No two cultures are alike, and you will inevitably be perplexed by any new culture you visit. I’ve been on Sint Maarten for a year (that statement in and of itself deserves a post), and I still don’t really get a lot of the things that go on here.
Driving with your brights on. Headlights are cool, and they’re also perfectly sufficient for seeing where you’re going. I don’t understand why everybody uses their brights here– are they trying to blind the people in front of them? It gets hard to drive after dark without developing a migraine.
Not Swimming. I haven’t met a lot of people from here who like to swim in the ocean. Actually, a lot of them never learned to swim. I find it ironic that the most beautiful reef is within a few yards of the shore, and yet people don’t go in to look at it. I grew up in the desert, and everybody knew how to swim. We dig expensive swimming pools so we can swim in the summer, because we don’t have anywhere else to do it!
Lack of Garage Sales. In the States, we love us some garage sales. And in my old neighborhood, we’d wait all year for that one weekend that our neighborhood association would allow us to hold one. Here, nobody cares what you put out in your front yard, but people apparently don’t sell their stuff there. I think maybe the technology caught up to the island before the garage sale trend, because people list all their old stuff on Facebook classifieds groups.
Accidents. I saw an accident once where a motorcyclist was thrown over the hood of my car when it hit another car. Both of them just recovered and went on their way. I guess that’s pretty typical. Nobody wants to deal with accidents here.
Scary Motorcycling. Motorcyclists pretty much always drive on the center line. I’m really curious what happens when two bikers going opposite directions meet. How do they know if someone’s coming the other way?
If anyone has an explanation to these things, tell me in the comments!
If you’re an expat, some things that aren’t too typical start to look normal. Can you relate to any of these?
Duolingo
This screen has become very familiar as you desperately try to re-learn all that Spanish you never actually absorbed in high school. After a while, it turns from a language learning tool to an obsession….
As a bonus, buildings without emergency exits do, in fact, become commonplace. As do the lack of smoke detectors, hot water, and electricity.
2. You drive like a maniac
Right side of the road, wrong side of the road, middle of the road, not even on the road. Everyone else drives like a kangaroo on seven Red Bulls, and so do you, now.
3. Your change purse looks like this.
Seriously, if I take that Kenyan shilling from Ben’s high school laundry money stash to the laundry room one more time, I am going to fling the entire washing machine out the window.
4. Knock-offs
You can’t tell me this isn’t J.C. Penny in disguise.
5. Your passport is like our third arm
Your passport is literally worth more than your entire net worth combined. You would rather fall off a cliff into a moat full of hungry sharks while wearing a flaming straight jacket than loose that thing.
What are some other signs that you might be an expat? Tell me in the comments!
Today is a huge national holiday on the island. It is Emancipation Day! On July 1, Sint Maarten celebrates the official end of slavery in the Dutch Caribbean.
Ironically, this is not the date of the true end of slavery. Slavery on the island ended in sometime in 1848, while the date we celebrate is July 1, 1863. Why is this? It’s actually a pretty interesting story.
In 1863, the French government abolished slavery. This meant that the northern half of Saint Martin gave freedom to their slaves, but the slaves on the southern Dutch side were still in bondage. Naturally, this caused the Dutch slaves to run across the border for freedom. Because this caused a massive disruption in the Dutch side’s productions, the Dutch slaveholders all agreed to release their slaves and pay them wages. Fifteen years later, the Dutch government officially decreed emancipation for all slaves in the Dutch Caribbean, which is what we celebrate today.
There is a lot of fascinating history about slaves on Sint Maarten that is, unfortunately, not widely known or taught in history books. I only know bits and snatches about brave people making a break for freedom, maroons living in caves and eluding detection for years, and secret conversations in the very salt pond I drive past every day. If you have a chance, it’s worth looking up. I’d love to write historical fiction on some of these people someday, or read somebody else’s. If you any good sources, please let me know in the comments.
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!
