Saturday, February 18, 2017

In Expat Circles

Expat (noun): foreigner, alien, immigrant, TCK, migrant worker. Historically the term expatriate referred to those people who voluntarily left their home country in order to make their home in another country. Today we call these people immigrants, and expats are those of us who are living abroad temporarily for reasons relating to work. The British are known for choosing to  live somewhere else in the name of exploration, colonization or missions, without losing their connection with home. Together they form groups and try to recreate what they left behind.
My parents were expats in the modern sense of the word, leaving England to work in Brazil without ever giving up their British identity.  It was important to keep contact with home, because that is where they would eventually end up after their work was finished.  I grew up in this expat community with others who preferred to speak English and celebrate their traditional holidays together.  The American school was the center of this community and where I spent most of my time. The expat community at that time was quite small and I remember my parents being invited to greet Prince Charles on a royal visit simply because they were known Brits.  The embassies ran social events and all the families knew each other, and went to the same school or church.  It wasn't until it was time for me to graduate high school that I realized how important the school was to my identity. The thought of leaving was daunting. Where would I go next? I see now that I wasn't an expat, I was homeless (or a Third Culture Kid). Which is probably why I trained to be a teacher and ended up back in the same school I graduated from in Brasilia. It was the center of my universe as a child... my home... my community.
I continued to believe I was an expat for some time. I lived the expat life as it has become known today: one of luxury and enviable to those who stay home.  It didn't take people long to figure out that their money went further in the south of France than back home in England. People started living overseas because could afford a much more extravagant lifestyle.  My life in Rio was certainly that of an expat. We had a full time nanny, maid and a man who took care of our sailboat which we kept in a marina with the boats of the rich and famous. Family back in the US asked us why we would ever leave?  Of course we didn't share the darker side of that lifestyle: the lonely holidays, the fear of crime, the longing for a simpler life and the knowledge that you are doing the same job as someone hired locally who receives none of the same benefits and is paid a fraction of your salary.
We headed to the US for a change of pace. For me it was a far cry from going home, I became an immigrant, a legal alien. My visa made me sound as if I was from another planet. My husband pointed out that I may make the US my home, but I would never be considered American there. It is ironic that a country made of immigrants still has issues with foreigners wanting to make a new life there.  It didn't bother me one bit, I was used to being a foreigner, I actually don't know what it feels like to be local.
There is something that appeals to me about the glamour of traveling despite the fact that the job may certainly lack glamour. Our next job required a stop over on the Hawaiian islands, and after that a weekend skiing in the Alps became a reality. Now I am teaching in Kuwait, and I am certainly not an expat anymore. There are expats here, I catch a glimpse of their life when invited to an event at the US Embassy. They live in comfortable villas and get away with serving bacon and alcohol in a Muslim country. I am not one of them, here I am a migrant worker. I live in a ghetto with cheap housing for all the migrant workers who come here for a paycheck. I watch the men in hardhats line up in the street waiting for their bus to the oil fields before boarding my own bus to be taken to work. In the evening we are all brought back to sleep before waking up at 5AM the next morning to start the same day over again. On payday we all line up at the Exchange to wire money home. When I look at the first expatriates who left home to work hard and start a new life in America, I find it similar to my situation today. May all of you who are living as expats, or aspire to become an expat, beware. The meaning of an expat life has come full circle!