I know we all have different versions of ourselves. We have the version of lounging at home on the couch, we have our social selves and we have our work persona. But when it comes to speaking more than one language, I feel like I also have different identities.
Continue reading “My Many Identities: Speaking More Than One Language”
Here is the story of my first time at Disneyland, which was in Anaheim, California. You would have thought that for an 8 year old at the time, it was every kid’s dream to head to the land of Mickey. It was my nightmare. Continue reading “Scared of Mickey to Love for Disney”
If we were having coffee, I would ask you to come to my house. I would set out a table full of cookies (or biscuits as the English and French would say) and talk about how confusing the Paris weather has been. This morning it was raining and this afternoon it decided to be sunny and slightly warm. Continue reading “If We Were Having Coffee: Art, Presentation and Doubt”
I think there is a moment when living abroad that you begin to forget the distance between you and what used to be your old home. The old life is continuing without you, you are living life without it, and there comes a moment when you realize those two things are no longer connected. The only glue is the people you care about.
It starts with the little things, like the style of speaking, the style of clothing and those changes become bigger and bigger. One day you’re sitting in your apartment with a French acceptance letter into university, French books spilling from the walls, and you realize this is now your life. You are speaking a language that used to just be beautiful mumblings, you are making a life for you.
It hit me today while I was watching a soccer match with French people as they were yelling and cheering about their team scoring, and it reminded me of football season in America. But this was different. When I screw something up, or do something out of the cultural ordinary, I tend to say “well in America…” but then I wonder if it really is like that in America. Or is it me?
This is a rambling post, but it was an interesting feeling today. I felt far from my culture, the land that raised me, the people that made me, but I know that I will never be able to shake that off of me. It is who I am. I will never lose it. Though it feels far today, I can’t deny the feeling that everything that I am working for at the moment feels like what I need to be doing. I am proud of that.
If you are an expat, have you ever had a day like this?