Probably everyone who has lived as an expat has experienced this: the days when one feels as though they are losing their mind, as though they have no home, as though there really is No One to talk to over tea and silly conversation, to be as sarcastic or as open as one can with ones few really good friends. The days when screaming loudly seems like the only option, except that you don’t want to be “THAT neighbor”, especially if there’s already a passionate couple screaming and waking people up at 2 or 3 in the morning, and at least they are screaming at each other and not just to vent the five million things zinging around in your head in two (or more) languages, none of which makes any sense.
and while the brain is doing this manic spinning and circling and smashing into neurological “bang-head-here” walls, the body is, somehow, exhausted, and everything is an almost impossible effort. Probably related, at least that’s what the Caustic One’s house doc seems to think.
In the world of work — brain work, anyway — it takes between six months and a year before a person begins to grasp their job responsibilities. A year before they can really call them their own and start to really be useful in a more-than-just-the-minimum-requirements sort of way. Six months to figure out what all the oddball personality types around are, and know for sure if the boss/es are asses or ok, depending on their ability to bullshit around the new people. Occasionally a really horrible boss comes along and that takes far less time to figure out, but generally, in the average working environment where people are all trying to do their best, with only normal ego and group dynamics, six months to settle into a wary circle of workers, a year to “click” and begin to be a real team.
In the world of academics, in the US there is a chance that this means a real team will be there for a while, since PhDs take so damn long there. In Germany, it’s three years. So each person is about halfway through before they are really useful and improving processes, so teams are highly dynamic and never really fall into a real team.
On the personal side, it probably takes between six months and a year to find people that qualify as more than “Bekannter” — or, acquaintances/colleagues. A real extrovert can probably do it much more quickly, and a true introvert much more slowly. When the Caustic One moved to Long Island, it took her four YEARS to make friends, and after being there for over a decade, she has less than ten “friends”, only five of which she was able to spend any non-trivial physical time with at any frequency, due to the Long Island Busy Frenzy. This makes it pretty difficult to actually develop a true and lasting deep relationship with anyone. What is even more interesting is the difference between what a person considers as friendship in Long Island compared to somewhere a little less insane, like Wisconsin. While I may be very fond of a person and enjoy spending time with them, that really doesn’t make them a “friend”. Friendship is built on the same sort of pain that a partnership/marriage is built on — at some point, it stops being just fun and lazy; at some point one pisses the other one off and both parties have to decide if it is worth continuing the relationship.
Anyway, add this whole dimensional thing to being in a foreign country. No matter what anyone tries to tell you, you don’t get it till you live it. While one might become fluent in a language while not in a country that speaks that language, and one might be able to pick up the cultural and social differences that language often offers clues into, until one actually is living in the situation, it isn’t real. It’s a theoretical exercise — kind of like getting a Marquette University Engineering Degree or a Milwaukee School of Engineering Degree. Kind of like taking about death and actually dying. Actually, there might be an argument to be made that living in another country is sort of like dying! That could be a whole blog post there so I’m going to leave it alone for now.
Back to insanity and alone-ness and friendship, etc. The introvert in another country, who speaks the language badly but who is not too bad at charades, who is also older and not really into spending her free time with people that might fine individuals but are just, well, young, faces a challenge. Funny how we become our parents at some point; interesting how, with age, we prefer our free time to be comfortable, emotionally uplifting, mentally stimulating or rejuvenating, free from a plethora of negatives, free from the type of competitive attitude that seems to characterize many young, intelligent people. In short — it just doesn’t work for the Caustic one to hang out with colleagues that are her children’s age in her non working time. So what’s an old, caustic introvert to do?
Join the choir. Or two choirs.
Hang out at the cafe across the street run by an older gentleman and frequented by people of all ages.
Take a book and some crocheting.
It seems to be working, after nine months in this little University village. The Caustic One has finally found a few people (various ages, but the right kind of personalities) that have some common interests. Her dance card is filling up with interesting conversation, broken though it may be, and lovely personalities. She is learning about the culture on a personal level, and appreciating what people’s challenges are – earlier, there really was no way to know.
Along with this improvement, somehow, now the mood is better… the inner brain screaming is slowing down, the loneliness is not so intense, and an almost impossibly good mood has settled in, one which overtakes some of the frustrating moments of idiocy that is part of life. It’s grand to be feeling more like Herself!
The turning point, I would say, to the beginning of understanding and finding a place in this culture, this experience, this adventure.