For smart fish out of water....

That well known analogy, with a clever tweak by my web designer at the time, became the tag line for an earlier version of my website for expatriates. It so perfectly captured the frustration, confusion, and culture shock many travelers feel when thrust, even willingly, outside of their comfort zone. 

The expat ‘fish’ can feel worse, especially a mother in the hunt for a box of Cheerios for her toddler after her family has moved overseas. Many of us learned the hard way and with much stress that a university degree doesn’t get you very far when trying to figure out which neatly stacked white bag is flour, salt, corn starch, or sugar when they are all in the same packaging and labelled in Chinese!

It also describes the woman I used to be: one completely unsuited for her role as a foreign service wife. With my big unedited mouth, being diplomatic was a constant battle. Likewise, my aversion to snobby cocktail parties was equal parts nightmare to me and unhelpful to my husband’s career. My failure was further sealed by an intense dislike of getting dressed up in ‘big girl clothes’ (that would mean a dress, panty hose and shoes with heels) and finally, by my embarrassing track record of an inability to learn any foreign language.

When we chose to leave government service for the private sector, I hoped my days of trying to fit into a life so desperately wrong for me were mercifully behind me.

Unfortunately, I didn’t bother to re-read my first two books about culture shock. Both of my early efforts, in their final chapters, addressed the biggest shock of all for someone away traveling for months even years or those who have been living abroad for an extended period time.

And what shock would that be? It’s the shock of repatriating to one’s own culture and being engulfed in the highs and lows of unexpected and usually unplanned for re-entry shock. My discomfort of returning ‘home’ to a country that didn’t quite feel familiar to me anymore was more discombobulating than seeing my first cow brazenly waltz down a street in New Delhi.

In India, the cows were not unexpected. In Vancouver, I didn’t anticipate that friendly Canadians would blow off my phone calls so often that I resorted to leaving this message on their voice mail: “I’m writing a story about people who don’t return calls. Can you give me a ring at ___?”

I had to write another full length book just on the subject of repatriation to lift me out of my depression and to get past feeling the interesting, challenging and stimulating part of my life was over.

But, time moves on and re-entry shock dissipates. Until, that is, another ‘r’ word rears its ugly head: retirement.

Frustration, distress, and confusion all take over. Again. What to do with the rest of your life, especially now that experts tell us we could live thirty years beyond the age we retire?

Luckily, as I noted in a previous post on retirement denial is the first stage. Eventually, and it may take a while to work through all the stages, one embraces the next natural stage of life.

Will this so-called fish out of water be smart enough to just tread water until the horizon comes clearly into view once again?

Anyone out there want to dive in with a comment?