On Living Abroad As A Third Culture Kid

By Naina Parasher

Being a third culture kid, it doesn’t take long to realize that friends you make away from your home country, are eventually going to turn into your family away from family, come what may.

Growing up in the middle-east, within a compact mess of differing yet starkly similar cultures, depending on your perspective, I realized quite quickly the subtle complexities of interpersonal communications and relationships be they personal or purely business. Different cultures have different connotations for any body language cue you want to consider. Even within the different countries in the middle east, general introductory handshakes and hugs were actions you had to think through thoroughly. One less kiss while hugging someone goodbye, and the person might interpret a different level of acquaintance than intended. Or if you are a man, expecting a hand-shake from a female superior, could mean disrespect for the person standing in front of you. These subtleties differed a lot back in my country of origin. Depending on the city I was in, the person I was interacting with, a simple gesture carried a myriad of meanings. These grew further complex on moving to yet another international city in Europe, wherein interacting with peers and colleagues from the same background became yet another mess of gestures, leaving everyone thoroughly confused.

Which made me soon realize the banality of these actions and thoughts. The fundamental question asked in every new interaction, every introduction, if not directly, somehow paralleled the same implication,

“Where are you from?”

Every third culture kid can verify this for me when I say, the answer to the question largely depends on who is asking and when rather than the actual reality of my background story. Depending on the convenience of the circumstance, my answer usually differs from “I’m from (insert country of origin).”, a quick two-minute summary of the places I have lived and the reason behind, to reverting with the question, “Why do you ask?” The latter end of the spectrum is a last resort of sorts, wherein I am unable to predict or placate the reasons for the question. Which, oftentimes, ends up being a question either out of curiosity based purely on a judgement on my looks versus personality, or an attempt to locate me in their stereotype of a person belonging to a certain country or region. Both connoting a familiar intrigue yet loaded with differing intentions. Either way, the answer still disabling them from coming to a certain conclusion about my identity.

A conclusion that I have yet to come to myself.

The definition of home, for every third culture kid, is an incomplete sentence. A feeling, a sense of belonging, the place where you live, the place where you are from, somewhere you can always return and settle down, no matter which way you put it, the definition never completely fits. Just like that worn-out, chaffed piece of a puzzle, found usually in the miscellaneous drawer of things you never threw away, and the piece somehow got misplaced and ended up there, which might fit into a puzzle but doesn’t really complete the picture.

A sense of belonging is something every human seeks. Be it in terms of finding a community for yourself or a place of comfort, a position or circumstance where you are free to be yourself. To truly embrace your own identity and be comfortable with it, rather than the one you built for every language that you can speak. If you feel lost with this statement, ask anyone in your vicinity who speaks more than one language, the certain merits (or de-merits) of the ability to communicate in one language not only includes the advantage of a clear understanding of a completely new culture but also the opportunity to emulate a personality be-fitting to the location and culture. There are certain personality traits that present themselves while speaking said second- or- third, fourth, fifth language, that do not present themselves in any other and that is rarely within your conscious control. The same goes for the accent. Even while speaking English itself, depending on the location and the person I am interacting with, the a’s automatically turn to ah’s and the t’s become more pronounced. The enunciations and stresses change like a button has been switched in my head without my knowledge of it.

With these changes being a common happenstance, moving into a new city, learning a new culture, and adapting accordingly can be exhausting, yet it remains to be more rewarding than going back to your city of origin and trying to fit into a culture and society which you no longer understand, and neither do they you.

There always comes a beseeching sense of abstracted feelings when going back to your country of origin. On one hand, you have always belonged there, on the other hand, you never can truly belong there. The wandering sense of a true commitment, the subsumption of culture, the intricacies of which no longer appeal to you, can be endearing yet difficult to accept.

Going home, and settling there no longer remains a plausible option, yet endless wanderlust, also, does not present itself as a sensible position to acquire. One is, yet again faced with the question of belonging. The true understanding of home, the true feeling of fitting completely and wholly into a given puzzle.

To overcome these dilemmas, all you can do is find a group of friends around whom you can discard your worries about the banal subtleties which complicate what are supposed to be comfortable interactions. You learn to live in the present, within a temporary sense of comfort, fleeting yet overwhelmingly here and convincingly presenting an infinitesimal presence of luxury.

There are few moments, where you get to experience that sense of comfort, far away from abstracted feelings and yet close enough to complexities of the subtle enraptures of life.

Knowing and understanding this sensation, there comes a certain struggle to finding that mini-community of your own in a new city. With the staggering new tropes of life, acclimatizing to a new culture with the right set of people becomes a challenge in itself. You realize that there are very few who will understand the intended meaning of your conversations or talk on the same wavelength that you are on. Fewer so will have experiences or ideas which add further to these conversations without misinterpreting the tone or the nuances of your communications.

If then, you find your people, they become your family away from family.

By Naina Parasher