If Moving Overseas Makes Me Independent … Why am I so Dependent?
It has been more than three years since I bid farewell to my native Texas and headed across the pond-an independent young expat, ready to tackle Italy and the pasta-eating tribe of inhabitants that awaited me there. I was confident, in a clueless sort of way, that things would fall into place for me and that I’d quickly-and easily-adjust to my Calabrese life.
I look back on that hopeful naivety now with a smile and with the reassuring thought that had I known how quickly I’d lose my beloved independence … my journey might have been different.
Photo by: My Bella Vita
I remember with a kind of shocking absurdity the pride I felt that first time I ventured out alone, senza future husband. I walked down the walled-river path to the local supermercato in search of those must-have female items … Q-tips, hairspray, volumizing shampoo.
“No problem,” I thought as I entered the store and grinned at the salesperson who greeted me. “Piece of cake!”
Then I spent the next 30 minutes scrounging the store in search of afore-mentioned Q-tips, because, as I remembered about four aisles in, I didn’t know how to ask for them in Italian.
Those vulnerable feelings stayed with me through much of the following year, when my husband had to take a mini-course in hairstyling so he could tell my new hairdresser I wanted bangs and a right-side part … when he gave out his number to potential English students and agreed to make my appointments for me … when I couldn’t go to the doctor alone.
And let’s not get started on driving. And road signs. And parking.
I was plagued with the self-consciousness that accompanies losing your independence, yet it happened so gradually I hadn’t realized it. Then, one day I woke up. I didn’t feel anxious about driving to the store. I walked into the centro commerciale and was hit with a wave of something that was eerily familiar.
I couldn’t place it.
What was this feeling?
As I entered the supermercato and headed straight to aisle #8, I realized what it was.
Comfort.
Peace.
Independence.
I took a deep breath and laughed at the drama I’d once faced at buying a package of Q-tips.
“Eccolo,” I told the lady as I checked out.
“Solo i bastoncini cotonati …”
“Just the Q-tips!”
Have you had an “I’ve arrived” moment like this? What happened? Please share.
Cherrye Moore is an American freelance writer in southern Italy. In addition to AffordableCallingCards.net, she writes about living and traveling in Calabria on her site, My Bella Vita. Comments and messages are welcome on both sites.
Ed: Why not make your next calls to Italy cheap?
Tags: Calabria, Getting Adjusted, Italy
My question is… why would you move to a foreign country without learning the language first?
It is hard enough to change country, making the move without knowing the language is just asking for trouble!
There are a lot of reasons people move to a new country-I moved to reduce the 8,000 mile gap between my husband and me-but many people move to a new country to learn a language. You can spend years in classrooms or studying with books and CDs, but the #1 best way to learn a language is to get to that country.
…Too much! As an aside, I buy mine in the USA, ‘cuz they’re just not the same here…!
Ciao Francesca! Nice seeing you here. I try to focus my luggage weight on things I can’t get at all in Italy and just kinda make do with the rest. I would love to find me some good ketchup over here, though. And mustard.
i spoke spanish before moving to spain, but not at all fluently. i was okay in face to face situations, aided by context and body language and hand gestures and the like, but i never spoke on the phone. it just seemed like without all the physical stuff going on, i couldn’t understand a thing. then one day i said to someone on the phone, struggling to speak to me in english, ‘it’s okay. you can speak to me in spanish. it’s all the same to me.’
really, ‘es igual’ it’s all the same. without thinking, i’d confirmed my bilingual status. felt good. however, now i’m in a long distance relationship with a serbian. i don’t feel that same sense of independence at all in belgrade. i’m totally dependent. but it’s just something else to work for.
found you via arlene’s blog. i’ll be back!
Hola Ieishah! Thanks for coming by and commenting. Don’t you *love* that feeling when you finally feel comfortable in another language? The funny thing is, it kinda sneaks up on you and you didn’t even realize it is there.
I totally understand how you feel being “dependent,” but I predict that with your background, you will be just fine!
Great post, Cherrye. Isn’t is strange how you think you’re going to be so independent and then you can’t even find the stupid Qtips? I too have gone through similar feelings living in Switzerland. The language still makes it hard.
Yes, Chantal, the Qtips were an eye-opener for me. There is definitely something unsettling about not being able to ask simple questions. I love your writerabroad website, by the way!