I guess it's normal that if you socialise in expat circles that your friends will come and go, a constant cycle of change. This time of year always has the most upheaval. Families wait until the end of the school year and the next day, the moving van shows up and they're gone. I've been to a lot of going away dinners lately. Some are good friends, some are acquaintances, and some fall between.
I was at a play group this morning and we were talking about home and what it means. One of us, an American married to a Brit, said she no longer has a home. After five years in France and a bit over one here, they do not even know which continent, let alone country, they would go to next. They have no permanent address or home to go back to.
This feeling of no roots is a hard one. I have previously written that I am in between roots. I pulled them out of the US, yet they are not yet firmly in place in Germany. This is my home, but I am still missing that bit that makes me get it. Jokes about TV shows or culture are lost on me. It would be as if I joked about the required Catcher in the Rye or The Facts of Life with a German (I tried it last week- the thud that the cultural reference made when it hit the floor was LOUD).
However, I, unlike my play group friend, am already home. I have no real US address, other than some mail going to mom & dad. I never thought I would become an immigrant since, to me, an immigrant is someone who goes to another country iactively searching for a better life. At least that's what we were taught about the "American Dream." Although I left the US because life in Germany could be better, I didn't leave searching for a better life or knowing it would be better here. And it is. We get six weeks vacation time, guaranteed health care, and if you are sick you still get paid (forget sick days!). Most importantly, I can have the luxury of not working the first few years of my children's lives.
As for so many friends and acquaintances leaving, it's hard not to circle like a vulture in order to buy (cheap!) their barely used appliances and electronics that won't work in the US. When will someone with a gigantic plasma TV move???
I was at a play group this morning and we were talking about home and what it means. One of us, an American married to a Brit, said she no longer has a home. After five years in France and a bit over one here, they do not even know which continent, let alone country, they would go to next. They have no permanent address or home to go back to.
This feeling of no roots is a hard one. I have previously written that I am in between roots. I pulled them out of the US, yet they are not yet firmly in place in Germany. This is my home, but I am still missing that bit that makes me get it. Jokes about TV shows or culture are lost on me. It would be as if I joked about the required Catcher in the Rye or The Facts of Life with a German (I tried it last week- the thud that the cultural reference made when it hit the floor was LOUD).
However, I, unlike my play group friend, am already home. I have no real US address, other than some mail going to mom & dad. I never thought I would become an immigrant since, to me, an immigrant is someone who goes to another country iactively searching for a better life. At least that's what we were taught about the "American Dream." Although I left the US because life in Germany could be better, I didn't leave searching for a better life or knowing it would be better here. And it is. We get six weeks vacation time, guaranteed health care, and if you are sick you still get paid (forget sick days!). Most importantly, I can have the luxury of not working the first few years of my children's lives.
As for so many friends and acquaintances leaving, it's hard not to circle like a vulture in order to buy (cheap!) their barely used appliances and electronics that won't work in the US. When will someone with a gigantic plasma TV move???
1 comment:
Sorry we didn't have a plasma TV to sell when we left. We knew we were only going to be a few years so we got by with a TV that one of Peter's co-workers sold us. I love reading your blog - it give me heimweh. I am not even sure if I am spelling that right anymore. So sad. Keep it up - I love to see your children growing. Much love from Houston, soon to be relocating again to Philly, Deirdre
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