When someone uses the term Expat I don’t really feel like they’re talking to me. It makes me think of fat, old men who make loads of money and have a cute little Asian wife at home. Unfortunately, I am neither rich nor married.
Ultimately I chose to live in another country and that’s just it. I’ve been doing it before and these days it’s somehow normal. As normal as life in China can get.
Normal in the sense that I thoroughly enjoy the excitement of living in a different culture, meeting new people, making new friends and having the occasional longing for home. Which then leads to German bread baking sessions, Paulaner Brauhaus trips and the urge to eat some “Weiss-Wurst”. And to despise my neighbor who chooses to clear out his throat for about half an hour every morning at 7.30am and whose bathroom is right across the hallway from mine so it sounds like I’m standing next to him.
Don’t get me wrong, I generally really like my neighbors. A big part of the decision to move in to an old apartment was to have an actual Chinese neighborhood. My improving Mandarin is completely useless here, as all the elderly neighbors only speak Shanghainese and my Shanghainese vocabulary doesn’t go beyond “What’s up?” and “Socks”. Useful, I know.
Regardless. It all still counts as expatriate and you can vote for this blog at the Expat Blog Awards.
You know how I love to win and you can support by leaving a nice little comment, however short it may be. Lots of Love.