Before I left the United States, there were a lot of things I took for granted. I guess everyone thinks their own life is pretty typical until they get a taste of something else.
1. Traffic lights. We have a single traffic light in the entire country of Sint Maarten. It spends half its life blinking yellow. Here, we have few intersections and a lot of round-a-bouts. It’s actually a much better system, and a lot fewer accidents occur because of it.
2. Refrigerated milk. You can get refrigerated milk here, but not every grocery store carries it. I always buy ultra heat-treated (UHT) milk. It’s cheaper, safer, and easier, especially since we get so many power outages. Also, I can stick several cases on the fridge and use them as I need them.
3. Electricity. Speaking of power outages, we get them a lot. Our single power plant can only handle so much at once. So we go without water and/or power on a regular basis.
4. Air conditioning. I grew up in Phoenix, Arizona where air conditioning is literally vital for life. Here, we like to use it now and then but we could certainly live without it. Our apartment complex took almost two months to fix our unit last summer when it died. We were OK; we have a nice trade winds breeze that we welcomed through open doors and windows.
5. Multiple traffic lanes. Unlike Phoenix’s six-lane highways, Sint Maarten has a basic two-lane road going all the way around the island. Passing anyone is an adventure.
6. Self-defense weapons. I used to carry mace everywhere I went. That’s just what you do in Phoenix if you’re walking around alone. I can’t carry anything here– not mace, not a pocket knife, not even a chair. Well, realistically I can carry a chair, but not legally. If you could whack someone in the head with it, you can’t legally carry it down the street. People will make weapons with anything, though– the supermarket next door once got held up by a guy with a stick.
7. Private beaches. There are no private beaches here! Every strip of sand on this island is public property. I took my dog to one of the less beautiful beaches this afternoon. There were a dozen locals there and me. And it’s a Saturday. If that beach was in the States, it would have been PACKED because so many good beaches are privately owned and the rest are perpetually filled. Here, you can enjoy the most incredible strips of paradise no matter your paycheck. I love that about Sint Maarten.
8. Sales tax. Yes, there is no sales tax here! Hooray for no math! Oh, and for not paying extra for stuff.
No matter where you go, there will always be something better and worse about it than the last place you lived. I guess the moral to the story is that wherever you are, enjoy the good things about that place instead of focusing on the bad things. There’s so much to appreciate in life!
Yes, we have Zika. Our little island has joined the rest of the West Indies and is now home to this nasty virus. How common is it? Not too common. How bad is it? Depends.
The most obvious thing that effects our community is that some people have contracted Zika. There have even been a few students at American University of the Caribbean who have had it. You hear a lot of horror stories about how awful it is, but honestly, it varies from person to person. Some people have hardly felt a thing and didn’t know they had it until they were tested. Others have had severe flu-like symptoms that put them behind in their studies for a week or so. Ben and I may have had it and not known it.
Zika is known to cause birth defects in unborn children. The World Health Organization has recommended that women carefully consider delaying pregnancy. This really stinks for the families in our community who were trying to have children. It’s been hard on a lot of people.
Zika is scaring some of our visitors away. Many of us had friends who planned to visit, and some of them cancelled their plans because of pregnancy or fear.
I’m not particularly worried about it. I did take a few pregnancy tests to make sure I’m not pregnant, and they were negative. So we’re just going about our business as usual and being sure to wear bug spray and keep the door closed after dark.
So just in case you were curious or worried, we’re OK. Like any other epidemic, Zika is a little scary, and the media makes it sound much scarier than it is! But life goes on here and we battle the mosquitoes the same way we always have to for more familiar viruses like dengue.
Cross-cultural transition can teach the expat many lessons. Last post, we heard from Emily Montgomery about what she has learned from the process. Today, Emily offers five more words of wisdom.
5. Get in your zone.
I define a comfort zone as a situation where I know what is expected and I am capable of succeeding. In my own culture, I subconsciously orchestrated my interactions so I spent most of my time in my comfort zone.
That handy little ability is not possible when you enter an unknown cultural context.
Right after I moved, I had an identity crisis that lasted several months. Because I was not operating from within my comfort zone, I wasn’t acting like myself.
I was often surprised by my responses. Experiences that used to excite me no longer did. The limits of what I could handle in certain situations were different than they had been in my own culture. It was so disorienting.
And then I started to develop a comfort zone in my new context.
As things became more familiar and I learned the cultural norms around me, some of my old traits began to reemerge. My confidence started to reappear slowly.
There will always be some parts of your comfort zone that cannot translate to the new culture. So, parts of your personality will only come out when you visit home. But, there are also new layers to yourself that you never saw before, that only exist in the new context.
Be brave and engage the new culture. It will be uncomfortable at first, but remember that you are expanding the zone where you can truly be yourself. It’s worth it!
6. Obey God today.
One time during the first wave of transition, I was crying and talking to God. I said between sobs, “My kids won’t even know their cousins!” Then it was like God told me to really think about what I was saying.
I was single with no prospects of marriage in view. Children were a far-off dream at that point. I was carrying the weight of a sacrifice God hadn’t even asked me to make.
In Luke 9:23, Jesus told his followers to pick up their crosses daily. I learned to apply that to my transition process.
Emotionally, I acknowledged and grieved what I was currently missing in the lives of my community at home because I was far away. But, I didn’t allow myself to grieve an event that hadn’t happened yet.
Only God can see for certain how your future will play out. You don’t know that you’ll miss your brother’s wedding, never see your grandpa again, or spend every holiday season away from home.
The only sacrifice Jesus is asking you to make is the one you are facing today. And, he promised that he will give you the right amount of grace to carry that sorrow (2 Corinthians 12:9).
7. Take on a posture of prayer.
About a year before I moved overseas, I heard about the idea of creating a personal prayer posture. The friend who told me about it said it helped her to focus on being present with Jesus.
The habit of getting into a certain physical position and opening up time with God with a certain phrase can be very stabilizing in times of insecurity and transition.
I was so grateful for this practice as I weathered the adjustment to a new culture.
There were times when God seemed very quiet and I felt very alone. It was comforting to pray the words of my prayer posture and then just sit in the sanctity and intimacy that had already been created by those same words hundreds of times before.
It was like I had stirred up a current towards God that I could just float in on those days when I didn’t have the energy to swim.
There is no magical secret about this practice. Your prayers are not more effective if you take on a certain posture first. The whole goal is to honestly come into God’s presence and pay attention to him. If a prayer posture is no longer accomplishing that, ditch it!
8. It’s just life.
Leaving your home culture and building a life in a foreign country is an unusual thing. Even with our increasingly accessible world, expatriates are just a tiny percent of the global population. By relocating to a new culture, you are doing something dramatically out of the ordinary.
I was caught up in that drama at first, which made my already-heightened emotions even crazier. Every decision felt weighty. Every task felt urgent. Every prayer was desperate, and every success was a miracle.
When my body began to break down from the stress, I realized I wouldn’t be able to sustain such high intensity for much longer.
As I started to really look at my daily life, I realized it was just that—life.
I had to buy groceries and cook food. I had to pay bills and save for big purchases. I made friends, told stories, took trips, did laundry, and procrastinated the chores I wasn’t fond of.
Life was an adventure, and a challenge, and a thrill. It was also “like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone” (James 4:14 New Living Translation).
Continually remind yourself that this craziness is just life. See from God’s eternal perspective. Don’t make a bigger deal of these temporary things than they deserve.
9. Laugh at yourself.
I remember visiting a local friend’s home for the first time and meeting her elderly mother. The older woman gestured emphatically to her head when I greeted her, pulling my head down. I didn’t understand the language well enough to know what she was saying, so I very bewilderedly leaned down to tap my forehead against hers.
I learned later that it’s customary to greet elderly people with a kiss on the head. My friend’s mother got her head bopped instead because I was clueless!
There are so many funny things that happen when intelligent, capable adults suddenly find themselves bumbling around in a new culture. Don’t take yourself too seriously. If you can laugh about your mistakes, your local friends probably will, too.
I also learned the value of game nights, dance parties, karaoke, and anything else lighthearted and silly.
By moving to a new culture, you’ve introduced an immense amount of stress into your life. Temper that with occasional times to let your hair down and simply laugh as hard as you can. Trust me, those activities will do wonders for your spirit.
10. Wait it out.
In a recently released movie, a girl describes the transition to a new culture perfectly.
“You’ll feel so homesick that you’ll want to die, and there’s nothing you can do about it apart from endure it. But you will, and it won’t kill you. And one day the sun will come out – you might not even notice straight away, it’ll be that faint… And you’ll realize that this is where your life is.” (Brooklyn 2015)
Struggling to adjust to a new culture and dealing with homesickness are not signs of personal weakness or failure. They are not feelings to be ashamed of or minimized.
I often looked at other friends who had moved overseas and berated myself for struggling so much more than they seemed to. I put a huge amount of added pressure on myself to “snap out of it” and fix the problem of my culture shock as quickly as possible.
None of my desperate responses helped the situation, which only led to more disappointment and frustration. It was a vicious cycle.
Finally after many months of this downward spiral, I threw my hands up and just gave in to the fact that I was struggling. I admitted it to my friends at home and in the new culture.
It felt like settling in for a long, cold, winter hibernation. I said some difficult “no’s” and cut back on everything I could. And then, I waited for God to do his work in that season.
And he did.
Conclusion
I talk about the first “season” or “wave” of cultural transition because I don’t think it ends after the initial adjustment period is over. We will always be foreigners now—a little different, a little confusing—even when we are in our home culture again.
That identity can be challenging. But, it is also an honor.
We can take our place among the ranks of the people of faith mentioned in Hebrews 11. “They agreed that they were foreigners and nomads here on earth” (verse 13b New Living Translation). The chapter goes on to say that they were looking forward to their true homeland in heaven.
That is the hope for us, as well. There is only one place where we will ever really be at home, and Jesus is preparing it for us right now. Hope in that as you learn lessons of your own on this crazy adventure of cultural transition!
Moving overseas is a difficult experience. But it doesn’t have to be horrible. Last year, my friend Emily Montgomery moved from the United States to the Arab world. Along the way, she has learned a lot about herself, God, and the world. Here is her advice to you.
Brace yourself.
Put into words what you imagine about the new culture. Be specific! Write the story of your life in this new place. Where do you see yourself living? What will your work be like? Who will be your friends? What will you struggle with most?
Now go one step below the surface to identify your expectations. For example, as I imagined life overseas before I moved, I foresaw lots of busyness and little time to rest.
Expectation: My life will be as full and varied as it was at home.
Reality: The pace of life in the new culture, the size of my social group, and my role at work was entirely different than in my home culture. This was a missed expectation!
If you’re a starry-eyed optimist like me, take a careful look at what is going on in your imagination. It’s not wrong to hope for amazing things—be excited about the possibilities! But, don’t set yourself up for disappointment by going into a cultural transition blind to what you’re really expecting.
You’re not dying.
Before I moved, I asked for advice from anyone who had lived overseas before. Several times I was told, “It’s like you die and are reborn into the new culture. Grieve that death and let go of who you used to be.”
I’m sure they meant well, but that advice was detrimental for my transition.
Instead of being excited and grateful about the biggest adventure of my life, I was mourning. I cried every day in the weeks before I moved. When I finally got to my new home overseas, I was not happy to be there. I was emotionally wrung out!
Looking back, I’d tell my pre-expat self to expect a lot of change. Relationships look different long-distance, I took on new roles, even my personality shifted.
But, my old self isn’t dead. In my overseas home, I’ve discovered new sides of who I’ve always been that are only visible in this context. What a gift!
Who you are does not change because of where you live. You’re not dying—you’re growing.
Tell the true story.
At the darkest point of my transition, everyone told me how normal it is to struggle. At the time, that didn’t make me feel much better.
What did help was when a friend, listening to my meltdown, asked, “What’s actually happening here?”
That stopped me in my tracks.
It forced me to look at the reality of the situation instead of just repeating the dramatic story I had been telling myself. When I looked closely, I could identify core issues and spot areas of spiritual warfare. I was empowered to fight back.
When you’re in the thick of transition, emotions are heightened. The highs are exuberating and the lows are debilitating. Find friends who will listen well, but then ask you to tell the true story.
Hint: If you hear yourself using generalizations, you might be telling a version of reality that’s clouded with a lot of amped-up emotions. Take a deep breath and rephrase it.
“Men here never treat me with respect” becomes “In this culture, men don’t show women respect in ways that are familiar to me”. This reveals a major area of cultural tension that you can explore. When do you feel respected? Ask a local girlfriend the same question. You’ll probably find that in reality, just your perspective needs to change.
Don’t listen to doubts.
I questioned my decision to move overseas at least once a day during my first season of culture shock. I was sure I had misheard God’s instructions, acted impulsively, or simply needed to “get it out of my system” and I should go home now.
I heard a quote somewhere that became my mantra for the battles against doubts. “Never question in the dark what was shown to you in the light.”
God invited me into a different culture after a specific time of seeking direction. The decision was confirmed and supported by my spiritual leaders. I had completed trainings and preparation courses. All of that happened in the “light” before the transition.
It wasn’t until I fully resigned myself to being overseas for the full length of my assignment that I found peace. I stopped imagining what would happen if I gave up and moved home. My heart finally settled into making the best of what I had.
If you’ve committed to being overseas for a specific length of time, just assume that is still what God is asking you to do, even when it gets hard. Don’t consider doing anything else. If God wants you to break your commitment early, he is capable of getting your attention to tell you.
Get in your zone.
I define a comfort zone as a situation where I know what is expected and I am capable of succeeding. In my own culture, I subconsciously orchestrated my interactions so I spent most of my time in my comfort zone.
That handy little ability is not possible when you enter an unknown cultural context.
Right after I moved, I had an identity crisis that lasted several months. Because I was not operating from within my comfort zone, I wasn’t acting like myself.
I was often surprised by my responses. Experiences that used to excite me no longer did. The limits of what I could handle in certain situations were different than they had been in my own culture. It was so disorienting.
And then I started to develop a comfort zone in my new context.
As things became more familiar and I learned the cultural norms around me, some of my old traits began to reemerge. My confidence started to reappear slowly.
There will always be some parts of your comfort zone that cannot translate to the new culture. So, parts of your personality will only come out when you visit home. But, there are also new layers to yourself that you never saw before, that only exist in the new context.
Be brave and engage the new culture. It will be uncomfortable at first, but remember that you are expanding the zone where you can truly be yourself. It’s worth it!
Today is a special day for us– our second anniversary! On June 7, 2014, we said “I do” at Whitton Avenue Bible Church in Phoenix, Arizona. It was a beautiful day for us, with a lovely ceremony and a fun reception afterwards! We made a promise to each other that we would spend the rest of our lives together, no matter what. It’s only been two years, but so much has happened in that time.
On June 7, 2015, we celebrated our first anniversary in Indiana. We were there for our friends Phil and McKenna’s wedding , which had been in Michigan the day before. We woke up on the seventh at our friend Marcus’ house in the Berne, Indiana, a small Swiss town. We spent the day exploring a science museum, Science Central.
Today, June 7, 2016, we spent the day on our home island, Saint Martin. Since Ben has medical school tests next week, he had to be in class for half the day. But at 3:30, he was mine– he took half the day off to be with me, even though he has a lot to do! We discovered some new hiking trails behind the causeway on the Dutch side. The trail took us and our puppy through the woods, past the Rastafarian Farm, and out into the French capitol, Marigot. We picked low-hanging tamarind seeds to snack on during the walk.
Later, we went to Advantika, a Thai restaurant that was highly recommenced to us. Finally, we went to Carousel for ice cream cake! We eat cake on the seventh of every month to celebrate our marriage. An anniversary called for something special: cookies and cream ice cream cake.
So far, we’ve celebrated both wedding anniversaries in different locations hundreds of miles apart. If things continue as expected, we’ll spend at least the next two in new places. I’ve learned many things from our journeys, but one of the most important is this: “home” doesn’t mean a specific geographical location. Rather, “home” is defined as the place your beloved is, wherever that may be.
Airplanes, expats, and the missionary life! Kaitlyn Stewart, the author of today’s guest post, grew up in Senegal, a nation in West Africa. I met her during our college years in Arizona. This summer, she is embarking on a long-term missionary journey of her own to Mali.
I sat in the back of the airplane, my ears silenced by the foam squish of the airplane headset. My heart sped up with the deep whir of the propeller, thumping slightly as the wheels bounced over the lumpy concrete. As the wind rushed heavy over the wings and lifted the aircraft high into the Arizona air, my heart lifted, thrown into an excited tempo by the soaring plane. Faster than it seemed possible, the Kodiak left the earth and sped up and away over the dry landscape. Glancing out the window, my view shifted and I imagined the green leaves of lush jungles and the beautiful mountains this plane would soon see. And my heart took flight again, enchanted with the future the Kodiak would see among the rainforests of Papua New Guinea.
These airplanes have been an answer to prayer. With more room both for passengers and luggage, they can travel faster and cover longer distances than other small aircraft. They also use less expensive fuel, making them more cost efficient as well. If needed, these planes can carry a stretcher, turning them into makeshift ambulances. Overall, these planes have been an incredible asset, making it easier to transport supplies and people to the farthest unreached places and people of the world.
Airplanes have always played a significant role in my life. I grew up around them, stepping on an airplane for the first time at four years old, and was always near, in, or around one. To me, the airplane became a way to connect with missionaries that I knew in the villages of Senegal, a way to bring supplies, pets, medicine, and technology to those working to spread the gospel of Christ. I loved the chance to experience the joy of flying and being a part of the missionary work.
It doesn’t always take an airplane ride for someone to be able to share the good news of Jesus Christ with those around them. It can take a simple step outside their front door, a short walk to a neighbor, a car ride to a country that needs help. But for those places that are inaccessible, the airplane provides that opportunity that may not have been otherwise possible. With these new planes, mission work can be redefined, and the gospel of Christ brought to those who may have never before had the chance to hear about the saving grace of Jesus Christ.
Consider the roles these airplanes will have in the years to come. Transporting people, bringing supplies to remote locations, ferrying those who are sick or injured to medical facilities, and most importantly, carrying the good news of Jesus Christ to the lost places of the world.
Consider your own role. Just as the airplane is a thread in the tapestry of God’s overarching sovereign plan for saving this world, so are you. He has equipped you to be a vessel that carries important news to the far reaches of earth- that Christ can forgive sins and pull individuals from the chains of brokenness and death into light and redeeming love. Through the power of Christ, you have the ability to bring healing to a broken world. You have the ability to soar on the wings of eagles and impact this world for Jesus Christ.
As the wheels touched down again on the concrete of the small Arizona airstrip, my mind envisioned a crowd of excited villagers and smiling missionaries crowding around the door to get a glimpse of the plane that would change the course of history in the jungles of PNG. And suddenly, it didn’t matter where I was now, I wanted to someday be a part of a team that worked to bring that good news to those people. We are called to take the good news of Christ to the far reaches of the earth, and with one small airplane ride, my desire to proclaim the name of Jesus to the lost nations flew as high as the planes soaring overhead. The magnificent plane stands ready to do its part in helping save this world- will you join us?
