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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!

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 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).

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 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!

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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.

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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.

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  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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Our Second Anniversary

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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10 Things I Learned While Living in Sint Maarten

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!

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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.

Read more on my post about roads here.

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Sint Maarten, Caribbean

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Anywhere you go, there are things you’ll love and hate about the culture. But it’s always an adventure!

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A Year Ago at Disney

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It’s hard to believe that we only have a year left on this island. Equally hard to believe is that a year ago, we were at Disney land! Looking back to our trip to Disney puts time in perspective for me. Sometimes if feels like our time on Sint Maarten is an eternal summer that can never end, but our time here is not so very long after all. I don’t know if that makes me happy or sad. I do look forward to a new season and actually being able to have a job, but I don’t want to leave the friends and the life I’ve made here. Time just keeps ticking on.

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The reason we went to California was because of Ben’s interview for American University of the Caribbean. We drove six hours to LA (and then another three through LA for the last twenty miles to the interview location) from Phoenix for the interview and a getaway weekend. At first, we weren’t sure if Disney tickets were a wise financial decision, since our med school location was still up in the air at that point. But my parents decided that we needed to go– especially since Ben had never been to a Disney park. So they gave us tickets!

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Of course, we had an awesome time at Disney Land. It had been a decade since I’d been, so we discovered it together. I had the layout of Minnie Mouse’s house memorized, but I didn’t even remember that Frontierland exists! The fireworks were rained out, but we were able to see something better– the Abe Lincoln show. Seriously, that’s the best part of Disneyland. After Rapunzel, of course.

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Awesome cup of coffee at Nam– champion latte designers!

Ben nailed his interview. A few weeks later, we knew where we were going to go for med school: some faraway island called Sint Maarten where people stood on the beach and let airplanes fly a few hundred feet above their heads.

We started planning. We had no idea what life would look like. No idea what our home would be, who our community would be, what we’d do in our free time. Everything was behind the next door, and we couldn’t wait to step through it.

We’re kind of in the same boat now. In a year, we’ll leave again. We don’t know what life will look like or where we’ll be headed.

A year ago, we were at Disney. A year from now, we’ll be getting ready to move again. Life changes fast. I don’t want to miss the moment I’m in now. Sometimes, I just wish away time so I can get to the next new and exciting thing. But I know I need to hold on to each precious season and moment. There are so many years of change and adventure ahead, but I’ll never get this day back! So I’ll make the most of it.

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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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