Hello! I have a new post up at the blog for Expats I write for. Below is an excerpt. I hope you’ll click through and read the whole thing, plus the other pieces in the current collection.
Finally, we packed a lot of bags and bins and set off on our global adventure. Becoming an expat means belonging to yet another exclusive club. But–strange dichotomy–it’s a club full of people who live where they don’t belong. Learning the language, the cultural norms, and the common body language of the local people has enabled me to fit in. But as soon as I open my mouth and say the words, my accent gives me away. I have practiced and adjusted and pushed my tongue into unnatural patterns to master the phonetics of my second language, but there’s no mistaking my foreignness. It seems I don’t even have to speak. Just as I walk down the street, people say “hello” instead of “hola,” knowing immediately that I might be a willing recipient of their English practice. I’m constantly looking around in my host country, asking myself how I can make myself belong.
Click here to read the whole essay, “Where Do I Belong?” on takingroute.net.
"people looking for community exist in every corner of the world" - love that, Rosalie! Someone once told me that everybody we run into is "at least medium lonely" and I try to remember that during the times I feel like an outsider living overseas. Thank you for sharing :)