Temporary TCKid Home

The whole world is full of migrants. And everyone has these problems of migration:
culture shock– because you leave habits at home, and suddenly recognize what a habit is–

and the effort you have to make to create new habits which is exhausting and freeing at the same time—- because you can get rid of bad habits— everyone who makes an effort gets lot’s back: not only moneywise;) ,

bodywise, as well—. So keep healthy in doing sports: good habit, and think positivly: good habit;

and do not cry or moarn: bad habit which can stagnate development.–

To introduce yourself is new: everyone knew you where you are from. What is introducing, at all?!?

To be the foreigner is difficult, but it was not perfect at home, too. So try to establish new contacts which are good. Prove every day that you are trustworthy: moneywise. You only have one life. So at least, the time you are spending here, shall be as good as possible…….

 

forget “time”: your body has got one time. He grows perfectly like everyone elses though if in different places.

To encounter differences is enriching: like a star, everyone looks
at, I had to learn to let people look at me as a stranger: to sell it. Do sell it: make
yourself a brand.

ATCK know what this effort means from little on, may
be, they cope better with it than people that move as an adult, there are lots
of them, too, who did not fit in their city and left it to find answers as an adult. Adult learn 

less quick.

So take good care of people that move as an adult: they do it much worse. We are better in it. We learnt it from little on. It is an advantage. Sell your advantage. May be not. It is another state, we saw more. We are not better in it. Sounds good, doesn’t it?

I figured out, that home has got to do with money. Some say, it is more to it, but not for me. Sex has got nothing to do with money. It is a desire and not a working force or psychology. 

A home is called a private household in economical terms and private households are the biggest power companies have: we work. The owner of the company, too. He has got a private household himself. It is always two companies we have to do at different times. As long as there are no conflicts, people work under different laws of nature-geography/production-culture.

 

Culture is just production: and every country produces chairs, food, beds, houses: there is hardly any differences between cultures!

I never change wherever I go, I am the same. But the laws around me change. Not really me.

I am me and I stay me with my own laws. And I feel
lonely and I will stay lonely. And I do not mind anymore, because this is the
truth, the truth of me and my body. A pychology says, if you manage to be happy alone, you will succeed in enjoying people, too. Stay alone for a while. Do not make friends just for having friends, because it is the way it should be. Think again what you really need. This is a great wisdom and that is why ATCKs are so strong: they come to realize the beauty of loneliness. Travel is a virtue/goodness. Be glad being good. And glad being egoistic. Adam Smith, 1723*, a scientist of economy wrote that egoism is good for others, too.

I love psychology. I started to collect
little dictionaries from every country: to get into different psychologies is a soft skill, I suppose. Mentality is psychology. Wrote everything down. Will sell it. As a sculptor working in Hamburg,
Germany. Welcome.

homepage with drawings, paintings and sculptures:

www.flickr.com/silja_nathe

For the longest time I feel like I haven’t belonged to anywhere or anyone, but recently I’ve realized that with every passing New Year I am learning something new.  Every year I grow a little more.  Everything takes time of course and it seems fitting that finally at the age of 19 and fresh in 2011 I finally understand.

 

Home is what you make of it, every place I have lived in, grown in and breathed in has affected me.  I want to take all these memories and lessons with me into 2011 and find my own home where I can feel welcome.

Back home, Back in Germany.

Its so funny how we all find so many more places we call ‘Home’ and yet can get so sentimental

when someone talks about a constant home!?

I grew up in the Philippines and in my first five years travelled a whole lot, and as they say the first five years of a child (even while being in the Moms belly) are a great effect on the childs inner soul.

 

That is how it is, i am 20 now and after having my heights and lows on being a cross culture kid i discovered that at one point i hated the Philippine culture, i called my self superior over the ‘ureinwohner’ but after a while i began to love the philippines. I came there since i was 1 years old. So actually it really is home.

 

Anyways the idea and the question on my mind is that after discovering how much i liked my home there, now in Germany i (which is grand here as well) i wonder why the sadness often or rather the tears, the ditachment and the everyday of accepting of difference is there.

 

Will we be healed one day? What shall we do, give our selves time to grief? Is that the idea?

I wish you all the best and hope you have a great Christmas, how ever it might be 🙂

 

I tried to copy-paste what I wrote, but it was too long…I’ll just lazily put direct link to my blog 🙂

 

http://kumasim.wordpress.com/2010/12/28/parallel-conversation/

Lately I’ve been hearing a lot of talk about missing people. I guess it has to do with the season. Its made me think again about missing people. I don’t know why and I don’t understand it but I don’t miss people. I don’t miss people. I used to miss my family all the time as a child. I remember crying myself to sleep in Iceland missing my grandparents and then in converse I would cry myself to sleep when I was in France missing my parents. I’ve spent my entire life (save one Christmas when we were all together) away from someone I love. This is not something I’m bitter about, just a reality I’ve lived with for 26 years. I don’t know anything different. And now that I live in Greece I’m away from my entire family and friends all the time. Also working with the organization I work with I’ve seen a lot of people come and go. Some I have come to love and others whom I’ve merely enjoyed their company, but everybody eventually leaves… or I leave. As a result of this knowledge I don’t invest myself fully in the people who are around me making the separation easier. I think this is a TCK trait. I’ve heard other TCKs say that. I’ll be open and cheerful to everybody and I love people easily but I don’t allow the roots to go too deep. Maybe it’s not real love then? I don’t know. Yet I would do anything for a friend in need.

All I know is that I live in the moment. I cherish my past and look forward to the future when I can be reunited with friends and family. To love, speak and cry together once again. Leaving was easy when I was younger as I knew I’d be back soon but now it has become a difficult thing for me as I never know when I’ll be back to a specific place. Also a reality I face every time I leave is the question of whether or not this is the last time I see a person. Especially for my family as they are not believers. That reality scares me more than anything. When I leave believers I have no doubt that I’ll see them again and take solace that we’ll have all eternity together. But when I leave a place I’ll experience excruciating pain and cry a while but then it’s over and I go back to the phone. I take comfort and solace in a digital image and VoIP. And then it’s all about the moment again. What I’m doing now. Yesterday was wonderful, today is amazing and I never know what tomorrow will hold.

I’ll have nostalgic moments like everybody else but they are only fleeting moments. If I want to talk to somebody I know I can always pick up the phone and call. Facebook and Skype have made it easy. If I think of someone I go to their facebook page and drop them a quick line. Or I use skype to call. The internet has made the world even smaller than before… something I’m infinitely thankful for.

Please whoever you are friend, know that I love you. This does not mean that our friendship is any less real or deep. It just means I have a coping mechanism that is different from yours. If I allowed myself to miss anybody I would have to miss everybody and I don’t know if I could cope with that.

Wrote this when I was about 13. Thought I’d post it 🙂

Another Arabian Night

My bike skidded to a stop on the hot asphalt, flinging rocks through the air. I climbed off and passed quietly through the wooden gate. The tangy scent of the salty Persian Gulf greeted my nostrils. Laying my flip flops under the palm tree, I trudged though the soft, warm sand to the monkey bars. Swinging myself on top of them easily, my blue jean shorts allowing freedom to move, I took my usual seat right in the center. Sitting with my back to the compound, my new and yet old home, I faced the six foot barrier of cement that encompassed it. I dusted the gritty sand off my feet and gazed out over the wall.

The view was even more breathtaking than usual. The cerulean tide rushing in toward me, everything bathed in a rosy glow, lights beginning to awaken across the water, twinkling, from the fatiguing spell that the especially hot Middle Eastern heat had draped over it. An orange glowing sphere of fire levitated in the sky to my right, slowly being pulled beneath the sparkling sea, leaving wisps of lavender, pink and gold in its wake. A hot breeze began stirring the thick, humid air, picking up the sand beneath my feet, swirling it about.

I watched as it danced around, the rustling palm fronds providing the music, my memories providing a partner to waltz with. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Ghosts of my past came rushing back at me everywhere I looked; the swing set, the slide, the swinging bridge, especially here on the monkey bars. Vague pictures of friends laughing and telling jokes in time of happiness; crying and comforting each other in times of sadness. Conquering fears, trying out new lip gloss ( the guys were reluctant participators in that one), falling apart and finding hope. The good, the bad, the mundane, it all happened right here. In this tiny, abandoned park at the back of the compound. Being ‘Westerners’ in a foreign place like Saudi Arabia really bound us together, made us a family of sorts. It didn’t matter where we came from, what our race or gender was, how old we were, whether we were short, tall, fat, skinny, popular or not, we were family. We were all here together, all here for each other. People came and went and came back again; new friends were made, and always old ones had a special place at the table, but The Family remained.

The five o’clock prayer call suddenly sounded. How appropriate; this place was as sacred as any religious building to me. A man began chanting in Arabic over the loudspeaker. Even across the water I could hear him. You’d have to be deaf not to. I smiled, shaking off my silent reminiscences, remembering I had to get home for dinner. Sighing, I stole one last glance over the wall, bidding goodbye to another beautiful Arabian night.

Nights blessed mantle lies heavy on dawns strings
ruptures of light bleed through the palette creating ribbons
taut ribbons like angelic trails lifted from fairy tales
deep water curls between trees like damp smoke
rising in slow motion as morning begins its dance
leaves lifted to movement by unheard melodies
flowers open to witness the sun
the delicate roaming breeze picks its path and departs

we wander into the gold morning
following the tame spills of the river
out beyond the forests and valleys
far out onto the stretches of sand
where the mighty waves crash
on the shores of our abandon.

Life was a continuous struggle of finding a ‘place of peace’ where I did not have to feel sorry about myself. If there is anything remarkable about my life so far, let it be my cross-cultural experiences between China, Japan and Australia; but it is only recent that I genuinely become aware of its significance. Until then, I felt sorry about myself for not being able to convince everyone, including myself, who I was and where I came from.

Luckily in 2010, the construction of ‘place of peace’ reached at an unprecedented turnabout. Against all odds, it was underpinned by a word as short as three letters, and it was TCK. The rewards of learning about TCK exceed more than just identifying myself with its definition, since I have never dreamed about having a period (.) at the end of whatever defines who I am. It was liberating.

I used to wince every time I was asked, “Where are you from?” since I never felt my identity was owned by a physical place. I could provide facts, as many and accurate as I can remember, but unfortunately, facts would never set me free. Passport, country of birth, language etc… Neither single nor sum of these facts is adequate enough to frame myself. Besides, anyone can brandish and use the facts against me. Some people used to accuse me of not being truthful to what they thought who I was. The more facts I owned, the further I was fragmented; emotional harakiri!

However, now I know, there are both word and the world that validates my experiences. It also reminds me of how much I have, even after integrating it with shame, failure and bitterness.

I love talking about where I am from, every time I talk, I feel like I am set free.

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http://heyitsjohnnyc.wordpress.com/2010/09/29/the-difference-between-traveling-and-living-in-other-countries/