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! 

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!

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. 

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!

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.

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.

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!