Expat Notes

Common wisdom has it that there are three common stages for the common expatriate:

1)Exaltation -- Everything is new, fresh, and so exciting. You're living in what amounts to an entirely new world, and every day is an adventure. Heck, when I first came to Taiwan, every meal was an adventure -- what are these strange pieces of meat from god-knows-what part of the god-knows-what animal and these unfamiliar vegetables & fruits the street vendors keep hawking? This is the same kind of natural high that occurs to overseas tourists landed for a brief holiday. It usually lasts for several weeks, or even several months in certain cases; but unlike the tourists, you're not going back home after soaking in a few days' worth of cultural sightseeing --

2)Frustration -- Every high has to end sometime, and usually it comes down with a crash. What am I doing here instead of going back home where I belong? I miss my friends & family & cruising round my hometown & reading the local paper & sinking my teeth into a halfway decent juicy burger (anything but McDonalds, the only choice overseas!) & etc. etc. etc., click my ruby heels and take me back to Kansas, Toto. The people here are idiots living in a stinking backwards mismanaged & ignorant society who don't seem to know how to do anything right like good ol' Americans -- don't they know how much more convenient a fork is than these unweildy chopsticks? If I run into another short, thin slant-eyed person with straight black hair waving "Hello! How are you?" and giggling because they've just spotted that rare creature know as the foriegner and want to practice their bad highschool English....GET ME OUTTA HERE!

3)Acceptance -- Well, things aren't perfect here, but things aren't perfect anywhere, and by this stage you've learned to settle in and accept this society and your role here as it is. Basically it's an evening out of the first two stages, with the ups and downs of hate and love for your adopted home less extreme -- the conflicted feelings and homesickness never really go away (unless you've been here for a long, long time), but you start to feel like you're living a more or less normal life. It even begins to feel like home sometimes. You start to make a few friends among the locals, learn the language a bit (badly in my case, but I've only been here half a year), and adapt to the customs & social norms.

Going from the Occident to the Orient isn't always easy; as a Westerner, you will always be an outsider, a curious novelty in a society in which 99% of the population consists of one ethnically homogenous group. After a while you get used to the constant stares when you venture out into the street, the pointing and remarks behind your back as you pass by, the occasional child who shrieks in fright at her first sight of a white person (and luckily for me I'm not a black guy, who have it twice as bad in Asian society -- America may have its racial problems, but a venture to a few other corners of the globe will expose you to what REAL, SERIOUS racism is like). It can be very alienating. Sometimes it can be very tiring ("leave me alone! let me enjoy some anonymity for once!") being an exotic; but sometimes it can be quite exciting to be such a center of attention, with so many people getting excited when they see you, and wanting to pamper you like royalty.

Taiwan, unlike a lot of countries, is almost perversely friendly and open to foriegners -- xenophilia seems to be a much stronger force than xenophobia, at least on the surface. Every society is different in its treatment of foriegners, and while they may all look the same to us big-nosed Westerners, the Oriental societies are strikingly varied when you learn a bit about them. Korea, from what I've heard, is one of the most openly xenophobic societies on earth; the Japanese -- again second-hand information, since I've only talked to expats who've lived there, not been to either place myself (yet) -- aren't openly rude to foriegners like Koreans, but don't hide their superiority complex as Children of the Sun God. The Taiwanese, however, treat all foriegners like a guest -- making sure they are pleasant and hospitable to you (kick your shoes off, sit a spell), doing their best to make you feel welcome. But keep in mind that's all you'll ever be here -- a guest, never a member of the family or close friend. I don't intend on living here for more than a year or two; if I intended to stay longer, this might irk me more. But since my stay is only temporary, I don't mind having them pull out the welcome mat and letting me crash at their pad for a little while.

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