One of the strange things about living abroad is that you forget that life goes on back home. My parents are immigrants, and when they visit old friends in Taiwan, they come back talking about how much has changed since they left 40 years ago, and how their friends tease them for using old-fashioned Chinese. I suppose it would be the equivalent of going to the US and saying “groovy” or “neato.” It doesn’t take 40 years for things to change, though.
After living overseas for less than two years, I already notice that things aren’t the way they used to be. People change jobs, they move apartments, they break up and get together, they have babies, they move to other cities, in other words, they live their lives, and then you go back expecting things to be the way they were when you left, and all those gradual changes hit you all at once so it seems like the entire place has transformed, and it's not quite home but not quite foreign. Since when did your kid start talking? Didn’t there used to be a diner there? And when did all the scaffolding get taken down? I have no idea what you just said, is that a new slang word? What are these unfamiliar songs on the radio? What happened to my favorite bartender, does he not work here anymore? Why does the nickel look all weird now? And since when does the paper money have strange colors and huge faces on it? It costs how much to mail a letter now? When did you move to Brooklyn? Who is the stranger who lives in my old apartment? Didn’t anyone think to check with me before changing everything?
It’s strange to realize that life goes on, and that life changes, even when you’re not there, and that life as you knew it isn’t the same as the life that is still to come. You assume that you’ll one day go back and pick up where you left off, forgetting the fact that life isn’t something you can put down and pick up again.
And then there are the things that you wish you never had to put down in the first place. Like American holidays. Although the Swiss holiday system is more than generous, and I have more time off here than I ever had in the States, there is something that is supremely annoying about working on days that you have always thought of as holidays. Martin Luther King Day, Presidents’ Day, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day, and Thanksgiving come to mind. Veterans’ Day and Columbus Day, as well. Even though I get more days off per year here, it still feels strange and somehow wrong to be in the office on those days. On the other hand, it feels quite right to not come into the office on Swiss National Day, St. Stephen’s Day, Whit Monday, Ascension, and other holidays that are recognized here but not in the States. What can I say, I’m very open-minded when it comes to observing holidays, whether they are Swiss or American!
Life here changes, as well. The “smoke-free” movement has finally started making some headway in Switzerland. Most restaurants are smoking establishments, and those with non-smoking tables often have them directly beside smoking tables (and you know what they say, having a smoking section in a restaurant is like having a peeing section in a pool). There are smoking areas in airports that aren’t glassed in like the smoking fishbowls in the States. But progress is progress. Baby steps. My office building has finally gone smoke-free, and there are some public areas that are doing the same: the underground portions of the train station, Starbuck’s, and entire trains! I feel like I’ve gone back in time to witness the non-smoking revolution all over again.
And now for something completely different. You may recall my friend whose apartment burned down in November. He was telling his story to a group of new business associates, and one of them turned to him and said, “Hey, I read about that on someone’s blog.” The expat community here is small, incestuous, and more interconnected than we realize. I have never met this man, and neither had my friend, but somehow he ended up on my website, read about my friend, and recognized his story in the re-telling. As they say in Disneyland, “It’s a small world, after all.”
After living overseas for less than two years, I already notice that things aren’t the way they used to be. People change jobs, they move apartments, they break up and get together, they have babies, they move to other cities, in other words, they live their lives, and then you go back expecting things to be the way they were when you left, and all those gradual changes hit you all at once so it seems like the entire place has transformed, and it's not quite home but not quite foreign. Since when did your kid start talking? Didn’t there used to be a diner there? And when did all the scaffolding get taken down? I have no idea what you just said, is that a new slang word? What are these unfamiliar songs on the radio? What happened to my favorite bartender, does he not work here anymore? Why does the nickel look all weird now? And since when does the paper money have strange colors and huge faces on it? It costs how much to mail a letter now? When did you move to Brooklyn? Who is the stranger who lives in my old apartment? Didn’t anyone think to check with me before changing everything?
It’s strange to realize that life goes on, and that life changes, even when you’re not there, and that life as you knew it isn’t the same as the life that is still to come. You assume that you’ll one day go back and pick up where you left off, forgetting the fact that life isn’t something you can put down and pick up again.
And then there are the things that you wish you never had to put down in the first place. Like American holidays. Although the Swiss holiday system is more than generous, and I have more time off here than I ever had in the States, there is something that is supremely annoying about working on days that you have always thought of as holidays. Martin Luther King Day, Presidents’ Day, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day, and Thanksgiving come to mind. Veterans’ Day and Columbus Day, as well. Even though I get more days off per year here, it still feels strange and somehow wrong to be in the office on those days. On the other hand, it feels quite right to not come into the office on Swiss National Day, St. Stephen’s Day, Whit Monday, Ascension, and other holidays that are recognized here but not in the States. What can I say, I’m very open-minded when it comes to observing holidays, whether they are Swiss or American!
Life here changes, as well. The “smoke-free” movement has finally started making some headway in Switzerland. Most restaurants are smoking establishments, and those with non-smoking tables often have them directly beside smoking tables (and you know what they say, having a smoking section in a restaurant is like having a peeing section in a pool). There are smoking areas in airports that aren’t glassed in like the smoking fishbowls in the States. But progress is progress. Baby steps. My office building has finally gone smoke-free, and there are some public areas that are doing the same: the underground portions of the train station, Starbuck’s, and entire trains! I feel like I’ve gone back in time to witness the non-smoking revolution all over again.
And now for something completely different. You may recall my friend whose apartment burned down in November. He was telling his story to a group of new business associates, and one of them turned to him and said, “Hey, I read about that on someone’s blog.” The expat community here is small, incestuous, and more interconnected than we realize. I have never met this man, and neither had my friend, but somehow he ended up on my website, read about my friend, and recognized his story in the re-telling. As they say in Disneyland, “It’s a small world, after all.”
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