Yes, it is 11 am in China. Yes, I am nursing my fourth beer. At 11 am. Yes, I am wondering how I could feel so happy and so sad at the same time. Yes, yes, yes, living in China is both the best and worst of times. I am submersed in new experiences daily. Anyone in their right mind would be thrilled. But the thrill of the new is constantly tempered by the longing for the familiar. And the new is all on the surface. Something deeper is needed. Where is the connection? Where is my anchor that will hold?
When I was a pre-teen my parents moved my older brother, Clay, and me to a private, Christian school. My oldest brother had proved a real challenge for the public school system, so much so that his councilor actually recommended letting him volunteer for the Navy. My parents cast about for a solution that would not end up in the same result for Clay and for me. So off to Westminster Christian Academy we went. Our exposure to Christianity had been minimal before then, and the Presbyterians of WCA were plenty Calvinistic and fundamental. Life was pre-destined. Good and evil were black and white.
We learned a song, "My Anchor Holds," and I remember loving it. I was absolutely obsessed with the idea that some things held no matter what. That God, or whatever, was eternal and unchanging. And the comfort of black and white was real. Shades of grey scared me. Something in my psyche needed to know that eternal truths existed, that one could fix oneself to a firm base. It didn't even matter what those eternal truths actually were or where the base was. In the shifting universe of pre-teen angst, anything that lasted beyond a week was a comfort.
But my fascination for the new, for any thing that I had never seen before, never died. And so, my life since has been a series of cycles. Clinging to the familiar, believing in the permanent, and then grasping for the new. Keeping an eye out for the eternal, while hoping to capture the fleeting moments of new beauty. To stare into the deep waters and see the permanent and the temporary swimming together. Looking for the anchor. Looking for the rare fish, too.
No luck just now. Today I have no anchor and, to be honest, I have no rare fish. (If 1.4 billion experience it daily, it ain't rare!) I only have a six-pack that promises to lighten the mood. Cheers.
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Comments
How is the Chinese beer?
Is there Santa Claus in China?
I miss my husband, who works all the damn time. I miss space. I miss sharing my feelings with someone speaks the same language. I miss passion. I don't like being 45 and boring and fat. I miss being young anywhere. I miss solving the world's problems over a bottle of wine and a crowded dinner table. I miss the adoration of the masses. Oh, wait, never had that. But still want it. WTF?!
Now, I can't type and it took a LOT of effort to (badly) retell this story, so you'd better take it in the spirit it is meant - teasingly! Who's picking up your daughters today?????
Hey, I think you are brave and wicked cool to take this on. I'm sure "the season" has a lot to do with your temporary melancholy too. Even we anchor-lesses are not immune to "the season" !
It's what, Friday noonish there? You'll have your hubby and girls around for the next 2 days?
You've got your girls to anchor you, evein if it is in a strange and farwayw place. Of course, you are raising them to be MAJOR adventurers, so maybe your anchor will shift ports often. That's it, a portable anchor!
This can be made with really cheap wine that comes in a carton. I don't know about Chinese wine, but I stick with Italian, avoiding cheap Russian, Ukrainian, Georgian, and Moldovan wines as well as any Bulgarian wine sold outside of Bulgaria (in Bulgaria, don't spend less than 2$/bottle).
If eggnog is your holiday brew, make that. If you are as far north as I am, you need to plan a vacation to see the sun before the end of the winter. And to take vitamin D pills.
You can make the Glugg with white wine if nothing else is around. (This expat made her glugg with white wine yesterday because she didn't have red and she was, for the THIRD day in a row, waiting for the experts to fix the heating system because it was in the 50s in the house and in the negative teens outside (fahrenheit).
Good luck.
And you know, when you travel from country to country, your anchor is your family and your traditions. Make sure you do something for Christmas. Make your cookies (or look up recipes that can be made with ingredients you find). Do something that replaces a tree (I got an IKEA pyramidal candle thing) or make your own.
Find some friends. Meet other wives at your husband's company. Look on line if there's an International Women's Club affiliate or an American Women's Organization. Ask your husband to find out about wives of expats he meets.
Even if there are no other expats who share your experience, there usually are women who are eager to meet foreigners and who will share childraising experiences with you.
I'm the expat wife of a workaholic, probably boring and could stand to lose some weight (which I deal with by eating). I feel for you. Ultimately, your happiness is what you make it and overseas you sometimes really have to work to make it, but there are ways to be happy.
I hope you find them.
Glugg recipe duly noted, however. Sounds perfect for the cold winter.