Travel – Page 3

[Five Minute Friday] Same

Last week I was in Lisbon.
We walked up the old cobblestone streets and marvelled at the view over this old and colorful city. We enjoyed good food and great company. We explored a bit more of Lisbon’s rich history.

One day we spent at a monastery and its church.
As I was sitting in a bench enjoying the quiet peaceful atmosphere I noticed a girl. She walked through the room quite fast, her view fixed forward.
In her hand she held a phone which she pointed at the statues and the decor around her. The red ‘record’ button shone brightly in the dimly light nave.
She was there, in this beautiful old building, but yet she wasn’t.
She looked at architecture and painted windows, and yet she didn’t.
She rushed by as if everything was the same.
Instead of taking in the details, instead of collecting impressions she collected a quick recording, a mere snapshot on a phone which will never, ever match reality.

As I saw this girl racing by with her phone on record and no time to take in the real beauty in front of her, I had to think.
Don’t we sometimes have the same attitude?
We visit a new city and try to document as much as possible.
Every meal, every moment of happiness must be instagrammed before we might enjoy it.
We meet up with friends for coffee, but often we’re both on a run, so fellowship better happen fast.
We gather for church on Sundays, but the service can’t take more than two hours because everyone wants to get home for lunch on time.
We are here, in this life, and yet we are not. We rush by as if everything was the same.

Let’s break out of this ‘same’ box.
Let’s step down from the treadmill this life often has us on and actually…live.
Let’s not put an end to a coffee date, just enjoy the time you have. Focus on the details, discover that your friend will never be the same like someone else.
Let’s travel and not be rushed. Cross off a few sights on your list and rather watch a city’s people. Learn a building’s history and take in the beauty which is often hidden in small things. Decide to not take pictures with your camera, but with your heart.
Let’s enjoy Sundays again and experience what happens when we truly wait for the Lord.
Let’s be here.
Let’s collect moments, not things.

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Linking up with Five Minute Friday today.

This Little Storybook that Holds My World

My passport expired a few months ago, and since I’m about to go traveling again I needed to get a new one. When the lady at city hall asked for my old passport I was startled. Did she want to take it away?
It left me wondering, Why do I care so much about this little booklet?

Among TCKs there’s a joke that the most valuable book you’ll ever possess is your passport.
This little booklet tells stories.
Stories of travels to foreign countries.
Stories of adventures in unknown cultures.
Memories of people, smells, and food so different from who you are.

Like the story when we were stuck at the airport in Entebbe/Uganda for hours because the officer wouldn’t accept our residence permits. We didn’t want to pay the customary “fee” (we would call it a bribe), so he made us wait in this unknown country. Our work and lives for the next two years would depend on this little piece of paper. When he finally let us go after lots of questions, it felt like a relief and the stamp of entry like a triumph.

Like the story when we traveled to Tanzania, a 10-12 hour bus ride. Crossing the border was a matter of hours again because the border patrol enjoyed talking to the only Mzungus (white people) on the bus in the middle of African bush land. Only when they were sure my dad was Jesus (because of his beard and longish hair), they let us pass, and we had a new stamp in our passports to remember this trip.

These stamps are not just stamps on a piece of paper.
They serve as a conduit to our memories.
Images of sun-drazed hills, humble yet elegant and amazingly friendly people, and the most
breath-taking sunsets come to mind when I flip through the pages of this little booklet.

Many pages are filled with visas, but in between there are also a few surprises. Like the entry stamp of Abu Dhabi I had not intended to get.
My flight to Johannesburg, South Africa was delayed, so I had an extra night to spend in this desert metropole. At immigration I was searched by a completely covered-up woman, which felt intimidating since she asked me to take off my clothes. As soon as I left the nicely cooled airport a heat wave hit me and made my clothes stick to my body. The cab passed by simple white houses in the desert, the skyscrapers downtown looming in the background. I was taken to a hotel which could’ve easily been the scene of a Persian fairytale and met some friendly fellow travelers.
The Arab letters in my passport remind me of my first encounter with the Oriental culture, even though it was just a peek.

To get a visa or entry stamp from the US is quite a journey which starts a few months before actual departure, when you go to the embassy, wait a few hours, and endure security protocol. Just to get a five minute interview in which you state that you definitely don’t want to emigrate to the US or have a secret fiancé there. The long line at the airport and a suspiciously looking border patrol officer in Charlotte, NC almost seemed like a piece of cake afterwards.

Passports tell stories.
Our stories.
Just like photo albums they take us back to adventures and memories of the past.
An invaluable treasure you don’t want to give up.

And yet, I guess that many TCKs might agree that their passports can be a burden for them sometimes.
This little booklet doesn’t just tell what you experienced, but also who you are.
Your place of birth, your family name, your nationality.
You’re a citizen of country x. You belong to the people of y.

But what if I don’t feel like it?
What if my heart doesn’t match what it says on that paper?
What if my soul is lost in the beauty of Africa, the hospitality and openness of people with a different skin color?
The allegiance of my heart cannot be described by one single country code.
I am German and yet I’m not. I feel African, but so many things drive me crazy about it.
I’m a mix of everything, which sometimes feels like nothing.
My passport reminds me of this cultural conflict I find myself in, this search for a sense of belonging, a sense of myself, a home.

After a bit of paperwork the lady at city hall handed me back my passport.
With “expired” written across the page in bold letters.
Even though my old passport has expired, my stories are not.
Because I’m still here to treasure and tell them.

A few weeks later I got my new passport – many more pages to fill with new experiences.
New memories.
New stories.

[31 Days] Day 28 Expect

It’s Day 28 of the 31 Days in the Life of a TCK series! Welcome! You can find more info on the series here. Don’t forget to subscribe!

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I came home from a year in South Africa being in love with the country and its people. The goodbye was incredibly hard and the re-entry to Germany was, too.

I settled back into life, began university, started making new friends.

But this deep longing and feeling of homesickness were my constant companion.

A few months later I had my debrief with the mission agency and they told me that for various reasons I would have the chance to go back for a short time. What a game changer! The summer semester couldn’t go by faster as my eyes and heart were set on July 29th, departure for my second home South Africa.

A week before I left I had dinner with a few friends; we sat outside in the summer night and talked about my trip. And then one friend asked:

What do you expect of this trip?

This question stuck with me during my trip, which turned out to be different than I expected.

Did I go back to cure my homesickness?

Did I expect I would go back and everything would be alright again?

Did I expect time would have stopped and I could just continue where I had left things?

It was a bit of a homecoming.

Flying into Johannesburg and driving to the farm from the airport felt so familiar.

I recognized houses, towns, shops.

Seeing “my” town again made my heart leap.

And holding dear friends in my arms again felt a bit like healing.

So yes, a bit of my homesickness was stilled, at least for two months.

It was also a bit like a revelation.

A shattering of expectations.

The bubble of nostalgic idealization burst and I was left with reality.

Things had changed, people had left and the perfect community we had had a year before did no longer exist.

The people had made the experience so unique, and without them I couldn’t just simply replicate it.

Things that had bothered me in the first year were still there, and I wondered how I could’ve idealized them, too.

So no, my expectations were shattered. But in a positive way.

When I returned to Germany the second time I knew a little bit better how to handle my homesickness.

I still missed friends and certain things deeply, and they will always be close to my heart. However, I don’t give in to nostalgic longing for things anymore that are more of a burden than a blessing.

My expectations were refined.

For those of you who returned “home”, what were your expectations and experiences?

[31 Days] Day 25 Look

It’s Day 25 of the 31 Days in the Life of a TCK series! Welcome! You can find more info on the series here. Don’t forget to subscribe!

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When I graduated from high school I knew I wanted to go abroad again.
I wasn’t really sure what to study and somehow the wide world out there seemed to draw me so much more than a German university.
While I was looking for offers and countries to go I received an email from a friend in Uganda: “We’re short staffed in the rehabilitation center at the moment and could really need some help. We are too stressed out to introduce someone completely new to the work, so it would be great to have someone who knows the culture, the language, the people, and the work. Why don’t you come back?”

There it was.
The door I had waited to open for years.
The door I had been pounding on in dark phases of homesickness, yearning to go back to Uganda.

But now it was different.
I didn’t want to go back.
Being so close to going “home” and living the dream all over again seemed scary and overwhelming out of a sudden.

You want to know why?
Well, back then I guess I couldn’t really explain it.
Now I have studied quite a bit, grown a bit older, and wrote my MA thesis on nostalgia. Looking back at past times, homes, friends…and leaving them there.
Saving a frozen perfect image of the past in your head, holding it close to your heart to warm yourself whenever the seemingly cold present seems to strangle you.

So when I look back I see the green nature surrounding our house.
The endless trips we took into the rain forest.
I hear the laughter of my friends.
I remember being happy.

Of course I was.
But my heart seems to leave out the moments of loneliness and despair.
It doesn’t remember the spiders and roaches, the power cuts, or any other negative memory.
Nostalgic looking back is filtered.

Back then I wasn’t ready to let this bubble of perfection I had made up in my mind burst. I wanted to preserve Uganda in the positive way I had put it together.

Now I think a little different.
I am not saying we should give up nostalgia altogether.
The missing part and longing for people/places/past emotions might always be there.
But it shouldn’t shape how we remember and create a fake image of something that could never exist that way.
We might have to let some of our bubbles burst.
Maybe visit the place where we grew up to refine our picture and strengthen the good memories.

This is a topic dear to my heart and I researched quite a bit on it for my MA thesis.
Some short excerpts and findings you can read here or here.
If you have any questions, let me know. Would love to hear your thoughts on this!

[31 Days] Day 20 Bug

It’s Day 20 of the 31 Days in the Life of a TCK series! Welcome! You can find more info on the series here. Don’t forget to subscribe!

Today you can read the second part of a series done by Wera.

We have known each other for years through the TCK camps we attended together. But only recently we talked and found this strange desire of rest inside of us. Are we allowed to rest or do we seem to have this bug inside of us that just makes us move all the time?

I am very happy that Wera shares her thoughts here with us! Here’s Part 1, in case you missed it!

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Of course I know that part of that longing can never be satisfied by any earthly thing or person, and that there is a spiritual dimension to rest which is not dependent on life circumstances.

It is an intrinsic part of the human experience to carry a longing inside of us that we cannot quite define and that will never be fulfilled, but that nevertheless keeps driving us to look for something else in life – and I think TCKs feels this more acutely.

And yet my (albeit limited) experience of living in the same place for a bit longer has also taught me that there is a certain rest that comes with knowing your way around a place, knowing how people tick, and knowing who you are in relation to that particular place. And there is even more rest in deep friendships in which we are intimately known, and feel safe, understood and loved.

But it takes time for this kind of intimacy and trust to grow.

And yes, in the time that it takes to build strong relationships, routine also settles in and life can get dry and repetitive, and with that come the itchy feet.

And yet there is something very beautiful in connecting more deeply with a place and its people over a longer period of time, and although it sometimes sucks, it’s an experience that’s worth sticking around for.

I’ve noticed that for me, less adventure and less change often seem to bring more rest for my soul and personal growth of a different type – the type that strengthens my roots rather than my wings.

And the older I get, the more my soul seems to long for rest over adventure.

At the moment I oscillate between feeling thirsty for adventure and full of excitement and energy for all the things I could do with my life now that I’ve finished university, and between feeling overwhelmed at the vastness of options in front of me and apprehensive about a lack of stability in the next few years.

Most people at my stage in life have at least some basic variables in place (they tend to have some fairly set ideas about where to live, who with, and/or what they want to do), but I seem to lack any sort of parameters in my life.

And whilst part of me is excited and grateful to be so free and independent and not tied to any particular place, person or profession, part of me is also envious of friends who are already much more settled or heading in a clear direction in life.

I’m beginning to accept that my attitude towards moving has become more complex and somewhat paradoxical, and that it’s okay to be confused about what I want.

We’ll see which of these contrasting feelings and desires end up dominating my life.

But for now, I’m going to acknowledge, and welcome, the fact that alongside my continuous longing for change and adventure, a new longing for rest and stability has also crept up – and it seems to be growing.

How do you deal with your feeling of restlessness? Is the strange desire for rest familiar to you?

[31 Days] Day 19 Rest

It’s Day 19 of the 31 Days in the Life of a TCK series! Welcome! You can find more info on the series here. Don’t forget to subscribe!

Today you can read the first part of a 2-day series done by Wera. She is German but grew up in Guinea-Bissau and likes to pretend that she’s British. She’s just graduated from Durham University with a BA in Arabic and politics, and is currently working as an aupair in Spain.

We have known each other for years through the TCK camps we attended together. But only recently we talked and found this strange desire of rest inside of us. I am very happy that she shares her thoughts here with us!

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Feeling restless is an intrinsic part of my identity.

As a TCK who has moved frequently, I’ve experienced and internalised a colourful (and sometimes confusing) mixture of cultures, habits, beliefs, traditions, languages and relationships.

Constant change and diversity seem to be of a somewhat addictive nature, and I have often noticed in myself a deep restlessness and a strong urge to move and experience something new that seems to kick in after around two years of staying in the same place.

By the time I was 12 I’d already moved about a dozen times, but then my family settled more permanently in Germany. After a couple of years it dawned on me that I would essentially have to stay in Germany for several more years until I finished high school.

Not only did that thought fill me with dread, but I couldn’t even truly conceive of it, having never lived anywhere for more than three years at the very most.

I promptly began to think about ‘escape routes’, and ended up going to England for an exchange year at the age of 15. What was meant to be just one year abroad to get some restlessness out of my system turned into a string of adventures in various countries.

Seven years later, I’ve just moved for the eighth time since, this time to Spain, after having lived in the UK, France and Palestine. When people hear my life story they often ask me which country I’d like to settle in eventually. I never really get that question.

I just cannot imagine life without moving frequently, so I usually joke that even if I found paradise, I’d still get bored and restless and would want to move after 2-3 years.

However, as much as I struggle to imagine being settled or even living anywhere more long-term (which I’d define as 3+ years), I’ve recently discovered in myself a strange new desire quietly creeping up alongside the one for adventure and change – a desire for stability and rest.

I’ve just graduated from university and am currently working as an aupair in Spain for a few months; after that I hope to find a job teaching English in the Middle East for a couple of years before maybe doing an MA in goodness-knows-where. My parents and siblings are about to be scattered across three different continents.

So the next few years look unlikely to hold much constancy for me, and I’m surprised to now notice in myself not just excitement, but also exhaustion, at this thought.

After all my experience of moving, I know the joy of engaging with and learning from people with a different culture and worldview to mine – but I also know the frustration of not being able to fully express myself and being misunderstood because of language and cultural barriers.

I know the thrill that comes from exploring new places and experiencing a new way of life – but I also know what it feels like to be lonely and homesick.

And when I say ‘homesick’, what I mean is not a longing for a particular place or particular people, but for a particular feeling – one of rest, of belonging, of being seen and understood for who I really am, and accepted and loved as such.

Stay tuned for Part 2 tomorrow!

[Five Minute Friday] Long

It’s another Friday, so I am linking up with the writer community at Kate Motaung‘s place.

This post is part 17 of the series “31 Days in the Life of a TCK”.

Come join the whole conversation here. Don’t forget to subscribe!

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“Africa? You’re going to Africa? This is so far away! It’s desert there, lots of dangerous animals, and only poor people!”

I remember my grandma saying things like that when we first told her we would be moving South. She came from a little village and hadn’t gone further than the European boarders, so she was terrified. Terrified to lose her children and grandchildren to heat, sickness, or lions.

She was terrified because she didn’t know. Africa was a long way for her.

But we went. All the long 8000 km to beautiful Uganda.

In these two years we had maybe 3 phone conversations (it was before the highspeed internet and smartphone age) with us walking around in the garden to get reception and screaming: “You there? Can you hear me? Merry Christmas, Grandma!” and the signal broke off.

Uganda is a long way.

Fortunately, we had a visitor one day who brought a video camera, so we shot a film for grandma, showing her everything in this new home of ours. The way we lived, the GREEN grass (Uganda is close to the equator and pretty green in rain season), the people we had come to love.

The next letter we got from her was very different. “Now I know where you are. Now I can be at peace. Africa is not as different as I thought.”

Suddenly, Uganda isn’t such a long way after all.

Long distances can become very small if we know how to bridge them well.

I am not saying the kilometers magically disappear.

And trust me, as soon as I hang up on a skype conversation I feel the distance more than ever before.

But thank God for so many ways to make the long distances come closer to us.

To allow the world to reach us where we are.

Having the world close to us can have its challenges as well – stay tuned for this part tomorrow!

How did/do you experience distances in your life? Any funny stories to tell?

[31 Days] Day 15 Away

It’s Day 15 of the 31 Days in the Life of a TCK series! Welcome! You can find more info on the series here. Don’t forget to subscribe!

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Do you have good friends?
The ones you can call in the middle of the night?
The ones you can walk over to for a spontaneous chat?
The ones you can be quiet around and still be understood?
The ones who make you laugh?
The ones who know things about you you’re not when aware of yourself because they grew up with you?
The ones who help you in the small and big crises life can bring?

I hope that we all have at least one friend like that.
You might be able to just walk over to your friend or call at no cost.

Well, TCK friendships are often a bit harder.
We travel a lot and friendships normally have an expiry date.
Far too soon you or the other person mögt away and friendship has to be redefined.

Quite often I discover a desire inside of me to be near my friends.
But where are they?
I don’t always have money to fly around the world and attend a friends wedding.
I first have to think about time difference before I call a friend to tell her good news. When I need a shoulder to lean on, a distant face on a computer screen just isn’t the real deal.

Friendships change so quickly.
As the quote says I sometimes feel like my part is ripped into pieces; everywhere I plant myself I leave a piece of my heart behind with beloved people.
And the more I move the more I yearn for these pieces far away.

But it works.
It’s still worth it planting myself in new places and discovering wonderful new friends. And the scarce time I get to spend with dear friends virtually is still a blessing.
Especially since we know that far away won’t last forever.
One day we will all be together and our hearts will be whole again.

How do you live friendships with people far away?

[Five Minute Friday] New

It’s Friday, so this means there will be a “normal” Five Minute Friday post here today. Join fellow writers over at Kate‘s!
But it’s also Day 3 of the 31 Days series in the Life of a TCK, so obviously it will all go under this theme. Never heard of the series? No problem, you’re welcome to join in! Find more infos here, then subscribe to get all the posts in your inbox!
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Six years after I had left Uganda I once again stepped onto African ground.
Somehow my heart had drawn me to South Africa, so I would spend a year there doing voluntary work in a township near Pretoria.
While packing, while saying goodbye, while anticipating the adventure – my heart sang: Africa, I am coming back.

I thought I knew Africa.
I thought I knew how things would be, what clothes to wear, what life to live, what people to meet.
Well, in some respect yes.
From the moment my team leader picked me up from the airport and we drove through the countryside I felt at home. Driving on the left side just seemed so much more natural to me than the right (and I still prefer it until today).

But in so many respects no.
Houses looked different, the roads had less potholes and more asphalt, and the people were different.
There were white people who called themselves African, a concept that did not fit in my picture of black-African; white- foreigner.
It took me a while to get used to the mambo jambo of the Rainbow Nation South Africa.

This would not just be another year in Africa. This was something new.
I was no longer the missionary kid tagged along by the parents and seeing what they did.
This was me being the missionary and doing the work, including all the joys and hardships.

Different good or different bad? Definitely good. But so new and challenging.

This experience is true for many TCKs who move between cultures and lived in even more countries than me.
You cannot compare one or the other.
Every bit of their lives is different and new.
And that’s okay, it keeps you fresh and challenges a different bit inside of you.

This experience is also true for just life with all its different transitions and life phases.
New job, graduating from college, getting married, having a child, retiring.
We think we know life and yet we always have to discover that there are new facets to it every day.
Different good or different bad?
Hopefully good.
And new and exciting.

Welcome to 31 Days!

Welcome to 31 Days in the Life of a TCK!

In the midst of state board examinations, organizing weddings and birthdays I have boldly accepted the challenge of writing every day in the month of October.

Yup, we’ll see how it goes…:)

However, I am not alone in this endeavor: I am linking up with Kate Motaung, who you might know as host of Five Minute Friday.

The posts won’t be that long so you can read along easily. You can find the direct links to individual posts below.

And of course, there will still be normal Five Minute Friday posts on Fridays. 🙂

I am also linking up with TheNester, the platform for all the people taking part in the challenge as well. There are about 1000 of them writing on all kinds of topics – why don’t you go check out a few of them!

The topic I have chosen for this challenge is 31 Days in the Life of a TCK.

TCK stands for Third Culture Kids – people who grew up in multiple cultures, incorporating different elements in their lives, feeling they could belong everywhere and nowhere. You will hear stories about the different stages in my life (Germany-Uganda-Germany-South Africa-Germany-USA-Germany-…) and what I have learned along the way. You will get a glimpse into what it means to live between worlds and what TCKs might enjoy or struggle with. Even better, I hope to get some other voices of dear friends on board, too. Different countries, but with similar experiences and great insight.

You can find more information on TCKs here. Otherwise just ask!

I hope you enjoy going on this journey with me!

I am not just writing for myself, but would love to hear from you. So share your questions, thoughts, experiences…