We often get asked the question, "What is it like to live overseas?" We then struggle to answer that question because of the deep complexities that it faces. Below is a blog post from A Life Overseas that helps explain our answer in a much better way than we have ever articulated. So my hope is that this helps answer that question for anyone who has asked us about living in Cambodia.
"Expatriates are told to prepare for
Culture Shock and expect to experience it within their first year.
But what about after that year? What about after seven years? Nine? Fifteen? What about the frustrations and tears, hurt and stress, internal (or external) cries for ‘home’? What about those days when you will do anything to get.out.of.here?
After the first year, I thought I was free from culture shock. Now I would delve deep, adapt, feel more local than foreign. So when I continued to struggle with cultural issues and when that struggle increased and peaked around year seven, I thought I was crazy. Failing. The Only One.
This wasn’t culture shock, I had moved well beyond shock. So what was it? I discovered that two things happen,
after culture shock, as we root in a land not our own, as we love hard and get involved and take risks.
Culture pain comes when the difficult, or different, or confusing aspects of a new culture
begin to affect you at a deep, personal level. Living overseas is
really your life now. This is your past, your present, your future. This is where your children learned to walk and ride bikes, where you laugh and grieve and
build a tapestry of memories.
Things like corruption and poor health care, attitudes toward HIV, education of girls, adoption, or poverty, religious rituals, children’s rites of passage, are not theoretical anymore. This is now
you giving birth,
your daughter in the classroom,
your adoption papers misplaced,
your coworker recently diagnosed. These issues are now yours to navigate.
And sometimes, that hurts.
Culture stripping begins the moment you touch the earth in this new place. It doesn’t stop. Ever. Not even when you return to your passport country.
Culture stripping forever changes who you are.
Culture stripping is the slow peeling back of layers and layers of self. You give up pork. You give up wearing blue jeans. You give up holidays with relatives. And those are the easy things. Your ideas about politics and faith and family, your sense of humor and taste in clothes, the books you read, evolve and change. Even, potentially, your outlook on spirituality.
You have little instinctive protective layers between you and the world. Buffers like fluency, shared history, family, no longer buoy you. You are learning, but you will never be local. And so you also are stripped of the idealized image of yourself as a local.
This also hurts,
but it is a good, purposeful pain.
Kind of like Eustace in C.S. Lewis’s The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. He was turned into a dragon and failed to get rid of the scales on his own but Aslan comes.
“That very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when we began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’d ever felt…he peeled the beastly stuff right off…and there it was lying on the grass…and there was I smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been…I’d been turned into a boy again. You’d think me simply phony if I told you how I felt about my own arms. I know they’re no muscle and are pretty mouldy compared with Caspian’s, but I was so glad to see them.”
The arms, the new self, this new way of living and seeing the world look different than before you moved overseas. Not perfect, not like anyone else’s, and still sensitive. But different because the shock, the pain, the stripping, have changed you.
And you are glad to see it."
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