What AM I, anyway? Am I an immigrant to Mexico? No… I am not here seeking citizenship. But ?yes?… I am planning on living here, probably permanently. Or am I a migrant? No… migrant usually refers to someone working, often temporarily, in a country other than their own. I am not, nor do I plan to, work in Mexico. Am I an expatriate? That is what my blog title says. So, kinda yes, although expat frequently refers to highly skilled workers that are living, usually temporarily, in countries other than their own. Again, I am not working, just living. There are so many words, and those words carry so many meanings. And some of the meanings are more than just descriptors.
But what makes one person an expat, and another a foreign worker or migrant? Often the former is used to describe educated, rich professionals working abroad, while those in less privileged positions — for example, a maid in the Gulf states or a construction worker in Asia — are deemed foreign workers or migrant workers. The classification matters, because such language can in some cases be used as a political tool or to dehumanise.
BBC.com
We’ve spent time in a lot of places. We have seen the power of words, frequently wielded like cudgels, and often by non-natives as they demeaned the citizens of the country. We were fortunate to have a 3-year adventure in the Middle East. That was a real immersion in the culture, the people, the amazing opportunities, the subtle bigotry, and the psychosis inducing “that’s the way it is” moments. The funny part about those three years was to realize that the hassles weren’t fundamentally any different than the ones that we all experience in our home towns, in our home countries. they were just more obvious because we were out of our element. The details of the moments might be different, but it boiled to same sh*t, different language/culture/country.
For me, that realization was profound. There is no, perfect place. You can’t go “over the rainbow” and be removed from annoyances, bigotry, hassles, and things that make you want to tear out your hair and go cry in a corner. Those experiences are EVERYWHERE.
The Basha will happily tell people that our time in the Middle East was … 22 or 28 or … of the best months so far in his life experience. The numbers change with each retelling. And the truth of the matter is that the “not-best” times aren’t weeks or months in a swath, it is a day here, 3 hours there, a single event, an overheard slanderous comment. They all add up over time. As far as I can tell, it is the same everywhere – great chunks of good people and good living, interrupted now and again with experiences that you never wanted to deal with.
The experiences are universal, and some of the language around living in other places is universal as well. The one that I keep coming back to is EXPAT. I call myself an expat (expatriate – a person who lives outside of their native country). Many of the Americans, Canadians, Australians, etc. that I meet refer to themselves as expats. And technically, I guess, that is what we are. However it is, more than occasionally, used to indicate privilege. Am I an expat because I am considered affluent in the country where I reside? If I were living in a country that was more affluent than myself, would I be a migrant or an immigrant?
I don’t have any answers regarding the politicization of language, or the language of privilege. I’m just trying to learn, listen, and be honest about my experiences and my thoughts.
Interesting deconstruction of perspectives, thanks.
That is very interesting on self reflection.
And how cool and brave you are to allow yourself to be the Expat.
Loving your blogs!