Between Seasons, Between Worlds
Comfortable in both, uncomfortable in both
Looking outside causes me to squint. Sun is reflecting off water covering our yard. Although it's been raining for a few months here in Cambodia last week felt like a key change. We are heading into the serious half of the rainy season now. If we are going to be flooded in, it will be sometime in the next 2 months.
Spring photos suddenly began blossoming on my Aussie friends' Facebook timelines this week. They are writing about sunshine and thinking about taking the first swim after winter. Sneezing was the soundtrack of the Septembers of my childhood.
Meanwhile, my fellow ex-pats are posting “back to school” photos. September is the start of a new school year, the end of “The Summer” and the start of “Fall”.
International schools in Cambodia follow the same school year as much of the northern hemisphere. I’m seeing those photos, as well as over a decade worth of friends who were in Asia once and are now back in America, etc.
I first encountered this in China. It was so weird that people called July “The Summer”. At least it made sense there where it was hot at that time of year.
Expats here still call July “Summer” even though the weather is cooler than in the preceding months.
No mention of where we are in the Aussie school year, it must be about three-quarters of the way through the year. Christmas is synonymous with the end of school and summer holidays. The school year follows the calendar year.
And for local government schools here I think their long school vacation is coming up although I’m not sure. And for the small private schools so many go to, I don’t even know if they take a break. The French school is still on summer break I think.
This change in season comes just as I’m thinking about how I’m most comfortable between worlds.
I first started reading TCK blogs and books for the sake of our kids. Although they don’t fit exactly into the definition of Third Culture Kid, there is so much overlap.
But I’m finding it useful for myself as well. From age 8 to 18 I lived in the same house, but I’ve been moving house between 4 different countries my whole adult life.
“…We live between worlds, sometimes comfortable in one, sometimes in the other, but only truly comfortable in the space between…”
“Burqas and Miniskirts” in Between Worlds”
From Marilyn Gardner’s website
I just realized how much I like this quote even though I’ve been reading Marilyn Gardner’s books and blogs for a few years. I love the way she describes things. The sights and sounds of Pakistan, and the feeling of straddling homes.
Giving birth for the first time. So special. So scary. Where do you want to be for this? For some their passport country seems the best place for them to be looked after. For others, their host country is most convenient.
For me, it worked out that a “between worlds” location was ideal. A third country where neither of us had ever been but had an ex-pat community.
Even though I didn’t know anyone there it felt easy to slot in and I’m so thankful to have shared that time with a collection of Americans who live in various parts of Asia. I had never met them before, and most likely won’t see them again.
This current change in season is highlighting the between-ness for me. September and Spring were practically the same words in my childhood- they even start with the same letter.
But these days I regularly have people ask me “How was your Summer?” They mean how was my July, and they are asking because it is assumed I would have a different timetable for that month.
I will probably always link this time of year to hayfever- but never again to ONLY hayfever- it is now also a new school year and watching for floods.
And then for my husband and children, it’s a different experience again.
Soeun my Cambodian husband is neither Australian nor any other ex-pat, so September is not Spring or “back to school” for him. And although he is a local his home life and most intimate relationships are not local.
And our children? We don’t know what their childhood will end up being like apart from that it will be so different from both their parent’s childhoods. They eat spaghetti with chopsticks, go on planes more than buses, say zed and zee at the end of the alphabet.
But for now, the four of us share this muddy, flooded yard and continue our year-round homeschooling. Our own comfortable between worlds home.
Thanks for reading. Here are some of my other ex-pat stories:
Aussie ex-pat in community with Americans
Ex-pat stays in the host country as fellow ex-pat leave
Ex-pat leaves host county, becomes re-pat
