Jakarta

InterNations guestblogger Abu Muhammed, a US expatriate who is now living in Saudia Arabia, shares his impressions of his first trip to Indonesia.

The first thing that I noticed about Jakarta was how domestic the airport seemed.

It reminded me of my childhood neighbor’s front yard. Her name was Ms White, and she had a lot of cats, who were eventually killed by Sam, my rabid (or crazy, depending on whom you asked) German shepherd. Before the carnage (and her hasty move away from the neighborhood), Ms White kept a 1950s-style yard, where her assortment of plants flourished. The plants, signs, and even the lawns that I spotted as my taxi left the Jakarta terminal had the same home-spun feel, due to the quaint arrangement of monuments and greenery.

I was tired beyond words. I had brought something to read, but the slightly elevated temperature of the cabin and my excitement at making the first-time trip to Indonesia kept me marinated in my own sweat. As the cab navigated the throughways from the airport, I leaned from the near center of the back seat and rested my shoulder against the window to give my sore behind a rest, after nine hours of near-immobility on the plane. The cityscape along the highway appeared ubiquitously covered with rust, which concealed itself within the approach of the purple dim of night.

At the advice of a friend, I’d arranged to hire a driver for a week for around a million rupiahs (a hundred US bucks). After the first five minutes on the road, I realized the driver was worth every penny. Jakarta was crisscrossed by a maze of super-highways: under them, there were myriads of streets and byways full of exhaust-spewing jalopies, bumper to bumper, with all kinds of scooters and cycles buzzing through any conceivable space in their trek through the city.

I had driven a cab for five years in the fourth largest city in the US and the prospect of getting behind the wheel in Jakarta still left me in breathless apprehension. Most people, even those who walked, wore pale blue hospital masks. The whole scene seemed rather post-apocalyptic and a bit worrisome for a hapless tourist like me.

As we drove through the city, I saw trenches beside the road, though free of discarded appliances, funneled rivers of fluid that resembled the fluorescent green of anti-freeze and/or something that had the bright, white hardiness of Elmer’s Glue. As we traveled on the main highway, I saw huge buildings that in the States or the Middle East would, by their brownish tinge, be considered abandoned. The area was quite reminiscent of the factory districts of Kensington, Philadelphia, during the free fall “recession”, which killed the local hustle and bustle forever, and the lack of activity on a weekday appeared evident by the sparse foot traffic around here.

And the faces of the people: no one in Jakarta seemed particularly sad or happy to me. Perhaps this was just my cultural misinterpretation of the politely neutral public “face” in Southeast Asia. Or maybe this was life where people who had jobs shared their two-room box with another desperate soul, and it was okay.

The traffic was like a slow-moving lava stream: every bit of space was packed, and centimeters separated us from side swipes, which, in the most miraculous manner, rarely happened. Once, during our daily drives, I looked up and saw the rusted hull of what had been a passenger train frozen in corrosion at its final destination. At a side door, a young woman holding her infant looked out into the river of cars below.

What amazed me was how clean the young mother looked in contrast to her surroundings. Her clothes and that of her child looked as if she lived as well as I did in my five-star hotel. I thought that since this was how most people in the world lived, maybe my life was the odd exception – an unimaginable style of wealth and pampered indulgences experienced by those who had enough money not to really care about it. In Indonesia’s case, by the way, the country has plenty of millionaires, despite its occasional “third-world” ambiance.

During my last few days in Jakarta, my driver took me up into the mountains, which somehow appeared rainy without rain and gothic without mist. The shops and mountain towns were often nook-like collections of businesses, stores, and masjids that hung precariously between the road and the sloping elevation and the sea beyond. The people who lived outside the city were busy but, unlike their city counterparts, seemed unencumbered with the day-to-day struggle. I sensed peace was something they might experience in their homes, far above the city lights and tangerine haze of Jakarta’s polluted sunrises and purple sunsets.

/Photo credits: 1) Busy Taman Fatahillah by Jimmy McIntyre, 2) Jakarta Skyline Part 2 by flickr user Yohanes Budiyanto, 3) Most Beautiful Picture: Jakarta, public domain)

Filed under: Adventures Abroad, Culture Shock, Guest Author on March 22nd, 2013 | No Comments »

Where Is HOME? – A Film Project by and about Third Culture Kids

“A Third Culture Kid (TCK) is a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents’ culture,” so US American sociologist David C. Pollock.

Aspiring film-maker Aga Alegra and her international, multi-cultural team are now trying to explore the lives of TCKs in the upcoming documentary “Where Is HOME?” We have interviewed the director below, and you can find more information about their project and their fundraising campaign on the dedicated movie website.

1. Tell us a bit about your background. You are obviously a Third Culture Kid yourself. What was your childhood like?

Yes! I am indeed a Third Culture Kid (TCK), although I don’t fall into any of the main categories (many TCKs have parents who are employed in the military, missionary, diplomatic, or business sectors).

My life as a TCK began at age 12, when my parents escaped Communist Poland, and I suddenly found myself in a refugee accommodation in Hamburg, Germany. It was there, among new friends, that I first learned to see that friendships extend beyond the boundaries of languages and cultures. However, I did learn to speak Farsi and Spanish during the two years that I spent with my multicultural “family” there.

2. How exactly did you get the idea to talk about your life (and the lives of other TCKs) in the form of a movie? Do you have any previous experience in film-making?

This is my first film, and in many ways the project began very fortuitously!

In fact, I didn’t even discover that I was a TCK until I hit 30. This was a point in my life when I longed desperately to be content with my decision to settle down in Toronto and start a family, and yet I had to constantly fight the feelings of restlessness inside of me. I felt so alone in my struggle that I actually turned to Google for an explanation, and that’s how I first came across the TCK community. I was hit with an overwhelming sense of having found my “tribe”! I would say that was my moment of inspiration when my passion to tell our story first began.

When I began filming, I didn’t plan at all to talk about my own TCK experience. I was on a personal quest to answer the existential question “Where is home?” and wanted to share what I found with the rest of the world. Because I didn’t have an answer yet, I thought that by talking to other TCKs, I would be able to understand how they came to cope with being uprooted, with feeling torn between many different cultures, and whether or not they were able to find “HOME” while remaining in constant motion. That’s how the documentary began to take shape as a narrative exploring the lives of four other TCKs – Warona, Maartje, As’ad, and Ray.

But then I moved to Barcelona in the middle of making the film, had to start life afresh, and began to literally live through all the stages of answering “Where is home?” myself. And so that’s how my own story came to be a part of the film. Even though it was a difficult decision for me to expose my story in front of the camera, I hope that it will resonate with everyone who watches the film and shares a similar sense of wanderlust.

3. How many other TCKs did you interview for this project? Did you “shadow” them in their lives? How did you find them? And what about your crew-members? Are they TCKs, too?

The documentary features four main characters, and I also filmed five other TCKs. Most of their stories are told in narrative form, but I did interview one of the main characters over the course of several months when he was in the transition phase of moving from Canada to Asia. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg!

I also interviewed more than 20 TCKs on the phone, and I have heard from so many TCKs over the course of the last four years. In the beginning, I connected with other TCKs through forums such as TCKid and by posting ads, but a lot of them reached out to me after I posted my short film to YouTube. Some have become my very close friends.

Alethea, my production assistant, and I met because of the film! And some of my other crew-members are also TCKs.

4. In which countries did you shoot the footage? What’s your favorite memory of filming? And what was the hardest part about the project?

We filmed in Canada (Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver), as well as Trinidad & Tobago, Spain, and Germany. The most valuable thing I gained from filming was the wonderful friendships I have made through connecting with the people I met or interviewed for the film.

Of course, getting to film in all those different locations was a definite perk … I love experiencing new cultures firsthand! As I hadn’t expected to be able to go to Trinidad & Tobago, I have to say that visiting that beautiful island stands out as one of my favorite memories.

As for the hardest part, learning all the ins and outs of film-making truly is an on-going process, and running a project on a limited budget has been challenging as well. But this truly is a project of passion, and so we’re ready to weather all the ups and downs!

5. How are you planning to distribute, promote, and screen the finished movie?

Distribution will mostly be through DVD production and sales. As our aim is to produce a high-quality product, we are looking to source DVD encoding and mastering to a professional company.

As for promotion, this is an ongoing process for us. We are trying to network with any like-minded international organizations who we feel have an audience that would love our film (and hopefully be inspired by it!). We’re already connected with the TCK community at large, and we’re so happy to be featured on InterNations!

As for screening – once the film is complete, our first goal is to submit it to film festivals. So the premiere will hopefully be at a major international film festival. As for future screenings, we are happy to organize screening events around the world.

We just wrapped up our Indiegogo campaign, through which we were able to raise some funds to kickstart the post-production process. At this point, we anticipate a release date for the film in June of 2013.

With any independent film, the quality of the end product depends so much on what the overall budget is, which is why any further donations we get are so invaluable to us. We hope to be able to raise another $19,000 in order to really compete in film festivals on the international level. We have so much beautiful footage and we truly believe that the message of our film will help to inspire others to see the world as one united community regardless of where “HOME” is, so we’re keeping our fingers crossed!

6. And finally: what’s the best thing about being a TCK for you? And what is the more negative side?

The best thing about being a TCK is the ability to feel at home anywhere in the world and the ability to easily connect with everyone on this beautiful planet. Because we’ve had to learn to recreate a sense of community for ourselves with each move as a child, by the time we reach adulthood this becomes second nature for many TCKs. And since we are generally the odd-ones-out in each new community, we’ve had to quickly find common ground in order to understand those around us.

Also, I don’t think I’d know how to speak seven languages if I hadn’t had the experience of growing up amongst many cultures.

It’s hard to say that there is a negative side because I am so grateful for my TCK experience! Of course, there is the innate restlessness, and there is always a sense of loss in having to say goodbye to people and places. However, with each passing day I’ve learned to embrace the restlessness a little bit more and simply accept the curious and open-minded side of myself.

(Photo credits: 1) Where Is Home? – The Film: Official Website, by Alethea Wang 2) Where Is Home? – The Film: Official Facebook Page, by Aga Alegra 3) De l’Isle globe (1765), by Wikimedia Commons user Mnhs)

Filed under: Adventures Abroad, Expat Interviews, InterNations Recommends, Third Culture Kids on March 19th, 2013 | 11 Comments »

Fair Verona

InterNations team member Christin, a US expat living in Munich, goes on a trip to Verona, Italy, for the romance-themed town festival called “Verona in Love”. But it’s the city itself that she falls in love with.

The day before Valentine’s Day, I found myself sitting on a park bench at Porta San Giorgio, a small park along the Adige River, staring at the backdrop of the Verona cityscape. The imposing duomo on the other side was eclipsed by the setting sun, and local Veronese were walking their dogs on the torn-up sidewalk. It was hard for me to believe that earlier that morning, I had boarded a train in snowy Munich. But here I was, just getting to know fair Verona, of Romeo and Juliet fame.

Every year around this time, the city celebrates Verona in Love, a four-day festival when Italy’s city of love comes to life with romantic markets and performances.

Verona’s Heritage

On my first day, I explored the old town, which has made Verona a UNESCO world heritage site. I discovered the Castelvecchio, a medieval castle connected to the Scaligero Bridge, and Piazza Bra, dominated by the well-preserved Roman arena. Amusingly, the latter was juxtaposed with the street lamps along the square, adorned with giant red hearts for the festival.

Also noteworthy was Via Mazzini, the pedestrian high street decorated with hanging heart-shaped lights, and Piazza delle Erbe, a charming market square, and former site of the local Roman forum. “Juliet’s” house, on the other hand, was scrawled with graffiti and jammed with photo-taking tourists. Though an old building, it has no real connection to the Giulietta that Shakespeare’s play was based on, and the famous balcony was actually added in the 1930s to attract more tourists.

After winding my way through the maze of old alleyways, I found the impressive Pietra Bridge, connected to the ancient Roman theater and the cypress-covered hillside, with the Castel Pietro on top standing guard from the other side of the river. I walked along the Adige River, past San Giorno Cathedral to a small park, where I sat on a bench and watched the sun set.

Lake Garda

The next morning I visited Sirmione, a small village on the shores of Lake Garda. The peninsular village is protected by the dominating Scaligero Castle, built in the 13th century. Crossing the castle bridge over the lake’s crystal waters is the only entrance to the town. The quiet village was dotted with an abundance of pizzerias, cafés, and gelaterias, which are bustling with tourists in summer. I spent the morning strolling through the cobbled alleyways, along the azure waters of Lake Garda, lined with the snow-capped Dolomites looming over the northern shore. Before returning to Verona, I paused for a pizza and a pistachio gelato, al fresco at one of the castle’s adjacent cafés.

After a bit of rest, I decided to enjoy Verona by night. Most of the Valentine’s Day themed attractions were already closed, but I was fortunate enough to get a taste of the chocolate market that had opened at Piazza Bra, where I discovered my new favorite beverage, cioccolata bianco (hot white chocolate). You have not had a proper hot chocolate until you have tried the Italian version, thick and creamy! For me, cioccolata bianco is a surprisingly mild alternative to the strong cioccolata classico (classic chocolate).

La Serenissima

On my third day in Veneto, I set out on an excursion to the city of Venice. I had been there six years before, but since it was only an hour and half away by train, I couldn’t resist coming back. I spent the day exploring the alley-like canals and small shops, famed for selling intricate Murano glass, and revisited the grand Piazza San Marco and Rialto Bridge before returning to Verona that evening.

Back in the old town, I decided to try a Veronese restaurant near the new theater called “La Taverna di Via Stella”. My meal consisted of polenta (a cornmeal side dish), followed by Bigoli con Caval (thick pasta with horse ragout) and paired with a glass of Bardolino wine, native to the region. Horse is a specialty of Verona. After having tried it, I can now understand how it could have gone unnoticed for so long in certain convenience meals that you could find at many supermarkets across Europe until the recent food scandal. But actually, I much prefer it at an Italian tavern rather than hidden in canned Spaghetti Bolognese!

Love in All Its Shapes and Forms

The following day, I finally had the chance to enjoy some more of the Verona in Love festivities. In the Piazza dei Signori, I visited a small market that sold regional food, wine, and love-themed crafts. Nearby was the Cortile Mercato Vecchio, made famous by the Lamberti Tower. Here was a pink heart-shaped square where onlookers could enjoy live music, leave love letters, and have their names etched in Gothic writing in seals of love. Little girls were playing in the square with pink balloons, and couples of all ages had their photos taken while a teenage band played “Hallelujah,” by Leonard Cohen.

In Verona, it feels like the holiday does not only celebrate couples, but rather the feeling of love in all its shapes and forms. I walked back through the city one last time before catching my train back to Munich, hoping that the warm and fuzzy feeling I now had might help me to brave the cold wintery weather awaiting me back home.

What’s your favorite town festival? And the most romantic city, in your opinion?

(Photo credits: 1) Partial View of Verona, Italy by Wikimedia Commons user Evilfreak86 2) Casa di Giulietta (Statue) by Wikimedia Commons user Testus 3) Verona: Maschera Veneziana by Wikimedia Commons user Twice25)

Filed under: Adventures Abroad, InterNations News, InterNations Team News on March 15th, 2013 | 1 Comment »

Expats in History: A Zanzibari Princess in Germany

Our Activity Groups Manager Franziska reflects on the life of one of her historic role models, Sayyida Salima bint Said, born as a princess of Oman and Zanzibar and later known as Emily Ruete.

In 2011, I stumbled upon the newest book by Nicole C. Vosseler, a German novelist. “Stars over Zanzibar” promised a good read, and I was pleased to find that, just like her previous two novels, it had expatriation as an underlying theme.

Contrary to my expectations, it was not a story about a European heroine who finds love and adventure in faraway lands. Rather, it retold the incredible life of Sayyida Salima bint Said, an Omani princess who grew up on Zanzibar, fell in love with a German merchant, and followed him to his native Hamburg. After his early death, she struggled to make ends meet, but achieved moderate fame with her memoirs, which were published in 1886 – the first known autobiography of an Arab woman.

I consider her a role model because she managed to brave a multitude of challenges in her life and faced expatriation time and again with a courage that few of us possess.

Childhood and Youth on Zanzibar

In fact, Salima hailed from an “expat” family herself. Her mother Jilfidan had been born and grown up in Circassia, and it was there that she was captured by slave raiders. Traded to the Zanzibari palace, she became one of many concubines of the reigning Sultan (Circassian women were then renowned for their beauty and elegance throughout the Middle East). Salima’s father originated from Oman, but after the conquest of Zanzibar, he decided to relocate to the fertile island.

The princess grew up bilingually in the various palaces of the Omani rulers. After both her parents died, she retreated to one of her plantations in the countryside. Having been embroiled in the bitter succession conflict between two of her brothers, she led a comparatively quiet and sheltered life there.

A Scandalous Love Affair

Salima’s move back to the capital, however, brought her in contact with her neighbour, German merchant Rudolph Ruete. They fell in love and soon after, she became pregnant with his child. When her pregnancy became visible, scandal loomed: her family had been aware of the relationship, but a Muslimah could never marry a Christian man. So she had to flee Zanzibar on a British ship to Aden.

In Yemen she gave birth to her first son Heinrich and was finally reunited with Rudolph. After her conversion to Protestant Christianity (with which she forfeited all her possessions in Zanzibar), her name was changed to Emily. Thereafter the lovers married and traveled to Germany via France. Sadly, the baby died en route to the family’s new home.

In her new life in Hamburg, the former princess had to deal with culture shock, discrimination, and her role as a mother of several young children. Shortly after the birth of her fourth child, her husband Rudolph died in a tragic tram accident and left the young widow destitute. To support her family, she gave language classes in Arabic, published her memoirs about her origins in Zanzibar, and relocated repeatedly, ever restless.

A Woman in Exile

In a desperate attempt, Mrs Ruete even appealed to the German authorities, a move which brought her to the attention of both the German and British sovereigns. It was rumoured that Bismarck, the German chancellor, intended to install her son as the Sultan of Zanzibar or use her as a pawn during the German-British colonial crisis in East Africa. However, when the power play between the imperialist nations (“the scramble for Africa”) came to an end, neither government took any more interest in Salima/Emily and her children.

Later in life, the homesick woman fulfilled her heart’s desire and revisited the island twice. Between 1889 and 1914, she travelled extensively through the Middle East and lived in Beirut and Jaffa for longer periods. In 1920, she relocated to Jena, to be close to one of her daughters, where she died four years later, at the ripe old age of 79.

Under the name of Emily Ruete, she was buried at the side of her husband, in a park-like cemetary in the Hamburg neighborhood of Ohlsdorf. In her coffin, the family placed a little bag of sand that Emily/Salima had brought from her last visit to Zanzibar and kept as a cherished souvenir ever since. Her descendants engraved a quote by the German poet Theodor Fontane on her tombstone: “Der ist in tiefster Seele treu, Wer die Heimat liebt wie du. – Faithful in his heart and soul is he / Who loves his home as much as you.”

However, the last word should belong to Salima/Emily herself, with a quotation that sums up her lifelong ambivalence about her identity: “When I left my home, I was a true Arab and a good Muslimah. What am I today? A bad Christian and but half a German.”

You can read more about Salima’s / Emily’s experiences on Zanzibar in her memoirs.

(Photo credits: 1) Salima as an Omani princess 2) Salima/Emily Ruete together with her husband and two of their three surviving children; pictures in the public domain)

Filed under: Adventures Abroad, Culture Shock, Expat Women, Expats Past and Present, InterNations Recommends on March 14th, 2013 | No Comments »

In Search of Fingerprints in Jeddah

Our guestblogger Abu Muhammed from Saudi Arabia muses upon stress caused by ongoing culture shock and, paradoxically, by the slow pace of life in his new home.

I heard an acquaintance of a friend of mine was told to leave the KSA because at the age of 33, he had developed a heart condition.

He’d complained about several stress factors in his life: his job as a teacher to Saudi youth with plenty of lazy students and permissive parents; an administration with a department-store mentality (the customer, despite any evidence to the contrary, is always right — making you the one on trial when matters prove unsatisfactory for somebody); then there was pressure to turn the march of successful uniformity into something like academic progress – all while running on the tread mill of Saudi nepotism (usually referred to as “custom”).

He cared too much, so his body had extracted its revenge.

I thought of him as I drove through the slow-moving traffic on my way to the immigration office to have someone roll my fingers in ink and then on my FBI Criminal Clearance, one of the many necessary parts to having my paperwork processed for a new visa and work permit.

“No, not here,” said the sweaty receptionist in a dingy military uniform. “Philistine Street.”

After two hours of lunch traffic among dusty construction works, I was told at the “other” immigration office tucked behind an old sheet-metal fence that they didn’t do that sort of thing, either, in the age of retina scans and glass hand scanners.

Not today.

I could feel the stress mounting around my kidneys; the tension in my back that bent one over slightly, no matter how comfortable the chair. Despite the fact I hadn’t eaten all day, I was glad my empty stomach was enough to prevent the onset of the customary nausea.

I knew what it really was. The slowness in the pace of life here made anyone from the devil’s triangle of New York, Philadelphia and New Jersey like a ribbing engine burning rubber against the hardest of brick walls. Trying to function like time matters is the Westerner’s problem. Though intellectually, most of us knew this, to admit it would be to acknowledge what you did and said in such a place was like the plastic plants covered with dust, alongside the people who sat in the countless offices along the numerous mazes of nameless avenues and streets. None of it really mattered in the greater scheme of things.

Though we cursed it while there, the pressures and stresses of home were wrapped around a purposeful existence. The battle made the heart pump; the struggle had a meaning you might one day be known for. Work was part of your life and identity; not the façade of what was ultimately unimportant.

Suddenly, I missed the snow too.

Has your struggle with culture shock ever made you feel frustrated, stressed, or homesick?

(Photocredit: 1) Identity by Wikimedia Commons user Adaiyaalam 2) Jeddah City Hall by Wikimedia Commons user Ammar Shaker)

Filed under: Adventures Abroad, Culture Shock, Guest Author on March 12th, 2013 | No Comments »

My Whirlwind Dutcharican Romance

InterNations guestblogger Jessica, a recent US repatriate from Brussels, remembers how she started a cross-Atlantic long-distance relationship just six weeks before her imminent departure.

In a kingdom far, far away, there is a man who I have fallen in love with. I met my Dutchman (his name for blogging purposes) in the most inconvenient of circumstances. I met him six weeks short of my definite departure from Belgium on a typical Wednesday night at Place du Châtelain in Brussels. Given that the typical Wednesday night there involves many glasses of wine, the sequence of events may be fuzzy.

I stepped on his toes, I attempted to say “I’m sorry” in Dutch (as I overheard him speaking it), looked up (he’s 6’8”), and saw the cutest dimples I have ever seen. My liquid courage gave me no choice but to squeeze his cheeks and tell him how cute he was. He made me laugh with his commentary, and I received an unexpected kiss. That was the beginning of a Dutcharican (Dutch-Puerto Rican) romance.

A few days after our meeting, we met for dinner. I recall telling him, “I did tell you I am leaving in six weeks, right?” He said yes, but it did not detract him from getting to know me better. As we walked from Place Stephanie to Place Flagey on a cool fall Brussels night, we exchanged stories about our travels and lives. We both share a love for traveling, food, and learning new things.

Our first date was intended to be dinner and drinks, but it evolved into a 26-hour date which included walking the streets of Brussels under a rare sunny sky on a car-free Sunday. During those hours, we made a choice to be present in the moments together rather than thinking of my departure. We barely spoke about saying farewell. Instead, we spent time in Brussels, The Hague (his city), and a weekend escape to Paris.

It was not until my last week in Europe that we discussed our future together. We decided a love like this does not come by often and wanted to see what the future holds. That was the beginning of our international cross-continental romance.

As I returned to the United States, not only did I have to get accustomed to a new life after seven years abroad, but also to having my love an ocean away. When we finally spoke about our arrangement, we decided we would try our best not to spend more than sixty days apart. We knew that it would be a little ambitious, but we are grateful we have the resources to make it happen. It is challenging because we are trying to build a relationship with a six-hour time difference and busy schedules.

With the distance also comes the merging of three different cultures. He learned about how large a Latino extended family can truly be during his Christmas visit. I’ve learned about Dutch family customs visiting his parents for tea in Rotterdam. Although different, we both have enjoyed the learning process and the openness of both of our cultures.

The reality is we can never plan who and when we fall in love. The biggest lesson I have learned so far from this experience is to be present. If I would have not taken the risk, I would have not experience such a great romance. Even with its challenges, I would never change the moment I stepped on the Dutchman’s toes.

In the near future, he will be an expat in the United States, getting accustomed to a new life and culture. I am grateful for his willingness to be open to start a new life on a new continent. In the long run it may be me as an expat in the Netherlands. For now, we have to optimize the Facetime, What’s App, and frequent flyer miles.

And what about you? Has expat life ever involved a long-distance relationships for you? How did you make it work?

(Photo credit: Jessica D.)

Filed under: Adventures Abroad, Expat Families & Relationships, Guest Author, Repatriation on March 8th, 2013 | 4 Comments »

From Once-in-a-Lifetime to Lifer: Becoming a Long-Term Expat

Our new guestblogger Polly, a US American expat living in Moscow, ponders on how a brief stint as an EFL teacher turned into her new life as a long-term expatriate. She blogs about her further adventures in Russia on pollyheath: a girl and her travels.

Making the decision to live abroad for any amount of time is a massive undertaking that requires bravery (and a little bit of insanity). What I didn’t consider when I moved to Moscow three years ago was that the initial decision was not so hard – figuring out how long to live abroad would be much more difficult.

Moving abroad for work is often a short-term commitment – something of a once-in-a-lifetime deal. There is a steady ebb and flow to life abroad. In late summer, there is an influx of new foreigners and a subsequent rush of new relationships formed and experiences had. At the end of spring, there is the same rush in the opposite direction as tired adventure-seekers gratefully leave their contracts and head home. In a few months this cycle will inevitably repeat itself, all over the world.

Living as a short-term expat, relationships tend to be more intense. Not only do new arrivals crave companionship in a totally unfamiliar place (often with an unknown language), but because of limited time abroad, they want to wring as much out of their brief experience as possible. There is a sense of urgency that compels the once-in-a-lifetime expat.

But what happens if you don’t fit into this cycle? What if you continue to live abroad, and no longer feel any urgency? What if your once-in-a-lifetime experience turns into your life?

That’s what I’m experiencing now, though I hesitate to call myself a long-term expat. There are those with far more impressive expat resumes – ten, twenty years abroad. But Russia is as much my home as anywhere else, so it’s the best description I have.

It all started in 2010. Listless and jobless after university, I took a job with a large language school in Moscow as an EFL teacher. Initially I intended to stay in Moscow only for the duration of my contract, but somehow I just never left. I’ve had brief stints back in the United States, but for the last three years, Moscow has been my home.

In some ways, I am firmly planted. When newcomers arrive to Moscow, I can show them the ropes: where to go out on the weekends, how to find private students for extra income, how to navigate the metro system. I can order the necessities from the local produkti (a small corner shop with all items behind the counter) with minimal hassle and direct taxi drivers to my home when they inevitably get lost.

However, in other ways, I feel just as lost and confused as I was when I first arrived. This city and its citizens never let me forget that I am not from here: when I get exasperated looks when I’m speaking Russian badly; how the cashiers frown as I smile and thank them excessively; when I confuse one grey Soviet apartment building for another…

There is a certainty of return for the once-in-a-lifetime expat that compensates for the difficulties you encounter in day-to-day life, but for a long-term expat there is no buffer between “life abroad” and “reality” to cushion the blows.

When I moved, I never thought Moscow would feel like home. I never thought I would still be here after three years. And I certainly never anticipated the strange sensation of feeling half at home and half aware that I’m not home at all. If someday I wake up feeling that Moscow is truly home, of course I’d be very happy. However I can try to be content now, just accepting that the life of a long-term expat is strange, uncomfortable, but never dull.

Have you had a similar experience? How did a short assignment abroad turn into something more permanent for you?

(Photo credits: 1) St Basil’s Cathedral by Wikimedia Commons user David Crawshaw 2) Ivan the Great Bell Tower by Wikimedia Commons user Gérard Janot)

Filed under: Adventures Abroad, Guest Author, Moving to Another Country on March 7th, 2013 | 1 Comment »

Skiing in Iran?!

In his recent update from Iran, InterNations expat guestblogger Philip talks about winter sports in the country.

As with my previous articles, I am going to break a few complacent assumptions about the Islamic Republic of Iran, this week about skiing!

In a mountainous country with a vast array of mountain tops, it’s only logical that a skiing industry will develop over time, and Iran is no exception to this point. With the Iranian Rial tumbling further and ruffling the feathers of locals, people visiting the country have found themselves (again) the recipients of a bargain holiday destination.

As Iran sits on the cusp of the Northern Hemisphere and is geographically well placed between Central Asia and Europe, one could fly from Dubai or even Delhi for a week of cheap skiing or snowboarding fun.

All the modern winter gear is available for rent or purchase, and if you need assistance, the shops surrounding the ski resorts stock everything from new salopettes to even a replacement iPad (that’s if you happen to lose yours on the gondola going up the mountain).

The modern skiing industry in Iran was established sometime in the mid-20th century, and the jewel in the republic of Iranian ski resorts is the resort of Shemshak, some 2,550 meters above sea level. The weather is almost always crisp and clean, which is far from the smoggy hustle and bustle of Tehran.

One of the most enjoyable treats in the (alcohol-free) resort is the familiarity of the après ski food on offer: You can buy all the usual Western takeaway foods for a fraction of the price in Europe, and if you’re feeling somewhat braver, I would recommend that you really should try the fine stews on offer, from piping hot Chicken Fesenjan on the balcony of your chalet to the juiciest kebab in one of the many restaurants scattered around the resort.

Many of the runs around Shemshak are of the black variety, but for the meeker at heart, like myself, there are a few easier slopes with instructors fluent in many languages, including English. In the evening the slope is kitted out with new halogen lights to assist you if you happen to enjoy the evening skiing sessions, and the lights stay on till around 10 pm.

Kitted out with gondolas and chairlifts fitted by the French in the 1970s, Shemshak has a hint of the Val D’Isère or even one of the places European royals would visit every winter. One of the best advantages of winter sport in Iran is the ease of getting there from the Near East and the Persian Gulf region. And with the currency at an all-time low, you could be guilty of enjoying yourself all too much.

(Photo credit: Ski models 2010 by Wikimedia Commons user Kunstpiste)

Filed under: Adventures Abroad, Guest Author on March 4th, 2013 | No Comments »

Five Questions for Heiko Saeger from KOMUNIKI

In this brief interview, Heiko Saeger, former expat and CEO of the recently launched NPO KOMUNIKI, tells us more about his project, the importance of intercultural competence, and the (pro bono) e-training modules that his organization provides.

1) What is the KOMUNIKI Project all about?

The KOMUNIKI PROJECT is an international team of experts who commit their academic knowledge and business experience to promoting intercultural competence through education worldwide. Numerous studies show that intercultural education improves intercultural interactions in every area of life, from everyday communication to business negotiations.

Several weeks ago we started our education initiative “Smart Education for Global Cooperation”. Our aim is to support as many people as possible all over the world to better cope with the challenges of globalisation and interculturalisation of societies and companies.

Global change requires interculturally competent individuals who can coexist and cooperate successfully. Despite international exchange and experience, lots of people have no genuine competence in working with individuals who are different. Many people and businesses are aware of this, but only few of them really know the solution.

So we have created a set of tools to enhance successful communication through intercultural competence. Our five-module training series is supposed to reach out to people around the globe: KOMUNIPASS – The Intercultural Certificate.

The non-profit KOMUNIKI PROJECT makes it possible for everyone to develop their personality and competencies to face the rapidly growing challenges of intercultural environments. We at KOMUNIKI want to contribute to creating a better world to leave to our children.

2) What inspired you to start this project?

During my international career of over 25 years, I have frequently witnessed how intercultural misunderstandings or unconscious misinterpretations can lead to serious issues.

Many people unfortunately lack self-awareness, nor are they capable of dealing with others who are very different from themselves. Both in private and in business life the conscious self is a must for intercultural competence. Those who want to be internationally successful must develop both.

This is how the whole idea of the KOMUNIKI PROJECT was born. Intercultural competence is the key to success. It can help everyone to orient themselves in their ever-changing environment, as well as further develop their personality without having to give up their identity. It is through intercultural competence that people can explore opportunities arising from change and use them for public benefit.

3) What kind of intercultural training do your e-books offer?

Passive knowledge does not develop competence. Competence can only be developed through an active process.

This is the key idea of the five KOMUNIPASS learning modules. We’ll be leading students in a systematic way through Understanding Cultures, The Map of Cultures, Who We Are and What We See, Intercultural Communication, and Living With Foreign Cultures.

The KOMUNIPASS Competence e-trainings replace approximately 60 hours of classroom education and prepare learners for assignments and studies abroad as well as for intercultural cooperation.

Everyone learns at a different pace. For most students, classroom teaching is either too fast or too slow. The time of day is also crucial. Our eBook-based trainings adapt to any learning speed and biorhythm. Whether at the airport, in a bus, or on the sofa, you can read, learn, practise and revise anywhere and at anytime.

4) How can Komuniki members gain access to these resources?

Currently, the KOMUNIPASS eBook-based trainings for smart phones, tablets, PC, etc. are available in English and German on Amazon worldwide.

KOMUNIKI PROJECT members who do not have the means to purchase the eBooks can subscribe to our newsletters. Then we’ll let them know about specific opportunities when downloads are free of charge.

Everyone can become a KOMUNIKI member for free and without any further obligations. Those who wish to join KOMUNIKI only need to register their names and email addresses with www.komuniki.org.

We have also prepared a brief set of instructions on how to download KOMUNIPASS. You can find it here: http://www.komuniki.org/en/smart-education.html

5) What are your plans for the future?

The KOMUNIKI PROJECT was recently launched as a non-profit in Central Europe. We are planning our international expansion with individual chapters in other countries.

For this, we first need to generate revenue. Our aim is to finance KOMUNIKI through the sale of our eBooks, trainings, consultancy services, and, last but not least, through donations. A core team of experts, interculturally experienced professionals and business people are working on the upcoming education programs and seminars.

(Photo credit: Heiko Saeger, KOMUNIKI)

Filed under: Culture Shock, Expat Interviews, Intercultural Differences, InterNations Recommends on February 21st, 2013 | No Comments »

Review: Activities and Strategies for Everyday Language Learners

InterNations member Aaron Myers kindly provided us with a free PDF copy of his e-book Activities and Strategies for Everyday Language Learners. If you want to acquire this resource for yourself, we’ll tell you what you’ll get out of it.

A Blog Turned Book

The book is based on Aaron’s experience as an ESL teacher, language coach, and language learning blogger, as well as on his own journey in teaching himself Turkey when he moved to Istanbul five years ago. It includes a “best of” compilation of tips for language learners from his favorite blog entries, and the book’s origin in blogging does show – both in positive and negative ways.

Aaron’s book makes for a quick and easy read. As the individual chapters originate in blog posts, as mentioned above, they are clearly structured, as well as chatty and entertaining in style.

The PDF version might have benefitted from a more thorough and careful editing process, though. There were a few spelling and grammar mistakes that will not prevent anyone from understanding the advice; but in a book on language studies, of all things, I found them slightly distracting.

Also, since you usually read a book in a pretty short time rather than over weeks or months, like individual blog entries, the tips sometimes get a bit repetitive. Here it would have made sense to cut some chapters in favor of expanding on other advice and adding an overall structure from start to finish.

What’s an Everyday Language Learner Anyway?

The author also writes with a clear view of his target audience in mind: An everyday language learner is “someone who may not have a special love or excitement to learn another language, but who wants or needs to learn it nonetheless.”

This is a great help insofar as the tips address those who may be too busy to devote lots of time to their studies or who may not have that much confidence in their abilities. However, some tips are more suited to outgoing, sociable learners rather than to introverted grammar nerds with a more analytic approach.

Tips and Tricks for All Tongues

Among the dozens of different strategies he describes, there should be something for everyone. Beginners will profit from basic activities that every language learner has encountered sooner or later: learning new vocabulary with flashcards and the “spaced repetition” method; labeling everyday objects in your home with post-it notes; rereading your favorite children’s books in the target language, etc.

I think the book’s greatest strength lies in the various suggestions for enhancing conversations with a native speaker who has agreed to help you learn. It’s not easy at first to use such rich input in a methodical way and still have fun, but you can tell that this is probably Aaron’s favorite way of acquiring a new language.

You can practice by retelling a news story or the plot of a recent movie together; by learning about objects, colors, descriptive adjectives and prepositions from an IKEA catalogue; by playing the “sentence expansion” game; by simulating everyday activities like a taxi ride – or a job interview, and so on…

Three Truths about Language Learning

In short, the book may not be a 100% perfect resource for self-directed study, but it can be an inspiring one as well. Speaking for myself, I grew up in a mono-lingual environment (German) and am only fluent in one other language (English, obviously). I’ve tried to learn several other languages, too, to varying degrees of success.

Activities and Strategies for Everyday Language Learners has actually reminded me of three very important things. They might sound like truisms, but it’s far too easy to forget about them:

1) Don’t be afraid of making mistakes. Perfectionism is more of a hindrance rather than a help. Personally, I tend to get frustrated when I don’t make progress fast enough and then give up, instead of just plodding on with very imperfect language skills.

2) Perseverance is key when you hit a plateau. It’s easy to get comfortable at a certain level of proficiency, and leave it at that. (I guess that’s what happened to my high-school French.) But you need to push yourself further, slowly, but steadily. “Binge-learning” and crash courses are of limited value in the long run.

3) Find your destiny. Choose a language that has a purpose for you. If you don’t need to urgently learn it, then you have to love it, regardless of reason. A friend of mine now has an MA degree in Japanese studies – simply because she used to be a big fan of manga and anime in her teens. That love has long since died, but she is now familiar with the Japanese language and culture in general, lived in Tokyo for over a year, and has made several good friends in Japan. Language is about passion, and experience, and Aaron is obviously aware of that.

Interested in getting a copy of the e-book yourself? You can learn more about it on Aaron’s blog.

Have you ever learned a new language on your own? If so, what are your personal “best of” tips?

(Photo credits: 1) Aaron Myers 2) Pieter Bruegel the Elder, The Tower of Babel, public domain 3) Picture of the artwork A translation from one language to another by Lawrence Weiner, image by Wikimedia Commons user brbbl)

Filed under: InterNations Recommends, Languages on February 19th, 2013 | No Comments »

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