So the following is somewhat personal but I wanted to be open and share. Not intended for those avoiding TMI.
Being in another country for a short period of time can be fun and exciting. Everything is beautiful, tastes amazing, and feels adventurous. I'd say this honeymoon period lasts about 7-14 days.
Once you prolong your stay, other feelings begin to surface. These feelings can be augmented when you don't speak or understand the dominant language. Street signs look bizarre, reading menus is an impossible task, conversations happen right in front of you that make absolutely no sense. Add an element of unfamiliarity when everyone you interact with is someone you don't know or met briefly before the trip.
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Solo Experience Abroad #1
Summer camp somewhere in the Cataluna region of Spain. I was about 10 years old. I speak Spanish but everyone except for my cousin, who i just met, speaks Catalan, which unfortunately isn't similar enough to Spanish. My cousin understandably abandons me to make new friends at camp. Camp counselors take me rock climbing, on hikes through rivers (I didn't know and wore inappropriate footwear), on scavenger hunts at midnight, and more of the like. They forced me to eat fish until I cried and they finally understood that I didn't like it. Dear God - they also made me participate in a talent show. It was only 10 days long. I didn't understand a damn thing but I survived. I hear my sister had it worse at a camp that lasted longer. I have a group photo in a memory box somewhere where I'm wearing a fake smile.
Numero Dos
Funny being in Spain again. This time I lived in an apartment in Madrid with my aunt for a couple of months post graduation from TCNJ. My goal was to perfect my Spanish so I could confidently claim bilingualism on a resume. I ended up working long and tiring days that lacked sunshine and adventure. I had a couple breakthroughs: I could fluently handle a telephone call at the office, I started to have dreams in Spanish, and I finally understood that the barista at the local coffee shop was asking me if I wanted my milk warm or hot (damn Spaniard accent). Additional pros: my aunt was my boss so I took two mini-vacations to northern greener cities and southern cultural gems, the coffee was cheap and amazingly delicious, and tomato on toast never tasted so good. Cons: I earned measly 850 euros a month (450 went towards rent), pesciatrian food items were limited or overly fried and cigarette smokers were endless. My social life stank, which was my own fault but I blame it on my lack of interest in deleting my status as a tourist. I fought the beginning stages of assimilation, which can be depressing, and booked a flight home a month earlier than I originally planned.
I've been on other trips but they were always under two weeks or with family.
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So I guess its when the tourist hat comes off that I start to lack enjoyment in my travel experience. I was at a spa earlier today when I began to feel sad and then guilty for feeling sad. I've seen so many beautiful places, have wonderful hosts, and met so many generous and friendly people. In fact, they make me feel like a celebrity - everyone I meet, and even some random strangers, request photos with me and make me feel like I'm Beyonce. I even bought a pair of ridiculous sunglasses to embellish my new fame. Even so, I hate to admit I'm feeling down.
A year ago, I had my first taste of anxiety. I used to be so thankful that I rarely, if ever, felt anything of the sort. It hit me pretty bad and I learned to cope. From time to time, I'll be sitting in a room, riding in a car, or having a conversation with a group of people when all of a sudden it hits me: I want out and I want it now. It's like a million spiders are crawling up the insides of my arms and there's nothing I can do to fight it.
Yesterday, I was sitting in a shop having tea when I experienced my creepy-crawly feeling. I attribute this partially to the fact that I didn't choose to be there, a host did, and that I'm ready to move on out. Maybe not out of Taiwan, but certainly out of this suburb region of Taipei City. I'm overwhelmed by the Chinese, the crazy driving, feeling tired, and the jam packed schedules that I don't plan. I'm even considering a three day meditation retreat before getting on the plane to China.
Part of me always stays open to the idea of living abroad but I wonder if I could really handle it beyond six months. Especially now that I have my new spider friends. I'd still like to keep that door open for now.
All of this makes me feel for my ESOL students who move to the US and have no out. They have to stay, learn English, make new friends and sometimes even make new families. I admire them and their efforts to stay strong. I'm also happy to know that I do my best to be there for them outside of school needs because I know it can be tough. Assimilation isn't always a very pretty experience but it happens to them none-the-less. A little extra love along the way doesn't hurt nobody!
Being in another country for a short period of time can be fun and exciting. Everything is beautiful, tastes amazing, and feels adventurous. I'd say this honeymoon period lasts about 7-14 days.
Once you prolong your stay, other feelings begin to surface. These feelings can be augmented when you don't speak or understand the dominant language. Street signs look bizarre, reading menus is an impossible task, conversations happen right in front of you that make absolutely no sense. Add an element of unfamiliarity when everyone you interact with is someone you don't know or met briefly before the trip.
-------------------------------
Solo Experience Abroad #1
Summer camp somewhere in the Cataluna region of Spain. I was about 10 years old. I speak Spanish but everyone except for my cousin, who i just met, speaks Catalan, which unfortunately isn't similar enough to Spanish. My cousin understandably abandons me to make new friends at camp. Camp counselors take me rock climbing, on hikes through rivers (I didn't know and wore inappropriate footwear), on scavenger hunts at midnight, and more of the like. They forced me to eat fish until I cried and they finally understood that I didn't like it. Dear God - they also made me participate in a talent show. It was only 10 days long. I didn't understand a damn thing but I survived. I hear my sister had it worse at a camp that lasted longer. I have a group photo in a memory box somewhere where I'm wearing a fake smile.
Numero Dos
Funny being in Spain again. This time I lived in an apartment in Madrid with my aunt for a couple of months post graduation from TCNJ. My goal was to perfect my Spanish so I could confidently claim bilingualism on a resume. I ended up working long and tiring days that lacked sunshine and adventure. I had a couple breakthroughs: I could fluently handle a telephone call at the office, I started to have dreams in Spanish, and I finally understood that the barista at the local coffee shop was asking me if I wanted my milk warm or hot (damn Spaniard accent). Additional pros: my aunt was my boss so I took two mini-vacations to northern greener cities and southern cultural gems, the coffee was cheap and amazingly delicious, and tomato on toast never tasted so good. Cons: I earned measly 850 euros a month (450 went towards rent), pesciatrian food items were limited or overly fried and cigarette smokers were endless. My social life stank, which was my own fault but I blame it on my lack of interest in deleting my status as a tourist. I fought the beginning stages of assimilation, which can be depressing, and booked a flight home a month earlier than I originally planned.
I've been on other trips but they were always under two weeks or with family.
-------------------------------
So I guess its when the tourist hat comes off that I start to lack enjoyment in my travel experience. I was at a spa earlier today when I began to feel sad and then guilty for feeling sad. I've seen so many beautiful places, have wonderful hosts, and met so many generous and friendly people. In fact, they make me feel like a celebrity - everyone I meet, and even some random strangers, request photos with me and make me feel like I'm Beyonce. I even bought a pair of ridiculous sunglasses to embellish my new fame. Even so, I hate to admit I'm feeling down.
A year ago, I had my first taste of anxiety. I used to be so thankful that I rarely, if ever, felt anything of the sort. It hit me pretty bad and I learned to cope. From time to time, I'll be sitting in a room, riding in a car, or having a conversation with a group of people when all of a sudden it hits me: I want out and I want it now. It's like a million spiders are crawling up the insides of my arms and there's nothing I can do to fight it.
Yesterday, I was sitting in a shop having tea when I experienced my creepy-crawly feeling. I attribute this partially to the fact that I didn't choose to be there, a host did, and that I'm ready to move on out. Maybe not out of Taiwan, but certainly out of this suburb region of Taipei City. I'm overwhelmed by the Chinese, the crazy driving, feeling tired, and the jam packed schedules that I don't plan. I'm even considering a three day meditation retreat before getting on the plane to China.
Part of me always stays open to the idea of living abroad but I wonder if I could really handle it beyond six months. Especially now that I have my new spider friends. I'd still like to keep that door open for now.
All of this makes me feel for my ESOL students who move to the US and have no out. They have to stay, learn English, make new friends and sometimes even make new families. I admire them and their efforts to stay strong. I'm also happy to know that I do my best to be there for them outside of school needs because I know it can be tough. Assimilation isn't always a very pretty experience but it happens to them none-the-less. A little extra love along the way doesn't hurt nobody!
Hijita mia: Recuerda que solo te quedan pocos dias, Todo esto me recuerda que a los pocos meses que llegue ,ya casada a este pais, un dia bajando las escaleras de la casa me dio un ataque de panico, una sensacion extrana, de miedo ante lo desconocido, me pregunte que hacia yo en un pais , donde no conocia mas que a mi esposo, donde no hablaban mi lengua y lo peor lejos de mis padres y hermanos, yo era muy unida a ellos , y ahora todo estaba tan lejano , pero poco a cpoco me acomode a mi nueva vida y mis grandes amores que son ustedes llenaron cualquier vacio.
ReplyDeleteMi amor , todas nuestras experiencias nos ayudan en la vida, de un modo o otro .
Estoy segura que de todos esto solo sacaras cosas posistivas.
Te quiero muchisimo y estoy muy orgullosa de ti .
mama
You two are some of the strongest women I know. I admire you both. Valerie- the meditation workshop sounds great. Have you ever considered doing one in the states? You might feel MOST comfortable if teachings are conducted in your own language. Although, the opportunity to go on such a retreat in the continent of the birthplace of these spiritual practices might be once in a lifetime. Do what's best for YOU! Love- AJ
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteLanguage incomprehension is certainly a factor in your anxieties. The Chinese culture is very rich, but not easy to apprehend without knowldege of the language. In fact, that is a tautology: language is culture. Food and cooking maybe occupy the second rung.
ReplyDeleteRegarding your yesteryear experiences in Spain, by all means write them down. Maybe your frustrations as a camper or student will help you (as a teacher) comprehend the perplexities of your students.
Meanwhile, on the whole, I'd gladly trade shoes with you for the sake of this summer experience. Make the most of it.