If you've read my last few posts, you've probably noticed that I've been unreasonably fixated on food of recent. I mean this in a couple of senses. First, as I have noted, I spend a good deal of mental energy on worrying if I will find a particular item, like beer or milk or cream of mushroom soup. And then, if I happen upon said item, I try to do black market math in my head to determine how much the item actually costs in dollars and how much it will cost me to buy a dozen to hoard in my apartment in preparation for the next shortage. Secondly, I've found myself lost in la la land on more occasions than I care to mention, daydreaming about what I am going to eat during my two weeks in America. Most recently, I've be fantasizing about Starbucks Eggnog Latte's, Trader Joe's entire freezer section, and everything on the Chic-Fil-A menu. Personally, I think this current list is totally tacklable in two weeks. I hope some of you will help me rise to this challenge.
Finally, with Thanksgiving this week, I have been thinking about missing dinner with my family. Man, nobody warns you about holidays as an expat. This Thursday, I'll be at work as usual, then I have a Spanish lesson. Then maybe I'll have a turkey sandwich. That's it. I realize this was part of what I signed up for, but as the first major family holiday descends this week, I'm pretty bummed. But mixed into the bumminess is a very, very keen sense of appreciation. My, oh my, how I have taken my family for granted. One does not truly realize the joy of a close family until you miss a holiday. Missing this time with them makes getting to spend Christmas at home even more meaningful and special.
I'm so glad I am going home for the Christmas break, even if it's only for two weeks. Some of my co-workers are not returning to their homelands for the break, and while I don't pretend to know their reasons, I'd be willing to bet it has something to do with the exhausting practice of having a foot in two different worlds. Many of the expat lifers I have encountered don't travel home but once a year. I guess after a while, some folks eventually plant both their feet wherever they are. It certainly requires a good amount of mental toughness to stay straddled the way we are, keeping our lives going in our home country while living a life in another. In some ways it's a meditation, trying to keep yourself from being swept away by your new life and new experiences while still enjoying where you are. At the same time, it's an active practice, making a home for yourself in your new community while also making the efforts to keep the relationships back home strong and connected. I have to say that in this department, my friends and family have made all the difference- the letters, emails, chats, likes, Skypes and Facetimes have made the "active practice" part so much easier. Now that it's been four months, I feel like I survived the initial transition and have actually managed this expat double life thing reasonably well. I won't say I'm not nervous about how going home is going to screw with my adjustment to the expat life. It may be like when you finally get your first kid potty trained and then have another and the first wants to get back into diapers. I worry that coming back in January will put me right back to July. But well, as long as I don't forget all the Spanish I have learned, I think I can handle the post-vacation blues. I've got good friends, good family and will be filled to the brim with Trader Joes, Starbucks and Chic-Fil-A. And thanks to some expert hoard-shopping, I have enough milk to last me until March. So ya, with a little luck and a few well-directed prayers, I think I'll be alright.
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