food and we'll give you a place to stay. So they would come bearing packs of Hageslag and licorice, and the thoughtful ones would even bring Dutch magazines.These products would be stored in a special cupboard that we were only allowed to take from if we asked our parents. It has like the holy grail of the house.

Friends and family didn't have it too bad, my parents never allowed us to ask for more then two products. This was always a hard choice, and my brother and I would sit and plan which products we would ask for together, to get the most out of the opportunity. When my Dad went on bussiness to Holland however, it was a whole different story. There were no limits then, and "the list" would be produced. A list of items which we "needed". This included toiletries, clothing items, food, books, magazines, anything that was remotely Dutch. We got greedy at the opportunity to get our hands on Dutch things. This often resulted in my Dad having to buy a extra suitcase just to fit everything in to bring back. His coming home was always the best. We would sit around his suitcase and bask in the glory of Dutch products, and be giddy for days on end.

This wasn't only for Dutch products. When we moved to Vietnam, we started to miss Chinese food. I missed Pretz and Pocky snacks while my brother wanted to get his hands on some Hi-Chew candy. So whenever my Dad went to China for business (and this was quite often), he would bring this stuff back from us. It was a little piece of the past, and whenever we devoured our treats, it would always bring back memories.

The reason I'm writing a post on this is because I have been sent "the list". Me now being in Western civilization, I can get my hands on things that are not available in Vietnam. The list includes toiletries from Boots, books, and Easter chocolate. I'm glad to bring this stuff back for them, as I know how much I always enjoyed it when people did it for me. So when I travel back home next week, half my suitcase will be taken up by items from "the list".

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Mulan.

After being told that we were moving to China (see my last blog post on how that happened!), my dad decided to take me to see Mulan. His thought process was that if he showed me a movie about China, I might be more excited about it. He treated me to popcorn and a drink in the cinema so I was a happy child, until the movie started.

I don't know if you have even seen Mulan, but it is not a sweet, happy film all the way through. Sure, Mushu is adorable and funny, and Yao, Ling and Chien Po can make anyone crack up. The film is however largely taken up by a battle, mainly the preparations for it. Now, there aren't a whole lot of scenes that have fighting in them, but Shan Yu (the guy leading the Hun army) freaked me out. With his yellow/green eyes, very harsh shaped eyebrows and his creepy grin, he gave me the shivers. Plus, his bird only made it worse. Keep in mind, I was seven years old at this point, so my thought process went something like this; this creepy man is Chinese, so all Chinese people are like this, I am going to live in China, it is going to be horrible. It's safe to say that by the end of the film, I was more opposed to moving then I was before.

So, what was meant to be a positive step towards becoming used to the idea of moving to China, turned into a scared seven year old. Why would I want to move to a country that was being attacked by a scary man with his bird and his huge army? My dad explained to me numerous times how the movie was not real, and that the people in China are not like that. To redeem his first attempt, he bought me a children's book about China. It was filled with pictures of the cities, the people, the food, the scenery. I loved that book, and it overshadowed my nightmares of Shan Yu. It took some convincing, but slowly I opened up to the idea of moving again.

So a note to any parents reading this that are in a similar position my dad was in; watch the movie before showing it to your child. I love my dad and I know he tried his very best to make the move easiest for me, and I look back at this now and laugh. Although Shan Yu still haunts my dreams sometimes. 

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

We're moving.

When I was little, I never thought that I would live anywhere except for Eindhoven, where I was born. I knew my dad traveled to China many months of the year, but that was work, so it didn't impact me, right? Well, as I found out when I was 7, wrong.

Looking back, I understand how hard it must have been for my parents. How do you tell your 7 year old daughter that you are moving to China? There is no easy way to go about it, sugar coating it won't make much of a difference. After all, you are telling your child you are taking her out of her known environment, away from her friends, school, dance class, and family, and placing her into a culture that is 100% foreign to her. My parents took the approach of bribing. This might sounds bad, but it was probably a smart move. Take you kid to their favorite place, and such big news might seem a little less horrifying.

It happened in one of my favorite places in all of Eindhoven. My parents treated us to a day at the indoor swimming pool. Now, let me just tell you, this place was amazing. It had 5 slides, a wave bath, and as a little kid, it was paradise! So needless to say, when my parents spontaneously took me there, I was ecstatic. Yet, I was too young to be slightly suspicious. After a few hours of running around, trying to go on the slides as many times as possible, my dad took me to the little kids pool for a "chat". I wish I could remember the exact words that came out of his mouth, but it was something along the lines of; "You know how daddy always goes far away for work? To China? How would you feel about going with me, living in China?". And just like that, my world shattered. Well, that's a bit over dramatic, I was 7 after all, but it's safe to say that I was feeling a mixture of confusion, anger, and resentment.

Needless to say, this memory is imprinted in my mind. Every time I see a swimming pool, I think back to that moment; the moment I became a TCK.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

A new move.

Today I got a text from my mom, going something like this: "Bangkok it is!!!". A very similar text followed from my dad. Have you guessed it? Yup, my family is moving to Bangkok. After three years of Hanoi, it is time to move once again. Only this time, I am not moving with them, I'll be on the side lines. This is the first move that I will not be a part of, and there is something a little bit sad about it. While moves are never easy, they somehow bring a family closer together. You miss friends together, are nervous about a new place together, and are excited for new experiences together. They will be moving to a place which I will have no real connection with. I won't go to school there, or have a job there, it will now just be the place my family lives.

Would it be strange to say that I am a bit jealous? Not because of the place they are moving to (although I certainly wouldn't complain about Bangkok, it has been one of my favorite places for a long time!), but because they are moving without me. At the moment, when I Skype my mom, I can relate to the people she talks about, the places she went to in the weekend, because I lived in Hanoi myself for 2 years. Next year, this will all be different. Although I will visit them in their new home, it won't exactly be my "home", as I have no connections to the place (at least, that's what I say now. If you read my post on "home", we all know that soon I will probably be calling Bangkok "home"!)

I suppose this is the way our family in Holland always felt. Numerous times we moved, and when we talked about our "home", they were not able to truly relate. I never realized how hard it must have been for them, time after time again when we moved. Now I am in that same place, and boy, I have a feeling I am going to have a hard time with this move! Of course, I wish my parents and brother the best in Bangkok, and hope they have a smooth move. However, I am not going to lie and say that a part of me wishes I was 15 again, and going through another move with them! However with every move comes heartbreak and tears about leaving friends and loved places behind. This is the part I won't miss, but dismissing it would be dismissing reality. I know that it will be a rough time for my family, particular my brother, and it will be my job to be there to support them. I will try my best at this, and hopefully succeed, because I have enough experience to do so!


Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Tradition.

It's hard to create and uphold a tradition when you move around quite a bit. There is no restaurant to go to for every birthday, no park to visit every Sunday afternoon. You often end up with a series of traditions, a tradition per country. My family's tradition in Hanoi was to have bagels for dinner every wednesday, because we lived close to a bakery that sold the best bagels. Every Saturday morning, I would visit the Weekend Market with my mom. In Shanghai, we would visit Century Park on sunny weekends, me on my roller blades and my parents and brother on a four wheeled bicycle. Whenever my mom would pick me and my brother up from school, we would get treated to a garlic french bread at Paris Baguette. In Beijing, whenever we went to Decathlon, my brother and I would get Pop Chicken at KFC. And on Wednesday nights, whether summer or winter, my brother and I were allowed to go get ice cream at the nearby grocery shop for desert. The list goes on, and it's making me nostalgic thinking back to all these traditions. Yes, they were short term, but they are so valuable in my heart. I do wonder though, do these things count as traditions? According to the dictionary, a tradition is:
"a specific custom or practice of standing"
This specific definition does not mention time. How long do you have to do something before it becomes a tradition? I suppose that differs for everyone, and as a TCK, I think my time requirement for a tradition to be created has significantly decreased. As soon as something is done the same for 3 times, it becomes a tradition in my mind. But there has always been one thing, one true tradition, that has stayed the same for the past 7 years.

For Chinese New Year, or TET when living in Vietnam, we would go to Krabi, Thailand. A week long vacation that included the sun, sea, beach, and most importantly, family time. We knew our favorite restaurant there (the fancy Italian for if we had something to celebrate), our favorite place for drinks (the beach bar where my parents told us we were moving to Beijing), our favorite dessert (Swensens Ice Cream, or a banana roti), and our favorite nearby island (Railey Beach). It was something I looked forward to every year, because I knew that Krabi would always be there, the same as the year before. It was a little bit of stability whenever I moved. Yes, it is a very extravagant tradition, but it is the one true tradition in my heart. Which is why it was so hard to break tradition this year. This blog post was inspired by me sitting in my cold room, alone, during TET/Chinese New Year. This week has been hard, knowing that for the past 7 years, my family and I would have been together this week, enjoying the sun. My parents decided to finish this tradition, and instead they are spending the week in Koh Lanta, close to Krabi. This makes me very happy, knowing that Krabi will always be 'our' place, the place for the four of us. I know that sounds very selfish, not wanting my parents and brother to enjoy Krabi without me, but I am ever so protective of my one true tradition.

If you and your family uphold a tradition, I tell you one thing: treasure it!