• this world is not my home

Transition is the time that starts when you know you will be moving, and which continues until you feel "settled" in your new home. For me it is one of the most difficult and not-so-fun times in life. That surprised me the first time, because I love to experience new things, to travel, and to learn. I was not prepared for how stressful this time can be.

I thought it might be helpful to start a discussion on some of the aspects of transition. Please jump in with anything you think of that relates, whether it is serious, funny, advice, or just an anecdote to share with some of us who will understand what you are talking about. I threw that last phrase in because I discovered that no matter how much they wanted to do so, my family and friends, that have never experienced a transition like the one you go through when moving cross-culturally, just couldn't relate to the stress or feelings I tried to share with them.

I remember walking off of an airplane in Casablanca with a pregnant wife and ten or twelve bags. Someone was supposed to meet us at the airport and help us get into town. They didn't, at least not when we exited the customs area. In fact, we waited over an hour until we finally found the person's phone number and figured out how to change money and use a pay phone...which doesn't sound that difficult until you are jet lagged, stressed, hungry, feeling lost, and trying not to lose everything you own...oh, and you can't find anyone that speaks a language you understand to help you.

Finally the person arrived and we made it into town. Phew! We slept on cushions on the living room floor at their place while we looked for an apartment, bought a bed, and moved in. Then it hit us. Here we were, a couple of people right around thirty years old (to be fair, I was 31, my wife was 29), with the linguistic capacity of infants in the local language. That was terrifying. We hadn't learned enough to be able to make ourselves understood well or even to communicate at the level of "toddler." I was a bit humiliated. It was good for me, but I really don't enjoy admitting that.

Stress can be a good thing, depending on how you deal with it. I used the stress of my poor language skills, lack of cultural understanding, and impending first-time parenthood to propel me headlong into intensive language study. I memorized. I went out and got lost in the city for hours solely for the purpose of forcing myself to learn how to ask for directions and understand them. Yeah, I went a bit nuts, too.

I have a million different thoughts running through my head as I write this. What about transitioning back to a culture of origin? Wow. That is a huge shock, mainly because you don't usually realize that, while the culture you came from has remained mostly the same, you have changed dramatically. Things that seemed normal to you no longer do. Things you once loved may seem empty, while things that used to make you feel indifferent suddenly become important. Oh, it is fun in both directions!

Instead of writing a book to start this discussion, I think I will stop here and let others begin to share. I have a ton more to write about that I will get to as time passes. With that, I'll transition to the next person...

After living overseas for seven years, my husband and three children and I are now preparing to move back to our home country.  The move is still four to five months away, but we just finalized the decision to move this last week.  And what a week it has been.  Before the move was finalized and my husband and I were quietly talking about possibilities, I was full of hope and expectation and rather looking forward to living again in a country where I feel like I know what is going on.  And what a joy to think of being inside the language again and close to family and shopping that is easy and familiar.  But now that the decision has been made public (telling our children and families and coworkers and friends) I feel like I am spinning out of control.  Yesterday I was actually confused as to what country I was living in at that moment.  I was emotionally disoriented and having a very hard time concentrating on the details of life that were in front of me. We made some new friends last week and had them over to our home yesterday and I kept walking out of the room.  I couldn't engage in the conversation, and when I tried to sit down to at least be present and listen, I had a hard time breathing, hence the removing myself from the room.  I must admit that I am surprised by the intensity of my emotion at such an early stage in the leaving process.  I expected to go through grieving and intense emotion in August sometime (when many of my current responsibilities would be completed), but definitely not now, not today.  So that is where I am at for the moment ... living from moment to moment, with waves of emotion sweeping over me.

In preparing to go back to our home culture, I am noticing different cultural things that my children have picked up that flow nicely with living in Morocco, but will not translate to living in America.  For example, my eldest daughter (who is six and has declared that she is half a grown up  ) points to everything with her middle finger.  All my children are good at crowding to the front (just a way of life here, nothing rude about it).  And they are very good at eating with their fingers instead of using utensils (also the norm for eating a family meal served in one dish).  And my two year old walks to our hanoot (corner store) with me at least once every day where he gets to pick out penny candy, and at our local pastry shop he is given lots of kisses and handfuls of free cookies every time we go. Hmmmmm. I think we are in for some interesting times when we move home to America.

All I ever wanted was to live in the same house. I wanted to live there my whole life. I wanted stability. I wanted to cling to the known. I would imagine that is a direct result of my having lived in more homes than I had fingers by the time I was ten, and adding four or five more by the time I was twenty. By my graduation from high school at eighteen years old, the longest I had ever lived in one home was four years. In the twenty years since, I lived in one home seven years, and it holds the current record. I have lived in multiple cultures, language areas, and countries.

Transition time has come yet again. Again, I find myself hoping that this will be the last one, and it seems there is actually that potential...after the chaos of the process is complete.

Between now and the fall my family and I will be closing a business, selling or packing everything we own, and moving to a different continent. It is a stressful time. There is a lot that will need to happen, some of which is already in process. I'll add my thoughts to Heather's in this conversation as the process continues in the hopes that this website will stay around for a very long time and be of help to others in similar processes.

The first wall I have run in to: other people's expectations and opinions. Sometimes, when you are doing what you think is best, you find that people you love and respect do not agree. Within our family unit, we are all of the same mind on this move. Some of our friends and family are excited, others think it is a bad thing, or are disappointed. That is hard.

In preparing to visit another country this summer and possibly return there to live, I seem to be making my way through some transitional stages that I would like to share.

The first stage was the "bewildered/clueless" stage...this is me dialoging with myself..."what is going on? I keep trying to make plans and NOTHING is going accordingly. Yet, I know that I am supposed to go to this country, but it is not in the way that I would have expected."

Then I wised up and entered the "spaced out" stage. This is where I am at my current job teaching all of my little students and thinking about the country that I will be going to. I must have that far off look on my face because my little students look @ me inquisitively and wave their hands saying "Miss Hall, please come back to earth." Instantly, I am snapped back into reality and realize that I am still in my present country.

Next comes the "confused stage"...asking myself am I REALLY supposed to be doing this? I am just trying to do what I am supposed to be doing, but it doesn't really make sense to me. Oh well.

On we go to the "people just don't understand me" stage.  I am out talking with my friends and sharing with them all of the awesome changes that I'm going through in preparing to live in a different culture. Their response-"Wow, that's really cool, so what else is new?"

Lastly..(my current stage) is the "emotional rollar coaster" stage...look @ me strangely or say the wrong thing and I might break down crying...just kidding, it's not that bad..I am realizing though that it will be hard to say goodbye to the people that I love so dearly. I am kind of understanding that these preparations are essential to make the transition from my current culture to the next smooth and successful.