“A bird does not sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song”. Maya Angelou

{Photo taken by me, Tienhoven, the Netherlands}

There’s a special camaraderie shared by those who find the courage to uproot from the refuge of their own homes, of their own everyday lived reality in the pursuit of a Dream, and in some of our cases, for that Someone Special. We muster the will to leave behind aspects of our lives that are irreplaceable: family, friends, places, familiarity, comfort, security, possessions, careers, personal space and a perceived identity. The list goes on…We often find ourselves building literally from the ground up, of being brave enough (and as some would argue foolish) to put  “all our eggs in one basket”.  If you want complete honesty, than it’s actually putting all our hopes and dreams in someone else’s basket. Of believing in that Someone Special, in that relationship with all your heart as to make a full commitment and giving up a certain degree of control, of complete autonomy.

Only those who have done it know that there’s more involved than just a list of tangible things we ‘miss’ from ‘home’. It runs deeper than the occasional or frequent exasperated longings for a warm bowl of phó, Pete’s coffee, waffles and fried chicken, In-n-Out burger, a Gordo’s burrito, clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl, Cheeseboard pizza, and kippered salmon on an everything bagel with the works. It’s even more than missing out on all the beloved  holidays, family get-togethers,  last-minute dinner plans with friends, early morning spinning classes and all other memories of wonderful moments that could be repeated over and over again with equal joy for their own simplicity. Though rather reluctantly at first and eventually more accepting,  we painfully acknowledge that our relationships with those that we hold closest to our hearts will develop differently or sometimes not at all, due to distance, lack of personal contact or perhaps for unknown reasons beyond our own control. Alternatively, there’s the keen awareness that we may never approach our new life and new friends with the same ease and comfort of having known someone for what seems like forever. We just have to open our hearts to those who are willing to make an effort back with us and be grateful towards those who find room for us in their lives.

For the longest time, nothing was as easy as the way it was. Absolutely nothing. Going to the grocery store or any other shop became an ordeal as my clumsiness and unfamiliarity with the Dutch language and practices were perceived to be incompetent and stupid. It took a while to for me to get accustomed to the Dutch tradition of being pushed and shoved around in the train, of having to constantly be alert or potentially risk getting run over by a rude cyclist.  Of having to experience for the first time in my life, overt and subtle forms of racism, of being objectified with racial Asian slurs of being a “pinda” and being categorized as an allochtoon. Of people instantly being suspicious, weary and put off by me because I made a sincere effort to be nice, down-to-earth, and bubbly—characteristics I was later to discover may not be appreciated by more reserved, traditional Dutchies. Of people being skeptical when I explain that I’m American and the occasional discomfort shock, or disbelief on their end that I, a Pilipino-American can speak, read and write more eloquently and fluently in English than all their Dutch education could not do for them. I found myself not being able to make anybody laugh, much less capture their attention with my stories and subtleties. And often times, not being able to laugh much either because the humor, language and popular culture references are all lost in translation.

What my experiences in the Netherlands basically means is that I am no longer in the progressive, liberal San Francisco Bay Area, sunny California, the United States of America. Life is full of the unpredictable and the limitless choices one can make perhaps unknowingly, even the smallest ones like saying hello back to a Dutch foreign exchange student, can profoundly alter the course of one’s life forever. Life in the Netherlands with my Dutch fiancé, because it involves so much compromise and character building experiences, has been the most challenging and rewarding of all. Though at times I had desperately wanted to just book a flight back home, emotionally exhausted from all the culture shock and ongoing discomfort, I never regretted for a moment of falling in love with him.

When I came to the Netherlands to join Bram, my only dream was love. Coming from a very traditional immigrant Filipino family who invested all their hopes and hard-earned money to guarantee my future success and my own personal sacrifices, I unwisely packed in my Utrecht-bound baggage quite a bit of resentment and insecurity. Let’s just say that all those countless, sleepless nights in my competitive private high school to graduate summa cum laude, majoring in molecular biology at UC Berkeley, being a researcher and studying at the University of Pennsylvania, community service, and personal development programs did not include “domestic goddess” as the end career objective.

I resolved to make my relationship work, of preparing for our impending nuptials, and working on establishing a marriage rooted in Christian values, but I wasn’t prepared to establish my life in the Netherlands. Foolish and indignant, I awkwardly and stubbornly straddled the porthole to a New Life, one foot in and one foot out but never fully stepping through to the Low Countries. I never allowed the door to return back to the San Francisco Bay Area to close behind me so that I can actually move forward into our life together. All the while I convinced myself that my unwavering devotion and love for my fiancé would dismiss and excuse my reluctance to a accept and live in the present. I criticized everything about the Netherlands—some actually warranted and others not.

After all, I naïvely thought that I didn’t have to love the Netherlands to love him. Granted, I’ve stumbled upon one too many Dutch people who were not at all welcoming to me (understatement) and the moral compass was not at all in line at all with my own. So… instead of solely addressing the lack of acceptance and apparent disregard for my feelings from a select few Dutchies and random unenlightened strangers, I fought the Netherlands and the Dutch culture actively, paying too much attention to all its weaknesses, shortcomings, and limitations rather than appreciating all the opportunities, freedoms, and social security benefits all in front of me.

I need to be fair and to make an attempt to adjust to life, the here and now. If not for me, but for us. I need to accept that this is indeed a different place. I’m sure from time to time, I’ll be upset and frustrated, guilty again of being overly critical and harsh with my assessment(s).  Forgive me in advance. The challenges posed by our circumstances of pursuing multi-cultural marriage and the misplacement of my own Filipino-American identity are difficult enough without me fueling the fire. Nothing could compare to the San Francisco Bay Area, with the sun gently smiling down warmly on sun-kissed faces, outwardly friendly people with offers of genuine smiles, friends to be or not, contentedly straddled between the ocean, mountains, hills, and soft rolling valleys. Even when the perfect Someone Special was right under my nose, I got lost with focusing on everything else that wasn’t because….I was insecure with myself.  I found myself for the first time without an identity or language skills to express my intelligence, my passions, and my interests.

I’ve never doubted that it in the end, it would all be worth it.  Living in the Netherlands has been one of the best learning experiences I’ve ever had. My time here thus far, though at times characterized by a confusing blur of changes, momentum, adjustments, resentments, bliss, uncertainty, anxiety, has allowed me to truly grow as a person and in learning. Learning to finally being able to depend on someone. Learning to need and be needed. Learning simply to be, to really know how to live in the moment.

By some miracle, I have found a relative peace when Bram and I finally decided to make the Netherlands our home. Not to forget to mention the love, patience and compassion extended to us by his closest Dutch friends and our new-found ones who we happen to come across due to mere chance or fate. I’ve never been happier in my life, and though I know with certainty of more unknown difficult obstacles I’m going to come across, I’ve gained a certain level of maturity, of confidence in myself and with Bram, that in the end, everything will be okay. I’ve learned to believe in myself again, to forgive and be forgiven, and patience. For the fleeting moments when there is peace, of tranquility and joy, I’ve learned to fully grab it by its tails, enjoy it for as long as I can, live for the moment, and be content and prepared to let it go when the moment passes by. I’ve also learned not to let other people’s misery and unhappiness, rudeness and lack of insight ruin my own happiness or change my outwardly bubbly personality. I’ve learned to accept God’s Grace, to “Let Go and Let God“.

Being an expat in pursuit of a Dream and/or for that Someone Special is all about taking a blind leap of faith.

For now, I look forward to coming closer to my Dutch fluency, preparing for a series of life-determining exams, wedding and marriage preparation with Bram, and spending Thanksgiving weekend in Autruche (Champagne Valley, France) with the first Dutch people who’ve extended genuine friendship, patience, and love from the moment they met me. For that and many more, I give thanks.

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 22nd, 2009 at 7:31 pm and is filed under Expat Journey(s). You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.