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10 Things I Learned About Cultural Transition: Part 2

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!

woods walking

 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).

hills

 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!

walking near the ocean

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.

flower yellow

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!

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10 Things I Learned About Cultural Transition: Part 1

 

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.

  1. 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.

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  1. 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.

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  1. 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.

  1. 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.

atlanta

  1. 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!

Keep Reading: Click Here for Part 2

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The Butterfly Farm SXM

The Caribbean is filled with with beautiful butterflies of all sizes and colors. In the fall, you can see clouds of them swirling around the hills and valley of the tropical isles. In the summer, they’re less common int he wild, but you can still visit the Butterfly Farm to see nature’s winged beauties in action. Zebra Butterfly

The Butterfly Farm has locations in both Aruba and Saint Martin. In Saint Martin, it is on the French side of the Island near Galion Bay Beach. In my ten months of living on the island, I had passed in many times on my way to surf, but never had a chance to stop. My friend Stacey and I had both wanted to visit for a long, time, so we decided to take a couple of the kids we know and make an afternoon of it.

Butterfly farm sxm

Visiting the farm is actually pretty inexpensive compared to farms in the states. We also got the local’s discount: $10 for adults and $5 for kids. Viator has a deal for tourists: $56 for a trip to the farm, a tour, and then three hours at Orient Bay, Saint Martin’s most poplar beach, with all transportation included.


St. Maarten Combo Tour: Butterfly Farm and Orient Bay

from: Viator

When we got there, we were welcomed with a friendly greeting from the staff and led into the butterfly enclosure.

boy on a bride

The best part of the whole experience was seeing the kids’ face when we walked in! Giant blue butterflies floated past our noses, and we couldn’t help but stop and stare at all the life that filled the air around us. Later, our guide told us that the afternoon is a quiet time in the enclosure, so I can only image how incredible it must be in the morning.

girl and butterfly

We walked around for a while before our tour started. There was a lot to see. Most of the butterflies were as big as our faces!boy a huge butterfly

We joined a tour of the facility. The tours are offered in both English and French. The kids would have been fine with either, but we Americans were happy to take the tour in English. Our guide was wonderful. She made it interesting for both the kids and the adults and was happy to answer all our questions.

milkweed butterfly tour

The tour took us through the entire enclosure and gave s a complete overview of the entire life cycle. I thought I knew everything about butterflies, but I still learned a few things!

BUTTERFLY EGGS

First, we learned about butterfly eggs. When a female butterfly is ready to lay eggs, she finds a host plant to leave them on. Only certain plants, like milkweed, can be a host plant. The host plant has to be edible for the caterpillar and should be poisonous to give the caterpillar a slight toxicity.

huge caterpillar

This huge caterpillar reminded me of the one from Bug’s Life. It becomes an owl butterfly. It wraps itself in a leaf cocoon and creates a chrysalis inside. It stays like that for a long time, and then becomes a butterfly with a lifespan of only five days.

 

chrysalis

We loved the chrysalis cabinets. Our guide told us that “chrysalis” is derived from the Greek word “gold.” Most chrysalises have at least a little gold to warn away predators. My favorite one was entirely gold! Our guide said that the butterflies hatch during the night and sometimes up to 75 butterflies will fly out in the morning.

Blue butterfly

Once the butterfly breaks free of its chrysalis, it spends its time drinking nectar from its straw-like proboscis, mating, and laying eggs.

yellow butterfly

At the end of the tour, our guide let us put fermented orange juice on our hands to attract the butterflies. We were able to let them land on us, which was just magical!

women and butterflies

The little one carried around this butterfly for about half an hour. It didn’t want to leave her! I told her it was because she’s so sweet.

girl holding butterfly

The rarest butterfly in the farm is this white one. Mister G said that it was his favorite of all.

white butterfly

The kids were great at spotting camouflaged butterflies and caterpillars. The little one found some green caterpillars way up in the trees, and she kept peeking under leaves to discover patches of eggs.  green butterfly

The end of our time came too soon! We couldn’t believe it was already closing time.

yellow butterfly feeding

Just before we walked out, one last butterfly landed on Mister G’s hand for a brief moment… a quick goodbye butterfly kiss.

boy holding butterfly

butterfly farm
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St. Maarten Combo Tour: Butterfly Farm and Orient Bay

from: Viator

 

 

The Dean’s List Again

We’ve started Round Three of medical school, and we’re celebrating two semesters of achievement in the books! Ben made Dean’s List once again last semester.

Tonight was the recognition ceremony, complete with a speech by the lovely Dr. Julie Taylor. I think Dr. Taylor is one of the coolest people I know– she’s had over 100 publications and a lot of important jobs, but she doesn’t act too important to talk to someone like me. I’m pretty low on the totem pole as far as the medical world goes. If I ever end up in a prestigious position, I hope I’ll remember to be like her.

Speaking of awesome people, here is Ben receiving his second Dean’s List certificate! I’m so proud of him. He has worked so hard these past eight months to stay toward the top of his class and, more importantly, perform to the best of his ability. He’s going to make one great doctor someday.
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The night ended with an Asian dinner catered by AUC staff and time spent with friends. Here’s a photo of us on the patio of American University of the Caribbean. Don’t you love that view? Too bad the students have to spend more time staring at textbooks than they can staring at those mountains. But as you can see, it pays off!

Portrait on the balcony

Two semesters down, three to go!

My Inspiration Wears a Little League Jersey

Well, my master’s classes are in full swing and I’m not exactly off to a fabulous start. Admitting that is hard for me, because I’m a type-A personality who had a 4.0 GPA in undergrad. People warned me that taking online classes can be a lot harder than actually going to class unless you’re extremely organized and on top of things. Generally, I am. But I’m a lot better with paper and pens than I am with a double-password access online classroom with instructions in electronic format in a few different places. Find the library on campus? No problem. Find the library online? Well, now. That is a different story.

So here I am, looking at ten articles that I have to read and use to write a discussion paper and post online for the class to read by… well, by last Sunday. I guess tomorrow’s deadline for the unit meant the unit closes then for further discussion, not that the reflection is due then. That is something really I wish I figured out before today. I guess now that I know, I won’t be making that mistake again.

I’m sitting here with my pen and paper, feeling a little discouraged about my abilities to pull this off. School has always been my strength, and now I don’t feel so sure that I can be good at this online school thing. Besides, everyone else in my cohort has a lot more experience than I do. And let’s not fail to mention the fact that this is University of London, and I’m American. Will I be able to remember to spell “analyzing” as “analysing” with an “s?” Or put my quote marks on the inside of my punctuation? Am I supposed to do ‘ or ” for quotes? Will I get marked down for spelling things American-style?

In the middle of this stream of self-doubt, an image breaks in:

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These kids are so inspiring. Every afternoon, they come from Dutch, French, and English schools to Player Development Program for further help with reading and math. It’s really hard for a lot of them. Being bilingual or trilingual makes learning to read really, really tough. Some of them are in sixth grade and struggle to read very basic English kid’s books. But they don’t give up, they don’t let embarrassment stop them, and they keep pushing to get better and work up from where they are.

I’ve seen Spanish-speaking kids learn English in two months. I’ve seen kids who struggle with reading and writing spend as long as needed to compose a thank-you letter. I’ve seen kids sit, study, and sound out long words in until they could read the whole book.

To me, writing a short summary of Curious George is not hard. Reading 16 pages doesn’t drain me. Conjugating and pronouncing verbs takes no mental energy. But it does for them, and I would say that they have to work a lot harder to get it right than I’ll have to for my master’s degree. Does it discourage them? Sometimes. Does it deter them? No, it doesn’t.

If a seven-year-old can learn to distinguish vowel names and sounds in French, English, and Spanish, I can learn to use “s” and “u” the British way. If a twelve-year-old can have the courage to learn English as he goes during baseball practice, I can have the courage to post my late work where everyone can see, have a positive, non-defeatist attitude, and do better next time. If a nine-year old can have the humility to do sight-word flash cards in front of his friends, then I can have the humility to admit I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m willing to do what it takes to improve.

You know, the kids at SXM Player Development Program think that they’re learning a lot from me. I guess they are. But I think I’m actually learning more from them. God knew what he was doing when he put me into their world. There’s a lot of determination, courage, and hard work going on at those blue picnic tables. There’s a lot to be inspired and encouraged by. There’s a lot to look at and think, “that’s how I want to be.” I know that if they can work hard and never throw in the towel, so can I.

So I’m going to wipe away these tears of frustration, go back to that online library, and find that PDF e-book that’s hiding from me. I’m going to write my best paper, and I’m going to turn it in even if everyone can see that I’m late. And tomorrow, I’m going to do better. And I’m going to do it with those kids as my inspiration and my encouragement.

Grocery Shopping in French

“Ground beef. Like, beef– cow meat– but it’s all ground up in little bits.” I did my best unofficial international sign language to accompany my explanation.

“Ah! Bœuf haché?” The grocery store employee led me to the freezer and pointed at the package of meat, eyebrows raised. “This?” He asked. It didn’t look exactly like the ground beef at Walmart, but it appeared to be ground beef nonetheless. I smiled and thanked him, placing the package in my cart.

There are only a handful of affordable grocery stores on the island of Sint Maarten, and my options are to pay $170 a trip to shop in English or $102.75 to shop in French. I choose the language barrier and saving seventy bucks.

I spend a lot of time staring at labels, trying to make out what this can or that box holds. I’ve become pretty good at guessing, and I’ve even picked up some French in the process (although don’t ask me to try to pronounce it). Whenever I learn to speak French, I’ll have a head start. I will know the word for every single food item ever invented.

Some of the labels are easy. I babysat for a bilingual family, and their kids called milk lait at all times. The cow on the front also helps.

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Others aren’t so easy. I always thought fromage was just the word for “cheese,” but apparently it’s the word for every single dairy product on the planet.

This is not cheese. It’s yogurt. When I bought it, I needed yogurt, but it looked like it could be  cottage cheese or whipped cream. I decided that the risk was worth it. Ben hoped it would be whipped cream, so he was disappointed.

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This does not say fromage, but it IS cheese. Thank goodness this bag is see-through, or I would have been even more confused than I already was.

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The hardest products to find are the ones I don’t know the French word for, can’t see through the packaging, and don’t even recognize the packaging. It took me a few trips and some asking around to find baking soda. I was looking for the small orange box, but apparently Arm and Hammer doesn’t do French.

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I suspect the packaging issue is why I still can’t find baking powder. My friend Aqiyla went shopping with me yesterday, and she couldn’t find it either, although she speaks French. You don’t realize how powerful branding is until you’re dropped in the middle of unrecognizable foreign brands.

One thing that is not hard for me to locate, however, is Nutella! I think I have a Nutella radar built into my brain. I’m OK with becoming more European, if it involves chocolate for breakfast. Yes, please!

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I have encouraging moments, too. I’m getting to the point where I can read a lot of French words, even if I couldn’t use a single one in conversation. I can understand most French signage around town, and I can tell the difference between all-purpose flour and pastry flour. I can even scan package ingredients for allergens and be fairly confident that I won’t send anyone into anaphylactic shock.

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I never thought I’d say this, but there are days that I really miss Walmart. But at the same time, I’m glad I have the chance to make shopping a bilingual adventure. After all, I never quite know what I’m going to come home with…

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