Full Circle - Manhattan to Ljubljana and back again!

New York has kept me wildly busy, more busy than I could have ever imagined. I wear many different hats working with many different organizations, but one of the jobs I recently took on is as contributing Blogger for Slovenian - American startup Zemanta. Last week posted my first piece; it is an interview I did with my boss, Tin Dizdarevic. Incidentally, Tin, who was born and grew up in Slovenia and Serbia until he was a teenager, first met me when he was visiting family in Slovenia last year, and the reason he knew of me is because of this very blog. Full circle, huh?

Click the pic above to read the interview!

Homesickness

I found this interesting article on the condition of homesickness that describes the situation chillingly well. Thought I'd share with some of the other expats (and maybe even those who are in the same country but just miles away from the place they consider home), so that you know you're not nuts and you're not alone.

Here's an excerpt:

What Are You Doing Here?

A visitor is often asked, What are you doing here? It seems that in the question there is the suggestion that, because you don't belong here, there must be some good reason for you to be here. One can't leave home and just be somewhere else. People do leave their own homes for a variety of reasons: vacation, conferences, work, schooling, or resettlement. If they meet and get into conversation with inhabitants they are inevitably asked the purpose of their visit. We are all curious as to the reasons some people make temporary or permanent breaks with their home ties, perhaps with a sense of wonder regarding what would be deemed important enough to initiate such a violent separation of oneself and one's foundations.

Indeed, visitors too may privately wonder sometimes about their reasons for being somewhere, as did the Canadian woman who, while visiting the outback of Australia, suddenly came across a wild bull: "I stared at the bull which barred our passage on that dirt road. Its huge bulk seemed to rise out of the dust at me and say, `What are you doing here?'" Is the answer to this question worth the discomfort, the feeling of homesickness that may accompany it?

Nevertheless, visitors often strive to overcome aspects of this strangerness by making a space of their own where they find themselves. The hotel room becomes the inner space to which they return after venturing into the city to take a look around. It seems that the establishment of home (even if it is a temporary home) involves not only the "carving out of chaotic space a definite area set apart from the rest of the world" (Bollnow, 1961, p. 34), but also requires that one has a place from which to set forth and to which to return.

The establishment of a place to which we can return and feel a sense of ownness is indicative of what is missed in homesickness. Even if we recognize something as being similar to that of home, we still do not feel the sense of home, the sense of ownness, or intimate familiarity. According to Schutz (1971, p. 113), "the longing for re-establishing the old intimacy-not only with persons but also with things-is the main feature of what is called `homesickness.'" However, it is not enough to say that homesickness is a longing to reestablish old intimacies with things, space, and people. Home cannot be reduced to only people, places, and things; and therefore, to miss home involves something more fundamental to our way of being-in-the-world.

Read the rest here.

The Climb

For a while now, I've had this silent agreement with myself and now I think I'd better make it public so that I will have extra eyes on me, making sure I keep to it. Here it is:

I will not take a job teaching English.

Slovenia is a tough and uninviting place for a foreigner looking for a job. Just like America, if you are from south of here, the country will open its doors to you if you want to do the tough and yucky stuff, join a road crew, clean toilets, work the late shift on an assembly line.

If you are from due north of here, then you're probably coming from the home office in Vienna or Dusseldorf. A two year assignment and a cushy corner office.

If you are from anywhere else, it is a pretty tough slog. But if you come from a country with a popular language, then-- you're in luck! -- your brain and your tongue are your ticket to low waged and insecure day labor! Yes, you can be paid a couple euros an hour to better the lives of Slovenian business men and students, to watch them step on your head as they climb their career ladder, while you dangle on the bottom rungs. Yes, you!

Look, I'm sure teaching English has its charms, and for full disclosure I will say that I spent a month or two tutoring a friend in the language, so I am a bit familiar with how it goes and know it isn't the worse thing ever. But, howsabout if I just want a normal salaried job? What then?

I know of a tiny few foreigners who have normal office jobs, and while I was happy for them that they were in the right place(being married to the right people to bring them in to the organization) to get such positions, I wasn't envious because I was content to keep on freelancing while I patiently waited for my own "career" or interesting position to come around the corner. However, after two years of being here, I'm beginning to get skeptical and am starting to set my sights lower. After all this time, I'm beginning to think I'd be happy to be neatly folded into a company, with a punch card, regular payroll, water cooler chats and whatnot. Oh cruel irony, Slovenia, what I dreaded most in America has now become my greatest aspiration.

I am trying not to be bitter and hold anything against this place. I don't think the founding fathers of Slovenia ever had any lofty ideas of this country being a place where people could come from other places and make their fortune. Heck, I don't even think they want it to be a place where the natives have much of a shot at making their fortune. This is a place that lives on workplace discrimination. A place where someone at a job interview told me "It might be nice to have a black person," knowing full well I had no legal recourse.

So what's in order? Social change! How do we get it? By activism, marching in the streets, signing petitions, and maybe -- and this is where I can contribute -- by refusing to teach English.

All Quiet on the Whelville Front

Mariachi setting in Ljubljana

Sorry I haven't been posting much. There really just hasn't been a heck of a lot going on. Or maybe I haven't been thinking much about the things that have been going on.

I've been working a little and putting more time into driving since I STILL am shaky on the whole enterprise. These days, I am actually eager for my lessons (The Captain has now taken the helm as my instructor), and I can see my goals coming slowly but surely into view. This time, I am gonna stick with it until I get there.

I recently had a new (but good) friend come to visit me from Berlin and it got me thinking about a lot of things. We had a lot of good and interesting (and sometimes hilarious!) chats and we really just connected. One day, we were in a cafe and a couple in hilariously awful outfits strolled up, and she and I just looked at each other and started cracking up laughing. It was wonderful. I don't have that connection with any of my friends here. That's the good stuff, the stuff that I hope will come in time....

Since my friend and I are both Americans who are living the expat life at the moment, talks and thoughts did tend to focus on that. While some expats are here in Europe with a definite expiration date, a clear feeling that they want to live in America, yearly trips back home. I don't have that feeling, I don't have that urge. I even mentioned to my friend that I think that when I have kids, I'd like to send them to Ghana on a regular basis so they can learn the language and be familiar with family and culture. She asked how it would work being "tricultural" and I told her that I think I'd just cut the American part out a bit; meaning I probably just wouldn't be taking them or sending them to America much. I was trying to think about why. Am I denying some part of myself? Am I harboring some sort of chauvinistic animosity towards the US? I don't think it is any of that. I think I am fairhanded toward the country, it has definite plusses and minuses as any other. It's definitely a neat place, it's the country with places that I know best. It's the country where , when I speak, I am best understood. I will always be plenty American and pass that along to any kids I might have, since that is what I am and the only thing I can honestly bring to the table culture-wise. I guess there is some idea that I could equip any children I might have with things that would help them combat that Non-Belonging feeling that I've grappled with so much. Maybe Non-Belonging is sometimes just part of the human condition?

I haven't formed any one real coherent thought to express what I am thinking, what might be the reason, but here are a couple thoughts:

One idea surrounds around the fact that, as a black person, I kinda feel more or less uncomfortable everywhere.

I miss my family and friends, but they are not necessarily centrally-located in one American city or anything.

I do miss shopping and cultural events and bookstores and certain foods, but I am unsure whether that all is worth building a life around.

There is also the fact, that I don't think I was very successful at America. I am not sitting on top of the world here in Slovenia, but I think I am doing considerably better.

So, I don't know what the truth of the matter is -- probably a little from column A and a little from column B. Do you have similar or divergent thoughts about your expat experience? Hey Mom!! You are an expat, any thoughts? Do share!

Booked!

A great find from the local used bookstore here in Radovljica

One of the greatest pains of being an expat here in Slovenia is that I have a very difficult time getting my hands on books. Before coming here, I was a passionate patron of the very fantastic New York Public Library and I have always been an avid reader.My father is also a voracious reader and (former?) book collector who raised me with a fine appreciation for used bookstores and the dusty-smell of an old edition. In fact, my first job was at a library, and I've actually worked at six libraries all together.

So, when I finally decided to move here "for good" I had to very tearfully say goodbye to a great many of my books at my old flat in Brooklyn. These days I am not only scrambling around for my next read, I am also often scrambling for a place to be around old books. Luckily, we have such a place here in Radovljica and I have found quite a few special finds (see the one above) in both Slovenian and English.

Luckily I just came across this fantastic site, Bookstore Guide, which features reviews of great bookstores across Europe. After checking that it had my favorite place in Berlin (and probably one of my fave places in the world!), Another Country bookstore, I knew the site was legit. Of the three stores they mention in Ljubljana, I've been to two and will soon be checking out the third, looking for my next fix.

Steering My Life

Since coming back from Berlin, I've been very frustrated with Slovenia and Slovenian people for all myriad of valid and invalid reasons.

I am having a breakthrough here now. A breakthrough that I've had many times before in other situations, but always forget to re-apply:

You get out what you put in.

I need to open myself up to this place more. I am not sure what that is going to mean, but I hope that putting that intention out there will make it more clear.

What you plug into your inner GPS is where you will arrive in your life.
- Ian Lawton

I'll keep you posted!

Andrea Lee: Today's Summer Reading, Tomorrow's Lifestyle?

Andrea looking gorgeous, probably in some fabulous villa

A friend recently told me about the Black American expat writer, Andrea Lee, who moved first to Moscow many years ago and now lives in Torino, Italy where she is married to an Italian count(!). She has written a number of books (both fiction and non-fiction, which seem to range from classy to trashy) about expat women, and she has also been a contributing writer at places such as New York Times and Vogue. My friend told me that this might be something for me to aspire to and it all sounds good to me!

Check out this interview with her here on NPR, while I hunt down her books for some good summer reading and a little inspiration.

Black Expat Supastah

I'm sorry I haven't blogged more. I am working on a few other posts and should have them up soon.

So, two funny things happened today which made me feel slightly internet famous.

The first one was discovering that I was pictured on a page of very beautiful people on Le Coil.

The second one was being told by the lovely Adrienne, that I'd been profiled on Black Expat.com.

I'd completely forgotten that I'd responded to this interview. It was quite a while ago, and my life and opinions have already changed so much that I might have to do an update to many of the questions. But it is definitely a good snapshot of one moment in my time. Check it out!

Far From Home

A song for my black expats and globetrotters....get up, stay up.

So Far From Home feat. Phonte - Jazzanova

Second Chances

Hurray for second chances. After one bad experience (no one talked to me!!) at Friday Night Drinks, the expats monthly drinking party, I purposely stayed away. But my awesome new friend Maja suggested we go and so I swallowed my hurt feelings and went, and boy am I glad I did! We had an internationally super fun time. I drank, I laughed, I cracked dumb jokes, and I talked politics, culture, food, and more with beautiful people from a dizzying array of countries. It is how my life was before I came here and how it should be every day*! I will definitely be back. Hurray!















*Well, maybe subtract the copious amounts of white wine.

Punching In

Dear Other American Expats/Travellers Around Le Monde,

How many of you have already received your absentee ballot?

I am still waiting.

When should I start to worry?

Yours Truly,
Brainy, Bigmouthed, Black, and For Barack!...By The Balkans

Garble

Things are OK here. Alas, I am too busy to go to Serbia this time, I've got projects to finish before The Cap and I shove off to the states for our holiday. :(

I just read this great post on Miss Expatria's fabulous blog and am reposting it here, not only because it pretty much hits the nail on the head, but also in light of all the people who've told me they would be moving out of America if McCain wins the election.

****************************************************************************
Update on Expat Life

“What’s it like?” is a question I often get from people about being an expat freelance writer living in the South of France. “Wanna trade lives?” is another one. I’m living many people’s dream; hell, I’m living my own (albeit one country west of where my dream waits patiently for my return). I wish everyone who truly longs for expat life could experience it; but, to be honest, it’s not for everyone.

Although I’ve lived an expat life for years, this is the first time I’ve been involved in any kind of expat community - not only here in Montpellier among the usual suspects, but in the greater online expat community as well. In learning about everyone’s reasons for following a path similar to mine, and in watching the comings and goings of their daily lives, I’ve often wondered what it is that we have in common.

I have yet to come up with an answer, but I do think there are some realities all expats face that put one’s dream into stark perspective - and that send some of us packing. I’d like to talk about some of them, and I’d like to hear from my expat peeps in the comments about some of theirs.

1. You have to earn a living. Whether it’s an American corporate environment overseas, working virtually from your home in a variety of professions or bartending at a beachside watering hole, a portion of your daily life will involve some kind of work. Every single job on the planet has its drawbacks, its bad days and its ability to make you dread getting out of bed in the morning, no matter where you live.

2. You have to run errands. Sure, your errands may include a trip to a stunningly beautiful farmer’s market where luscious produce is sold for a song. You might adore lengthy consultations with your local butcher about tonight’s dinner choices. But for the most part, errands are errands. All over the world dry cleaners lose clothes, people in front of you pay for a week’s groceries with spare change, other drivers suck, public transportation attracts screaming babies and store employees would rather talk on the phone than help you.

3. You’re a long way from home, part one. While this may be a win/win for some, most people have decent relationships with family and friends they would take a bullet for. Sometimes, it can be hard to reconcile this closeness with whatever it is that makes an expat head off to unknown lands. It can be a rude awakening when, even in this connected world, you find yourself longing for a little quality face time with those you love.

4. You’re a long way from home, part two. Going back for a visit can be another rude awakening. Many people say they’re heading “home,” when home is where you live now. The people you love, and who love you, have no frame of reference for the new life you live; what you thought was going to be a heartfelt reunion of kindred souls can become a polite chat with strangers who don’t understand your new fascination with ice cubes, car sizes and noise levels. It’s called reverse culture shock, and it’s a very real part of expat life.

5. You’re living in a different culture. Honestly, I don’t think there are words to describe how fundamentally this affects the expat experience, but I’ll try.

I’ve never felt more like myself - like the person I was meant to be - than when I lived in Rome. Everything made sense to me, even the stupid, bad stuff, even on my worst days. I might have had the least amount of culture shock in the history of expatriation.

But there is always a point at which I hit a wall that divides me from the Italian culture I want with every fiber of my being to understand. My best friends - my Gay Mafia, whom I am convinced were sent to me directly from God - and I don’t share the same childhood memories, the same pop culture icons and references, the same moments in a nation’s history that define a generation.

Music is a good example. For Americans my age, John Cusack blasting In Your Eyes from a boom box into Ione Skye’s window made us all believe in true love. For Italians, Peter Gabriel is famous for Shock the Monkey.

I mean, really. What are you supposed to do with that kind of cultural divide?

We had Watergate; they had the Red Brigades. We have the Superbowl (even though Italians are better at Roman numerals!); they have San Remo (even though I have come to hate Pippo Baudo with the fury of a thousand suns). It’s being the only one in a Paris movie theater laughing at Fargo; it’s my Italian friends taking note of Marcello Mastroianni’s accent in a scene featuring other distractions.

In trying to explain the cultural divide, I am reminded of something Marco said to me once during a misunderstanding long since forgotten: “Christine, we lost the war.”

While the cultural divide surely attracts expats to foreign shores, it can wear a person down to have to explain themselves constantly; or, worse, to adjust one’s framework of references to such an extent that an undeniable part of who they are becomes secreted away.

The Road Home

sunset on the way home from Celovec/ Klagenfurt

We had an impromptu shopping day in Klagenfurt yesterday, but for some reason all I really wanted to do was walk around in the nice weather. It figures....

*

In other news, with regards to this, I'm currently of the mind that I am more of an explorer than anything else. I get a thrill out of pushing the limits of my comfort zone and watching myself adapt, I like meeting new people, openminded, fascinating, thinking people who are as curious as I am. That having been said, it's a curious thing that I am still reluctant to go to expat things. In theory it sounds like the perfect place to meet people like me, but in practice it doesn't usually feel that way. How strange...

This or That

Me in Mexico last week

Always one to torture myself with abstract thoughts, I spent part of my winter vacation thinking about expats vs. migrant workers vs. immigrants. After a few weird experiences with expats, I am wondering what an expat actually is and whether I really want to/should/can identify myself as one and even if I do identify whether I should gravitate towards that community. There are a lot of other immigrants/migrant workers I've seen around my town and also in Ljubljana who have probably never been to a single expat event. While the migrant workers I've seen here seem to come from many different backgrounds and work different types of jobs here, I think there are a lot of people who may be automatically excluded from these expats groups and their activities by the mere fact that either they don't speak English or don't have web access or lack funds or (like me) don't have adequate transportation. Where do they hang out? Where/ what is their social support network? As I am trying to build my own social network I am curious to think about this.

I'm not sure where this is going, but I am probably going to be rambling about this off and on for the next weeks, just musing and throwing out information. I've grown up used to feeling marginalized, and it was a weird (but not surprising) experience to get marginalized by Americans outside of America, however it is a good reminder that I usually have more fun and learn more by lingering at the margins anyways. So that's what I'm gonna try and focus on for a while. ...well, that and ten million other things.

Ladies Night

There is something about an event that starts with the word "Girls'", "Ladies'" or "Womens'" that strikes fear in the heart of many a man. Alas, though I've tried (and will continue trying), The Captain is no different. When I told him I was going to an expat "Girls Night Out" I think he immediately got the vision of a veritable United Nations of women coming together to devise ways to draw and quarter him for his many (real? imagined?) indiscretions against our fairer sex in his youth. While I did little to disuade his fears he was still kind enough to promise to pick me up when I was finished.

And so, yesterday evening I went to my first official expat event and the first proper female gathering I've been to in a while (not counting the day of my unfortunate accident). We handful of ladies gathered at the big soulless cinema to grab a pizza and check out a film. I had a great time enjoying the company and being regaled with great stories from a no-nonsense New Jersey native who's been here for 20 years. Later, while we sat in the film, I was able to help translate a few of the Arabic scenes for a Dutch member of the group using the Slovene subtitles (she's been here for a month longer than me but my Slovene is progressing faster since she spends all day speaking Dutch at the embassy!). So that was also fun.

When the movie ended, The Captain called to say he was almost there. I hugged all the women quickly, with promises to meet up again soon. As I skipped out to the car with a big smile on my face, The Captain grinned and flicked the door knob up. He was pleased to know that we'd only had light discussion over pizza and that his certain doom had been averted for at least one more day.