why being a TCK/expatriate is so weird

I've been reading "The Art of Coming Home" by Craig Storti. What follows are resulting ruminations.

Being a TCK means being a paradox that walks around on two legs and talks (sometimes sensibly, and sometimes not so sensibly). Here are a few illustrations:

I can travel around all of Europe, sleeping on trains, carrying nothing but a backpack, and enjoy it.
I can stand up to irate cleaning ladies in train station bathrooms and sling back as good as they're dishing out to me.
I can converse in three languages and order from menus in six.
I started traveling across the world by myself via airplane when I was 15. (And I've crossed the Atlantic more than fifty times.)
I have more than passing acquaintance with the cultures of four different countries.

BUT:

I don't know how to use an ATM.
I don't know how to open a bank account.
Highway systems mystify me.
I wouldn't have a clue how to operate a gas oven.
I don't know how to buy a car.
I don't know how to buy a house.
I have a lot of trouble boiling eggs.
Until a few days ago, I'd never had a library card or checked out a library book on my own.
I don't know who the mayor of my city of residence is.
And a plethora of other things.

As a TCK, I have a storehouse of experiences and skills that enable me to function on a global scale. But when it comes down to some of the practical details of everyday life, I am often operating solely on guesswork.

I'm not bemoaning this; it is who I am. I don't feel any sort of desperation to "fix" the things on that second list. I am definitely interested in self-improvement, but most of those things, I figure, I'll learn in the course of life. I just thought I'd offer these two lists as an example of the TCK paradox--because unlike Tigger, I am not the only one. ;o)

another very TCK rant, if you can stand it

...and if you can't, stop reading. ;o)

Okay, so a few days ago, I wrote about how I get really irritated when people give me 20 seconds of their attention, then turn me off right as I'm in the middle of answering THEIR question.

This isn't going to be a rant about that again.

But this *is* going to be a rant about something else to which I react with anger.

I'll be brief.


To Whom It May Concern--And You Know Who You Are:

Do not tell me I'm not a "good American" because I get upset when you bash Europe. To my face.

Do not tell me that I sound more German than American in my opinions. If I *am* more German, then it is none of your business.

And do not tell me that I need to decide which country I want to be a citizen of in my heart.
Do not have the audacity, the utter gall to say such a thing to me.

______

I'm done.
______

This isn't a cross-cultural re-entry issue for me. This relates to the ever-difficult, ever-present, life-long struggle of feeling torn between cultures. Even after I complete the current cultural transition phase, this isn't going to go away. I accept that, so please don't anyone worry that I'm having a meltdown. I'm not. I just read something this evening that reminded me of the incident described above, and I realized I'd feel better about it if I aired the dirty laundry in public.

me

In case I've never posted this here before....this is what it's like to be a TCK:

"If you came back, you wanted to leave again. If you went away, you longed to come back. Wherever you were, you could hear the call of the homeland, like the note of a herdsman's horn far away in the hills. You had one home out there and one over here, and yet you were an alien in both places. Your true abiding place was the vision of something very far off, and your soul like the waves, always restless and forever in motion."

--Johan Bojer
"The Immigrants"


The good news: I know what my true abiding place is. It's more than a vision. It is a reality. It is The Reality. And someday, I will go there, and no longer live restless in the Shadowlands.

excerpt from courtney's journal...

...complete with original spellings. ;o)

June, 29, 1986

Iam at Church right now. And I have been thinking about something. Amanda and I were at Grandma Wegers house. We wanted to play the Piano. But most of the Key's would'nt Play. Then we said the Piano would'nt Play. Grandpa then took his 22 Gun out of the Piano so that we could Play it. And that was so funny!

_______________________________

Present day: At the risk of sounding self-aggrandizing ;oD I have to say I find this completely fascinating from a linguistic standpoint. At age 9, it seems I was regularly applying German spelling rules to English words--hence all the capitalized nouns. But the one English noun that's phonetically almost identical to its German counterpart (house -- Haus), I spelled correctly.

Why I capitalized the verb "play," I have no idea. Maybe I was thinking "play" as in something you watch onstage--which would be a noun.

I love being a TCK. :o)

Q & A

Q & A Procedure:

1. Leave me a comment saying anything random, like your favorite lyric to your current favorite song. Or your favorite kind of sandwich. Something random. Whatever you like.

2. I respond by asking you five personal questions (in response to your comment, so check back!) so I can get to know you better.

3. You WILL update your LJ (aka blog) with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and offer to ask someone else in the post.

5. When others comment asking to be asked, you will ask them five questions.


My answers to Patricia's Qs:

1. If you were to have the chance to adopt a sibling, would you pick a brother or a sister?

Oooh, that's a hard one! I've always liked the idea of having a big brother to stick up for me, and there have been a couple of guys in my life who have been like brothers.... Not to mention most of my guy cousins who are definitely like my brothers....and girl cousins who are like sisters......and girl friends who are definitely like sisters..... As you can see, I definitely have trouble pinning myself down to a concise answer here! I guess I'd probably have to choose a sister, just for all the late-night girltalk. ;o)

2. What is your favorite memory of us from college?

Do I have to pick just one?!?!??!!!? ;o) Okay, here goes, in random order:

(a) All the time we spent in Honors together. You made it fun and interesting and lively during the times my attention started to drift. All the craziness we had together just really made that time something special to me!
(b) The note you wrote me at the end of our freshman year, in which you told me how much you appreciated my friendship. At the time, I had no idea that my friendship meant so much to you, and it was good to hear that in spite of all my difficulties that year, you still liked me and accepted me.
(c) Doing artsy stuff together! I know we didn't get to sit down and draw together as much as both of us wanted to, but at least we had a few times of getting to do stuff as "art buddies."
(d) Getting to go home with you at the end of freshman year. As an only child, I was pleasantly amazed at how such a large family could actually work! ;o) You all made me feel more welcome than I thought I had a right to be. Even though I wasn't there very long, it's a time I'll never forget. (Don't tell Bec and Bradley this, but I still think of them as being the age they were when I visited!) ;oD
(e) Can we say 'Medieval Fairs'?! :oD

3. What book heroine do you relate to the most?

You do know how to ask the tough ones, don't you. ;o) Okay, the one I think of off the top of my head is Kit from "The Witch of Blackbird Pond" by Elizabeth George Speare. Kit grows up in Barbados and moves to Puritan New England to live with her conservative aunt and uncle. The book chronicles her adjustment from one culture to another. She even seeks out the other 'misfits' in Puritan society to try to find her niche. Classic TCK behavior! Since that has basically been the story of my life, I can relate to Kit quite well, even though the book is written for a young reading level. (I've read this book every few years since I was 9 or 10.)

4. What Honors quote will stick in your memory forever?

Again, it's impossible to choose just one!

"Don't ask stupid questions!"
"She was all bust absent from history."
"Moses' Little Bake Shop."
"Nietzsche is bad for you anyway. Nietzsche will rot your teeth."
The essence of scarfness.
Dead Peasants Aren't Much Fun.
"Did I date your mother?"

Hmm...I might just have to do an all-Honors blopgost! ;oD

5. What is the funniest thing you've heard or read recently?

(a) Three-year-old Velony telling her parents in all seriousness: "Ich hab' geschwitzt wie Sau!" ("I was sweating like a hog!")
(b) Once again, I amused myself by watching the guy who webcammed himself dancing to "Dragostea Din Tei". In my opinion, this is one of the greatest videos ever made.
(c)Honors quotes. ;o)

sites i frequent

Some Writing-Life Resources:

Thesaurus.com, the thesaurus and dictionary that work best for me.
Wikipedia, where I've learned about bellmetal, fencing, Redwoods, archivolts, and lots more!
Leo, an English-German, German-English online dictionary.
NaNoWriMo, where you can undertake the crazy task of writing a 50,000 word novel during November each year! I've NaNo-ed four times now, and am pleased to call it a yearly habit. ;o)
NaNo 2003: over 50k (novel incomplete)
NaNo 2004: didn't make it past 12k :o(
NaNo 2005: over 50k (novel incomplete)
NaNo 2006: over 50k, and new novel complete!!!

Others:

My Other Blog, where I post Bible studies and other helpful materials.
ChessWorld--play chess online.
Oklahoma Christian University, where I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in English/Writing in December 1999.
Ancestry.com--build your own family tree and research your ancestors.
TCK World, which explains a lot about who I am and why! ;o)

echoes from the randomness

A Brief History of the Life and Times of the Winsome Wench in Her Weirdness...

I wouldn't say that Ed and I were desperate up until Monday morning. Yes, we were very, very busy, and yes, we had no downtime, and yes, we were rather concerned that we wouldn't have time to get it all done...... But all things considered, I don't think we were desperate. I'd say we weren't even frantic. We were just very, very busy. And tired. Did I mention tired?

But when you compare International Moving Adventure 2007 with International Moving Adventure 2001, the 2007 version is going much more smoothly. In 2001, when we moved to Chemnitz, we had no clue what we were doing. The night before the movers came, we stayed up working in the apartment until 3 a.m. This time, we were in bed at midnight the night before the movers came. Some might think that a 3 hour difference does not great progress show (thank you, Yoda)... But in 2001, we also had an entire room marked "Do Not Enter" while the movers were working, a large room full of stuff that we had to get rid of after they left. This time, in 2007, we had only about half of a medium-sized room of leftovers. Plus, this time, there's our general feeling of preparedness resulting from having started this process 8 months before the move instead of 6 weeks before. ;o)

Anyway....Monday morning, the movers arrived, brought their packing materials upstairs, built some cardboard boxes, and started packing. And suddenly, Ed and I had nothing to do. We weren't allowed to help them pack, because the insurance only covers our belongings if the movers are the ones who packed the boxes. There was nothing more to organize, nothing more to sort, nothing more to throw out. All we could do was sit and watch as these five strangers entered our space, went through our things, put all our things in boxes, and took them away.

I was tired. I was relieved that I didn't have to pack it all myself. I was excited. I was sad. I was amused by the banter of the men as they worked. I was nervous when one dude started packing up my oil paintings. I hovered and made him nervous, so I forced myself to go sit in the living room and let the poor man do his job. I was glad that we were finally getting this step of the process out of the way. I was numb from the back-and-forth motion of this emotional roller coaster.

Tuesday afternoon, when they started taking the last of the boxes downstairs and packing them into the 20-foot container, I thought I was going to cry. We finished up paperwork, tipped the guys, and watched as they drove away. They honked and waved, and we laughed. Then we went back upstairs. I looked around the emptiness of our apartment, and all I wanted to do was get out of there. It didn't feel like home anymore. Later that evening, when we were coming home from Tuesday night Bible study, I started to cry because we couldn't go home and I felt homesick, and all I wanted to do was go home.

Have I mentioned the emotional roller coaster?

The last few days have been more of the same, but much less intense. In Germany, renters are required to paint the apartment before they move out, so we've been working on getting that started. Today was the first real work day, and thanks to multiple helping hands, the stairwell is clean, and three rooms are completely finished. Three down, three to go. The best part is that our landlady intends to have all the carpets but one ripped out, so we only have to worry about protecting the one. We can smear paint all over the rest, which speeds up our work considerably. Yay for practicality.

Since Monday, we've been living over at Karen's (aka KarenCamp). It feels funny to "come home" over here now instead of to our own apartment. Pippin seems to be adjusting well, although she's having difficulty with the Stay Off the Table Rule. She's really enjoying the ground-floor windows. For her sake, it would be nice if we could find a ground-floor place in Oklahoma City. But that's another story for a future time.

I think I've rambled on enough for now. In short, we're busy, we're tired, we're of very mixed emotions, we're enjoying the "last times" we're spending with various people. All of this, of course, is reinforcing in me the knowledge and the sense that I am truly at home nowhere on this earth. My citizenship, my allegiance, my home is heaven. Perhaps God has led me to this rootless, often-moving, TCK life because he knows that I need it; perhaps I need it so that I will know where my true refuge and sanctuary and comfort is.

Check out 2. Corinthians 4:18 and Philippians 3:20. God says it better than I can.