You
could translate Camus’ delightfully depressing novel the stranger or the
foreigner. I do
not intend to plunge into depression, but to talk about life as a foreigner
abroad.
The
first point is the misconception of believing that you know a place after
visiting it. As expats, we all know that the only way to truly speak about a
place is to live in it.
In
good old England, my first foreign country as an expat, I was told that we, the
French, were perceived as arrogant, weird and rude. I guess the history between
our countries has embedded those thoughts or simply, some arrogant weird and
rude French people have left a mark! (Remarkably enough, every visit in
Scotland has been most welcoming, from every person met! – history again).
The
English textbooks in France had depicted English people with the most elegant
“chapeau melon”, gentlemen and ladies walking in canes and speaking the Queen’s
English. As I sailed from Calais to Dover, I had it all worked out: England
would be a chic place, where my accent would forever disappear and I would
experience the culture.
It
didn’t quite happen. Some of the best memories after arriving in my new town
remain my first attempt at buying a bus ticket (using my best Queen’s accent
and vocabulary: “Good day Sir, I wish to purchase a bus ticket going to town
and returning”) or the first time someone told me about pigeonholes! I guess,
the purpose of this particular story is all about expectations. The expat life
is similar to riding the waves: there are downs, low ones, like realising the
textbook hasn’t been updated and things aren’t quite as you thought. A little
bit like the crystal seller in the alchemist; all his life he desired
travelling to Mecca but could never finance his trip. At last, with the
protagonist’s help, his dream is at reach and yet, he explains to Santiago that
he will not travel to Mecca, fearing that it wouldn’t transcend him as he had
hoped and would destroy his dream.
In
Turkey, as you walk around, you are labelled with the name “Yabanci”. Nothing
offensive, just foreigner! Turkey over exceeded my expectations and that was a
strong high point in my expat life.
In
Egypt, my expectations were low. Not because of the destination, but because of
the path; indeed, the more you travel, you learn adaptability and your
expectations lower, to let you embrace your new place. Cairo is what it is, and
despite the numerous recent polls on how horrible or nice it is to live here,
it really isn’t about the place so much, it is about the people.
I
find that international friendships bloom at a dazzling speed and strengthen
the same way. In England, Turkey and now Cairo, I have met wonderful people and
perhaps it is the context or the state of mind you are in as a foreigner, but
the intensity really changes to what it would be like at home. This applies for
locals or fellow expats, there is something to it.
Being
French, you get all sorts of international clichés: from arrogant, to forever
complaining or even strange, and the inevitable assumption that we all come
from Paris. The Egyptians people have a strong Francophone heritage; therefore,
even if as foreigners you HAVE to make the efforts and learn your host
country’s language, for the sake of politeness, it also doesn’t suffice at
times (That’s when you throw a French word and it happens to work quite
often!).
As
teachers, we also are role model, and as a Foreign teacher, you almost become
an ambassador. Therefore, consciously or unconsciously, whatever feelings you
generate will also impact on your homeland. I don’t know if I have made justice
to my country at all times, but I sure try and I feel that travelling has made
me even more chauvinistic than before. It isn’t due to the illusion that the
grass is always greener back home, but even though you do not live in the
country, doesn’t mean that you have given up your identity.
Travelling
to a new place abroad also provides you with an opportunity to start afresh,
without the burden of past events. Some people remain themselves; others
change, for the better or the worst. There are also the people who act abroad
as if it didn’t matter, since they are only passing through.
The
best example comes from Estonia, where stag parties are soiling the city
centers at the week end and where this wonderful, straight to the point sign,
was shot:
A
Romanian friend of mine once said that Egypt was the best expat experience and
I can see why. Perhaps it is a result of the political difficulties or simply
the people here, but there is a great community, that has accepted the expat
life in this climate and is making the most of it, the most I have ever seen
anywhere else so far.
Three
countries later, it is fair to say that the longer the path, it easier it gets!
Yet, it’s not all sparkly and positive, there are several downfalls to being an
expat, but let’s save those for another time!
