Sticking with something for a year always feels like an accomplishment. This month, I am celebrating the first birthday of this blog! It’s funny to look back to when I started it and see all the ways life has changed.
To be honest, I don’t really remember what I was originally going for in this blog. I think I wanted to create a newsletter for family and friends to keep up with us while we are overseas. I thought I might post every couple weeks to keep people updated. One year, ten thousand views, eighty WordPress followers, 140 Facebook followers, and 130 posts later, I guess I’m going in a slightly different direction. I’m still looking for my niche, but I think I’m almost there. This blog is for my friends and family, but it’s also for the traveler, the expat, the international student, and you.
I don’t have the sky-high stats that some blogs have, but I do hope that it makes a difference. I hope that those who read this blog think of it as something positive in their day. I hope that it’s interesting, inspirational, and encouraging. I hope you see the touch of Jesus in the things I write and the things I do.
Thanks for being a reader! It’s great to see that people take the time to click on my posts and read what I have to say. Thanks for the comments, the likes, and the shares. It’s the little gestures that keep me going.
This year, I’ve had a handful of posts that have been read, liked, and shared over and over again. Here are the links to my post popular posts:
I wonder where I’ll be in another year, and where this site will be? I’ll be on another continent, but I plan to still be typing away about all the things that life brings. What would you like to see from 3rd Culture Wife in the coming year? Let me know in the comments!
Some days, you just need to forget life and find something weird to do.
Like this diving platform floating in the ocean. You need something like that.
After block week, which is the week leading up to Ben’s big quarter-term med school tests, we sure needed a red floating dock to jump off. Ben and Matt wanted to surf after their tests, but I had hurt my shoulder. So Stacey and I decided to wander around Galion Bay Beach, and this was what we found.
It might seem silly, but this thing was the best medicine for a couple of tired, stressed-out med school spouses. Sometimes, you need to let loose and act like a kid!
How’s your week going? If you’re feeling stressed, maybe it’s time to tap into your inner child and do something weird.
Where in the Americas can you find France? The Caribbean, of course! The French side of the island Saint Martin is definitely tropical, but there are pieces and pockets that feel just like a part of Paris. This afternoon, my girlfriends and I went for lunch and fashion in the capitol town, Marigot.
There are a lot of places to get a croissant and coffee in Marigot, and all of them are delicious. This is France, after all. I never liked pastries all that much until I moved here, where real pastries are made. The most popular shops are the touristy ones by the port, but within the winding streets of Marigot, you can find even better treasures.
We stopped at The Coffee Shop Club, where we were greeted by brightly-colored walls and kind faces. Seriously, the people who work here are some of the friendliest I’ve met on the island. I’ll go back just because of the people. All I got was a tea, but the other girls ordered smoothies and lunch. It was delicious! I know, because I sampled a little of other people’s food. We were lucky to have Aqiyla with us, because she is the only one of our group who speaks French fluently. The rest of us needed a little help with the French menus.
What’s an afternoon in France without a little fashion? We went shopping at some of the more affordable boutiques in the area, and they reminded us of the familiar mall stores back home.
Jennyfer has a lot of sweet, trendy styles that I hadn’t seen yet because I haven’t been shopping for clothes since I visited the States a few months ago. I have to say that classy must be making a comeback, and I actually liked most of the clothes here. I wanted to buy a dress I loved, but then I thought of our mounting med school debt and the closet full of dresses I have at home.
Pimkie is pretty much the clothing store version of Pinterest with a tribal flair. I loved browsing through and looking at all the sayings on the shirts. One of them said, “The Dream is Dedication: Dedication is Expensive.” I think that shirt should be the official medical school uniform! My favorite tank was based on a quote from the book Peter Pan. When Peter Pan is wounded and left to die on a rock in the ocean, he says bravely, “To die will be an awfully big adventure.” The shirt was a bit more inspirational: “To live will be an awfully big adventure.” I might go back and buy that one.
We stopped for a while at Z Boutique on Rue du Republique, but most of the men’s clothes were in an odd size and I didn’t see anything that I wanted. I also forgot to take a photo, because I was so eager to get to Roland Richarson’s art gallery!
Roland’s wife, Laura, was at the gallery when we arrived. Stacey and I have been to the gallery often, and we introduced our friends to her. She let us wander the grounds, and we showed everyone the paintings of me and Stacey that Roland has done.
All of these ladies with me are fellow Caribbean med school spouses, Canadian and American expats in the Caribbean. Being an expat is bittersweet, because your heart is divided into pieces, and “home” has many definitions. There are a lot of things we miss about home, but I think that when we return, we’ll miss times like today. These days are short and precious.
Kids write the best letters. One of the best parts of tutoring some of the local kids is getting to read the stuff they write! Coach Tom requires the kids to write thank-you notes for everything they receive. You might recall my post about taking the kids to the zoo for the free Endemic Animal Festival. You heard what I thought of the event, but here is what Eric wanted to say about it:
“Dear: Zoo. Thank you for seeing all the animals and playing in the Pirate shap [ship] and sorry for poking the aliegater and for vomating all over the place and for drinks and I had a lot of fun.”
This is one worth pinning and sharing, folks. As Coach Tom says, “You can’t make stuff like this up.”
Our mothers are truly two of the most amazing women we know! In honor of Mother’s Day, I would like to introduce you to the wonderful ladies that Ben and I have the privilege of calling mom.
My mom, Jeanette Franks, was born in Mount Pleasant, Utah. She spent several years as a third culture kid on an Apache Native American Reservation, where her parents were teachers. She later moved to Flagstaff, Arizona for high school, where she met my dad at a youth group dance in middle school. They got married 33 years ago when both were in college. My mom graduated from Northern Arizona University with a teaching degree, and eventually earned her master’s in education from the same university. She taught in low socio-economic school districts for almost a decade. After I was born, she decided to stay home with me and educate me and my sister at home until we both graduated high school. Now, she and my dad live in Glendale, Arizona, where she loves to mentor other women, volunteer, write, hike, and raise a beautiful garden.
My favorite memories with my mom are the times she would take me somewhere– like downtown Glendale to wander through antique shops–and just talk with me for hours. We’ve spent a lot of time together scrapbooking, traveling, hiking, or just sitting over tea and chatting on a weekend morning. My mom is my best friend, my mentor, and my inspiration. She taught me to follow Jesus with both her words and her actions. To put it Dutch Bros Barista terms, she’s “goals.”
Ben’s mom, Ruth Johnson, was born in Burundi, a tiny country in East Africa. She spent most of her childhood as a third culture kid in Democratic Republic of the Congo. She went to high school in Flagstaff, Arizona. After earning a certificate in Bible after high school, she spent some time working in a Christian bookstore in California. She later returned to Congo to work at a orphanage and reconnected with a childhood playmate, who became her husband. They have been married and working as missionaries in Africa for 39 years. Mom raised seven children (Ben was number six) in East Africa. Now, she runs women’s ministries Kigoma, Tanzania and is an amazing grandma to fifteen grandchildren.
Ben’s favorite memories of his mom are seeing her worship Jesus with joy at nightly family devotions. She taught him a lot about trusting God and having compassion on others.
We are so thankful for these women who have been our mothers, teachers, and mentors. You deserve honor not just on Mother’s Day, but every day! We love you.
Let’s just say that learning to exist cross-culturally is not easy. Neither is it bad! It’s a challenge and an adventure. For me, living the Caribbean has taught me to be less uptight and stressed out. One of my longtime friends who’s known me since middle school came to visit last month, and she kept commenting, “You’re so chill!” I guess I am a lot more chill. I like that change.
Riselle, who writes one of my favorite blogs TheTravelingIslandGirl.Com, wrote a great post today: “11 Things I Learned While Living in the Caribbean.” Riselle is from Sint Maarten and spent some time living in the Netherlands. She wrote about her cross-cultural experiences and the differences between SXM and the Netherlands. At risk of being a disgusting copy-cat, I decided to write a post in the style of her article, but from a different perspective!
Want to know about my experience adapting to cultural changes from Phoenix to St. Maarten? Read on!
Phoenix, Arizona, U.S.A.Almost anything goes on the roads. This is probably the weirdest thing to me. In fact, I lived here five months before I dared drive a car! In Phoenix, we used six-to eight-lane freeways to get around. We drove 75 mph and were comfortable with that. On the streets, we had stoplights in every corner and were mad if we had to drive below 30 mph. You couldn’t park on the sidewalk. You can’t stop in a travel lane. You can’t play sardines (well, you can try, but you might get a fine). You can’t walk where there is not a crosswalk and walk signal. If you jaywalk, you risk getting run over. Technically, you can’t even drive barefoot or in flip-flops. And you certainly may not drive if you have been drinking alcohol!
On Sint Maarten, anything goes. I was incredibly freaked out when I saw people driving around while drinking beer. You don’t have to wear a seat belt, you can cram as many people as possible in your car, and you can block traffic going both ways if you feel like having a conversation with the driver of a passing car. Some of this is nice– I’m happy to be able to walk across the road wherever I want without causing in accident– but sometimes it can get annoying! I do love round-a-bouts and catching a bus from anywhere, though.
Time is not that important. Somehow, my American brain just simply cannot wrap around this idea. To me, you either are on time or you aren’t. I’ve been shut out of classrooms for being 30 seconds late, and people get fired for arriving late too many times in the U.S. Being polite means being there five minutes early. My bad habit of being five minutes late to non-mandatory events was a BAD habit. In the Caribbean, stuff starts whenever you’re ready. It’s like Africa: If something starts at ten, show up at noon to help set up. I made the mistake of arriving at a parade fifteen minutes before it started. An hour and half later, the first troupe made their appearance as the local crowds and smart expats began to arrive. Now I’m a pro! I start packing to go when the event supposedly begins.
Greetings are much more formal. I thought people were so rude when I first moved here. Nobody greeted me when I walked into a place of business. People gave me irritated looks when I said “hello.” The friendly island? Hmmm.
Then I learned that I was actually the one being rude. When you walk into a room on Sint Maarten, you are one who greets the people already inside. And you don’t say, “What’s up.” You say “Good afternoon,” depending on the time of day. Now that I know what to do, I always get friendly smiles.
You can talk to strangers. Phoenix is weird. We all pretend that others do not exist. People in their yards are surrounded by an invisible barrier. You don’t talk to your neighbors unless they are on the sidewalk and return eye contact. You don’t say hi to random people, and if you do, they’ll either look at you like you’re a creeper or smile with delighted surprise! On Sint Maarten, you can talk to anybody. Neighbors actually know each other. People sit for hours chatting at the lottery shops, fruit stands, and bars. I love this. I wish it was like this everywhere.
Nude beaches. In the States, you do not go out in public without clothes on. Ever.
Rain. Yup. That’s right. It doesn’t really rain in Phoenix. You can’t drive safely in Phoenix when it’s raining, because everyone freaks out that water is falling from the sky and starts driving like a bunch of half-blind lawn gnomes. It’s a rare and wonderful event! The first rain we had here, I looked outside to see who was throwing gravel.
With the rain also comes humidity. We used to have to run a humidifier in our house in the winter; now we run the AC to dry the air out! With the humidity comes the mold, and I still haven’t come to terms with that.
Dining is casual. People spend forever sitting and talking over meals. You can buy inexpensive and delicious street food almost anywhere. At restaurants, it’s up to you when you want to pay and leave. We once spent an hour waiting for a check before we found out that you have to go ask for it yourself.
Casinos are everywhere. Casinos are illegal in Arizona, except on the Native American Reservations. On Sint Maarten, casinos are everywhere! We live next door to one and we go there all the time… to use the ATM. It’s the one machine we’re sure to get money out of, ha ha.
Dogs are welcome. I get to take my puppy into the grocery store. I love that. Nobody picks up dog poop. I do not love that. People are fine with dogs here! They roam around off leash, they hang out at the beaches, they go everywhere with their owners.
Empty houses and cars and boats are all over the place. This is generally because of hurricanes and other weather issues. It’s often not worth the cost to remodel or fix, so people just abandon or replace. In Phoenix, hardly anything is left unused. Somebody will take it over, the city will sell it, or it will be destroyed. I like the empty places. There’s something pretty about old cars overgrown with pink flowers.
Anywhere you go, there are things you’ll love and hate about the culture. But it’s always an adventure!
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