to my friends who want to live abroad

I have wonderful friends who have expressed their desire to live abroad for a spell with their kids, immerse in other cultures, try new foods, learn new languages, make new friends. 

First, I think this plan of yours is awesome. And so much more welcome to hear than “you are so brave to be doing that with your kids,” which really means, “I would never subject my kids to the stress and trauma of having to adapt to a new culture.”

Second, I thought I’d tell you about how I don’t think any of us fully realized how many of our social values we’d have to shelve or re-work in order to function day-to-day in a different country or culture. I don’t mean “reconsider your decision.” I mean keep this in mind and think about the limits of how much you are willing to change your own behavior and how much conflict between you and your host culture you are willing to live with.  Of course all this varies from country to country, culture to culture.

Depending on where you go, you may have to deal with being part of a class system that will feel uncomfortable at times, possibly all the time. Friends who are concerned with issues of equity and privilege may find them much less subtle than they did in the US.  It can be hard acknowledging that you will have privileges that you wouldn’t in your home country. Here, and in many places I have lived, the color of your skin, gender, national origin, and size/make of your car make a huge difference in how you are treated. This is certainly the case in the US as well, but can be much more obvious and socially acceptable in some other countries, with less opportunity to speak out about inequality due to dominant culture or your desire to keep your visa and stay out of jail.  More about this here and here and most recently, here.

There’s also unfamiliar and unwelcome etiquette: The other day I walked up to a door in the kids’ school, opened it, and attempted to wave the man behind me through. I have no idea where he is from but it obviously would have been a mortal wound to his ego to have walked through that door that I was holding. So I went first. Then there is “ma’am.” I know some people are quite offended by ma’am, but in some countries (and much of the Southern USA, thank you, ma’am) you would have to get used to it.  Ma’am is the mildest version.  The manager of our compound here inserts “madam” into every sentence he says to me.  Our driver in Dhaka also used madam, and paired it with a slight bow.  There’s no one way to deal with it- you can live with it and go ahead and call them by their first names like most everyone else does, you can try to insist they use your first name also, you can call them sir and madam as well.

I have found that one of the most challenging parts of being in a new place is adjusting my sense of my own freedom of expression and freedom of movement, with both of those seeming more limited by social influences than anything else. Of course there are so many other things to take into account –so much that you need to learn as you go along, because no one person’s advice or even a whole shelf of travel books can replace just stepping out, paying attention, and starting conversations with the people around you.

stop whining, you can do this.

Nearly a year and a half ago, anticipating a difficult adjustment to life in Qatar, I wrote myself this letter, which turned out to be a great comfort in my first months here, even after most of my concerns about moving here turned out to be justified. Now, after a transformative summer on the other side of the world, it still applies but it’s also time for another letter, firmer this time.  For eight weeks I was living somewhere I loved every day, working with very sincere, dedicated, hilarious people and energetic kids, on my feet, shaded by forests, eating food grown nearby, swimming in the lake just down the hill.  I was reminded where I am happiest, and Doha has very little in common with any aspect of that.  Here I spend a lot of time driving, grocery shopping, and sweating.  Wood and water are luxuries. It’s not survivable at the moment to spend much time outside of buildings or cars when the sun is up and only barely when it is down.  Until school starts I will let my kids have turns on the computer, watch hours of movies, play arcade games, and eat junk food at the mall.  I have not swum in cool water or just lifted my eyes to green hills for nearly two weeks and it’s not likely to happen again until next summer.

I’m a little afraid that if I give in to walls and malls and consumer culture I’ll come out the other end just as helpless and dependent as I went into this move, and that fear realized could crush me.  I’m ready to stop trailing. Sure motherhood is this wildly worthy profession and all but I got a taste of more this summer and was not surprised that I felt like a better mother during that period, too. 

Dear M,

First, stop whining, you know better.  Part of living so many places, meeting so many people, is that the current news of others’ struggles all over the world become more real and you realize that your own seem that much more insignificant.  You’ve been to Liberia, Guinea, Sierra Leone, you can imagine the anger fear and heartbreak of the Ebola epidemic in those countries.  Friends who fled wars have shared stories with you of torture by border guards and betrayal by long-trusted neighbors.  You’ve had an afternoon-long glimpse of how ALS has changed a family. There is no possible comparison with your Doha ennui or the relatively gentle betrayals that have shaken your world but certainly not ravaged it.

If you dwell on those green hills and how happy you were there you are never going to make it through this year, and you have to do that.  Get past your fear that to make the best of what’s available in Qatar will get you stuck here. You can find ways to be happy and work on how to leave well at the same time.

You don’t have to love Doha but you have to try to do what you can to enjoy your life here. Don’t squander this year. There is still a lot for you to learn here. You have it easy, really:  you have a car to drive, you have food, water, shelter, entertainment, and relative freedom to express yourself. You have a computer with which to Skype, email, or message your friends from here to the other side of the world and a mobile phone too. You have a camera to help you share the beauty you come across. There are plenty of opportunities to connect with interesting people, take classes, and explore.

When you start to feel trapped again, make plans, consult your wise wise friends near and far, do what you need to do to reassure yourself that this won’t last forever and that you will be ready when Doha spits you out.

You can do this.

M