SUE BRATTLE
THERE’S a strange thing about being an expat; it creeps up on you. When Colin and I moved abroad, we thought of it as an adventure. We travelled light, one large suitcase each, and packed up our house as though we would be back soon.
I can still conjure up the feeling of locking our front door as we left for the airport on March 8, 2007, heading for new jobs in Dubai.
Thirteen years later, we’ve lived and worked in three countries and had stints in four others – one for work, the other three in a gap year. Our house has had a mixed bag of tenants over the years (of which more in a separate blog). While we’ve gradually become expats, so our home has slowly changed into an investment. Once decorated throughout in carefully chosen colours and styles, it’s now a magnolia-painted and neutral backdrop for whatever the latest tenant wants to do with it.
When we left home, we were considered a bit unusual. Once you live abroad, you realize there are thousands of expats of all nationalities living in every country in the world. The only difference with us was our age; we were already in our fifties when we set off, and both left good jobs to go and see the world. Looking back down the 12 years of experiences, I really can’t remember some of the detail of our old lives and wouldn’t have missed most of what’s happened and the huge variety of people we have met and worked with.
But it has left us in an odd position. We have become voluntarily displaced and just how displaced grows with each visit “home”.
The first few trips back to the UK were spent in a whirlwind of activity, from Scotland to see Colin’s family, down to England to see mine, fitting in with everyone’s diary, repeating what became a mantra about what life was like in Dubai. It dawned on me that it was no more interesting to anyone than their blow-by-blow accounts of their latest fortnight in Spain or the Canaries.
If that sounds harsh, it’s because I had to learn that most people at home thought we were on a long holiday. The fact that we got up for work five days a week, had housing and rent issues, had overcome the death race that passes for driving in the Emirates, and were carving a life for ourselves went over most people’s heads.
After a few years of going back to Dubai exhausted by our trips home, we organised them as proper holidays for us with visits to family and friends tacked on. By now we looked subtly different from everyone else; we had the natural tan that comes from living in a hot country, and were better-groomed since such luxuries as manicures and pedicures were dirt cheap in the brilliant backstreet beauty salons near our Dubai apartment. I also referred to Dubai as “home”, which shocked several of my friends as much as it surprised me.
When we went for a drink in our village in Kent, the barman said to us: “I haven’t seen you two for a while.” “Three years, actually,” I answered, “we live in Dubai now.”
The displacement grew.
Some expats view working abroad as a “posting”, taking leave rather than holidays and disappearing for months on end as they open up their home for summer and Christmas. In fact, while we were in Dubai it was still considered a “hardship posting” by some US companies. Our experience has never been like that; in Dubai, China and Hong Kong we’ve mostly had jobs with locally based companies, and have downsized without really thinking about it.
Our gap year was a treat to ourselves after six years working in Dubai. We spent three months each in California, the Seychelles, and France, and then went home to our house. We immediately slipped back into homeowner mode, painting, gardening, cleaning, and fussing. I think we were both relieved when it was time to move on, and being in England seemed as foreign to me as any of the countries we lived in.
Since that salutary lesson we have lived in China and are now in Hong Kong. We have passed the dangerous 10-year expat anniversary, which experts say is the time when you no longer belong in your home country.
Our displacement is complete.
In fact, I only feel homesick when I’m in England. I get a sharp intake of breath sometimes when I’m in the Kent countryside where I grew up and realize the gap between those years and the way I live my life now. The great-niece who was born just after we left the UK will soon be a teenager, and when I couldn’t work out how to pay my bus fare in London recently, the driver let me ride free when he realized I was a hapless tourist.
Whether I will ever feel comfortable being an expat is another question entirely. I don’t like hearing Brits criticise their home country and I don’t like the chancers who fake their way into jobs way above anything they could achieve in the UK. I don’t like the type who compares every single thing with how it’s done “back home”, or the type that disrespects the country where they are temporarily living and working.
Displacement is complicated.
Top photo: The white cliffs of Dover in Kent.
April 2019
RELATED
TROUBLED TIMES FOR EXPATS: Moving abroad can seem an idyllic prospect, but what happens when sudden upheavals or the inescapable realities of life intrude? READ MORE
CARS: Cars are a big deal for some expats. Here’s what we’ve learned about them in our years living abroad – including where you need one, and where you don’t. READ MORE
HOME THOUGHTS: Leaving home to live and work abroad is exciting, but years later you find yourself wondering exactly where is home. READ MORE
RECOMMENDED
WELCOME TO OUR WORLD! Afaranwide’s home page – this is where you can find out about our latest posts and other highlights. READ MORE
TOP 10 VIRTUAL ATTRACTIONS: Many of the world’s most popular tourists sites are closed because of the coronavirus crisis, but you can still visit them virtually while you’re self-isolating. READ MORE
SHIMLA, QUEEN OF THE HILLS: Government officials once retreated to Shimla in the foothills of the Himalayas to escape India’s blazing hot summers. Now tourists make the same journey. READ MORE
TEN THINGS WE LEARNED: Our up-to-the-minute guide to creating a website, one step at a time. The costs, the mistakes – it’s what we wish we’d known when we started blogging. READ MORE
TROUBLED TIMES FOR EXPATS: Moving abroad can seem an idyllic prospect, but what happens when sudden upheavals or the inescapable realities of life intrude? READ MORE
LET'S KEEP IN TOUCH!
SUE BRATTLE
THERE’S a strange thing about being an expat; it creeps up on you. When Colin and I moved abroad, we thought of it as an adventure. We travelled light, one large suitcase each, and packed up our house as though we would be back soon.
I can still conjure up the feeling of locking our front door as we left for the airport on March 8, 2007, heading for new jobs in Dubai.
Thirteen years later, we’ve lived and worked in three countries and had stints in four others – one for work, the other three in a gap year. Our house has had a mixed bag of tenants over the years (of which more in a separate blog). While we’ve gradually become expats, so our home has slowly changed into an investment. Once decorated throughout in carefully chosen colours and styles, it’s now a magnolia-painted and neutral backdrop for whatever the latest tenant wants to do with it.
When we left home, we were considered a bit unusual. Once you live abroad, you realize there are thousands of expats of all nationalities living in every country in the world. The only difference with us was our age; we were already in our fifties when we set off, and both left good jobs to go and see the world. Looking back down the 12 years of experiences, I really can’t remember some of the detail of our old lives and wouldn’t have missed most of what’s happened and the huge variety of people we have met and worked with.
But it has left us in an odd position. We have become voluntarily displaced and just how displaced grows with each visit “home”.
The first few trips back to the UK were spent in a whirlwind of activity, from Scotland to see Colin’s family, down to England to see mine, fitting in with everyone’s diary, repeating what became a mantra about what life was like in Dubai. It dawned on me that it was no more interesting to anyone than their blow-by-blow accounts of their latest fortnight in Spain or the Canaries.
If that sounds harsh, it’s because I had to learn that most people at home thought we were on a long holiday. The fact that we got up for work five days a week, had housing and rent issues, had overcome the death race that passes for driving in the Emirates, and were carving a life for ourselves went over most people’s heads.
After a few years of going back to Dubai exhausted by our trips home, we organised them as proper holidays for us with visits to family and friends tacked on. By now we looked subtly different from everyone else; we had the natural tan that comes from living in a hot country, and were better-groomed since such luxuries as manicures and pedicures were dirt cheap in the brilliant backstreet beauty salons near our Dubai apartment. I also referred to Dubai as “home”, which shocked several of my friends as much as it surprised me.
When we went for a drink in our village in Kent, the barman said to us: “I haven’t seen you two for a while.” “Three years, actually,” I answered, “we live in Dubai now.”
The displacement grew.
Some expats view working abroad as a “posting”, taking leave rather than holidays and disappearing for months on end as they open up their home for summer and Christmas. In fact, while we were in Dubai it was still considered a “hardship posting” by some US companies. Our experience has never been like that; in Dubai, China and Hong Kong we’ve mostly had jobs with locally based companies, and have downsized without really thinking about it.
Our gap year was a treat to ourselves after six years working in Dubai. We spent three months each in California, the Seychelles, and France, and then went home to our house. We immediately slipped back into homeowner mode, painting, gardening, cleaning, and fussing. I think we were both relieved when it was time to move on, and being in England seemed as foreign to me as any of the countries we lived in.
Since that salutary lesson we have lived in China and are now in Hong Kong. We have passed the dangerous 10-year expat anniversary, which experts say is the time when you no longer belong in your home country.
Our displacement is complete.
In fact, I only feel homesick when I’m in England. I get a sharp intake of breath sometimes when I’m in the Kent countryside where I grew up and realize the gap between those years and the way I live my life now. The great-niece who was born just after we left the UK will soon be a teenager, and when I couldn’t work out how to pay my bus fare in London recently, the driver let me ride free when he realized I was a hapless tourist.
Whether I will ever feel comfortable being an expat is another question entirely. I don’t like hearing Brits criticise their home country and I don’t like the chancers who fake their way into jobs way above anything they could achieve in the UK. I don’t like the type who compares every single thing with how it’s done “back home”, or the type that disrespects the country where they are temporarily living and working.
Displacement is complicated.
Top photo: The white cliffs of Dover in Kent.
April 2019
RELATED
TROUBLED TIMES FOR EXPATS: Moving abroad can seem an idyllic prospect, but what happens when sudden upheavals or the inescapable realities of life intrude? READ MORE
CARS: Cars are a big deal for some expats. Here’s what we’ve learned about them in our years living abroad – including where you need one, and where you don’t. READ MORE
HOME THOUGHTS: Leaving home to live and work abroad is exciting, but years later you find yourself wondering exactly where is home. READ MORE
RECOMMENDED
WELCOME TO OUR WORLD! Afaranwide’s home page – this is where you can find out about our latest posts and other highlights. READ MORE
TOP 10 VIRTUAL ATTRACTIONS: Many of the world’s most popular tourists sites are closed because of the coronavirus crisis, but you can still visit them virtually while you’re self-isolating. READ MORE
SHIMLA, QUEEN OF THE HILLS: Government officials once retreated to Shimla in the foothills of the Himalayas to escape India’s blazing hot summers. Now tourists make the same journey. READ MORE
TEN THINGS WE LEARNED: Our up-to-the-minute guide to creating a website, one step at a time. The costs, the mistakes – it’s what we wish we’d known when we started blogging. READ MORE
TROUBLED TIMES FOR EXPATS: Moving abroad can seem an idyllic prospect, but what happens when sudden upheavals or the inescapable realities of life intrude? READ MORE
LET'S KEEP IN TOUCH!
Trips Home
When Your Own Country Becomes Somewhere You Go On Holiday
SUE BRATTLE
THERE’S a strange thing about being an expat; it creeps up on you. When Colin and I moved abroad, we thought of it as an adventure. We travelled light, one large suitcase each, and packed up our house as though we would be back soon.
I can still conjure up the feeling of locking our front door as we left for the airport on March 8, 2007, heading for new jobs in Dubai.
Thirteen years later, we’ve lived and worked in three countries and had stints in four others – one for work, the other three in a gap year. Our house has had a mixed bag of tenants over the years (of which more in a separate blog). While we’ve gradually become expats, so our home has slowly changed into an investment. Once decorated throughout in carefully chosen colours and styles, it’s now a magnolia-painted and neutral backdrop for whatever the latest tenant wants to do with it.
When we left home, we were considered a bit unusual. Once you live abroad, you realize there are thousands of expats of all nationalities living in every country in the world. The only difference with us was our age; we were already in our fifties when we set off, and both left good jobs to go and see the world. Looking back down the 12 years of experiences, I really can’t remember some of the detail of our old lives and wouldn’t have missed most of what’s happened and the huge variety of people we have met and worked with.
But it has left us in an odd position. We have become voluntarily displaced and just how displaced grows with each visit “home”.
The first few trips back to the UK were spent in a whirlwind of activity, from Scotland to see Colin’s family, down to England to see mine, fitting in with everyone’s diary, repeating what became a mantra about what life was like in Dubai. It dawned on me that it was no more interesting to anyone than their blow-by-blow accounts of their latest fortnight in Spain or the Canaries.
If that sounds harsh, it’s because I had to learn that most people at home thought we were on a long holiday. The fact that we got up for work five days a week, had housing and rent issues, had overcome the death race that passes for driving in the Emirates, and were carving a life for ourselves went over most people’s heads.
After a few years of going back to Dubai exhausted by our trips home, we organised them as proper holidays for us with visits to family and friends tacked on. By now we looked subtly different from everyone else; we had the natural tan that comes from living in a hot country, and were better-groomed since such luxuries as manicures and pedicures were dirt cheap in the brilliant backstreet beauty salons near our Dubai apartment. I also referred to Dubai as “home”, which shocked several of my friends as much as it surprised me.
When we went for a drink in our village in Kent, the barman said to us: “I haven’t seen you two for a while.” “Three years, actually,” I answered, “we live in Dubai now.”
The displacement grew.
Some expats view working abroad as a “posting”, taking leave rather than holidays and disappearing for months on end as they open up their home for summer and Christmas. In fact, while we were in Dubai it was still considered a “hardship posting” by some US companies. Our experience has never been like that; in Dubai, China and Hong Kong we’ve mostly had jobs with locally based companies, and have downsized without really thinking about it.
Our gap year was a treat to ourselves after six years working in Dubai. We spent three months each in California, the Seychelles, and France, and then went home to our house. We immediately slipped back into homeowner mode, painting, gardening, cleaning, and fussing. I think we were both relieved when it was time to move on, and being in England seemed as foreign to me as any of the countries we lived in.
Since that salutary lesson we have lived in China and are now in Hong Kong. We have passed the dangerous 10-year expat anniversary, which experts say is the time when you no longer belong in your home country.
Our displacement is complete.
In fact, I only feel homesick when I’m in England. I get a sharp intake of breath sometimes when I’m in the Kent countryside where I grew up and realize the gap between those years and the way I live my life now. The great-niece who was born just after we left the UK will soon be a teenager, and when I couldn’t work out how to pay my bus fare in London recently, the driver let me ride free when he realized I was a hapless tourist.
Whether I will ever feel comfortable being an expat is another question entirely. I don’t like hearing Brits criticise their home country and I don’t like the chancers who fake their way into jobs way above anything they could achieve in the UK. I don’t like the type who compares every single thing with how it’s done “back home”, or the type that disrespects the country where they are temporarily living and working.
Displacement is complicated.
Top photo: The white cliffs of Dover in Kent.
April 2019
RELATED
TROUBLED TIMES FOR EXPATS: Moving abroad can seem an idyllic prospect, but what happens when sudden upheavals or the inescapable realities of life intrude? READ MORE
CARS: Cars are a big deal for some expats. Here’s what we’ve learned about them in our years living abroad – including where you need one, and where you don’t. READ MORE
HOME THOUGHTS: Leaving home to live and work abroad is exciting, but years later you find yourself wondering exactly where is home. READ MORE
RECOMMENDED
WELCOME TO OUR WORLD! Afaranwide’s home page – this is where you can find out about our latest posts and other highlights. READ MORE
TOP 10 VIRTUAL ATTRACTIONS: Many of the world’s most popular tourists sites are closed because of the coronavirus crisis, but you can still visit them virtually while you’re self-isolating. READ MORE
SHIMLA, QUEEN OF THE HILLS: Government officials once retreated to Shimla in the foothills of the Himalayas to escape India’s blazing hot summers. Now tourists make the same journey. READ MORE
TEN THINGS WE LEARNED: Our up-to-the-minute guide to creating a website, one step at a time. The costs, the mistakes – it’s what we wish we’d known when we started blogging. READ MORE
TROUBLED TIMES FOR EXPATS: Moving abroad can seem an idyllic prospect, but what happens when sudden upheavals or the inescapable realities of life intrude? READ MORE