To Be or Not To Be: An Aussie
Next month, it will be five years since I moved to Australia. It is my fifth country of residence. The idea of obtaining Australian citizenship was once as far-fetched as landing here to begin with. The path that led me here was anything but simple; a year in Germany, five years in The Netherlands, and four years in Singapore came before the “Lucky Country.” Nothing would make me happier than to say that once I landed in the Land Down Under all was well. I’ve spent the past few years documenting the difficulties of my peripatetic life, but there have been triumphs as well. But to declare that I have found my space, my tribe, my happiness in a place so unexpected is another matter entirely.
There was a honeymoon phase to be certain. Freedom from the oppression that plagues Singapore was a single drop of rain in the hurricane of happiness. Brisbanites asked, “How are you handling the humidity?” After life less than two degrees from the Equator, I wanted to say, “What humidity?” Australia is a vast open land of natural beauty. The only examples of natural beauty in the city-state were the carefully constructed, curated gardens. Beautiful as they may be, there is simply no comparison to the island nation I now call home.
As always, the infatuation fades and reality surfaces. I was fifteen thousand miles from most of my friends and the city I grew up in. In time zones, that equates to fourteen or fifteen hours of time difference–depending on the time of year. Despite the fact that I had spent a month in Sydney before making the decision to move to this country, I found I didn’t understand the people or culture at all. On the surface, we both have Anglo-Saxon roots and speak the same language. In reality, we could not be more different from one another in culture, experience, or global perspective. Why I would have thought differently about two places which evolved in opposite regions of the planet is beyond me.
To be fair, this is the first time that I have lived anywhere other than the United States long enough to obtain citizenship. I had the opportunity after five years in the Netherlands, but when I posted my application to take the test to the address on the immigration web site, it was returned. The address had changed and was not yet updated online. Nor was there a new address included with the returned documents. Shortly after my application was returned, I learned that the hoped-for opportunity to relocate to Singapore was approved. The trial of language and culture testing was suddenly irrelevant. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved.
Flash forward to February 2016. I discovered quite by accident that I was eligible to complete the final obstacle to moving from Australian permanent residency to Australian citizenship. With that knowledge came the barrage of unbidden, nagging questions: Did I want to become “Australian”? Would that mean I was no longer “American”? Was I a traitor to my birthplace—the nation where I was raised and educated? If I proceed, am I leaving my Dutch husband (whose country doesn’t allow dual citizenship in all circumstances) behind somehow?
After fifteen years overseas, you begin (insanely) to believe that you have this game figured out. But is it possible to “figure out” a question which relies so heavily on the heart for an answer? It’s no secret that I love this country, but is it even possible to adopt a new homeland when you aren’t forced to by war or another tragic circumstance? And if those things aren’t a factor, when why would you?
A few reasons:
Because you can
Because the entire world is making immigration more and more difficult
Because the years you have been gone have eroded the ties you left behind
Because, like everyone else, you want a secure future and a better life
Because you feel accepted in the adopted country
Because you feel misunderstood in the one you were born in
Because you have seen enough of the world to know a good thing when you see it
Because the new country welcomes you
Because your desired lifestyle is realistic in the new country, not an unachievable ideal
Because the only thing that matters is now
Of course I can go on. I could say that my dream in life was to life in a place with more beaches and islands than I will ever have time to visit. I might also tell you that I have never had more unexpected adventure in a country despite the many I have “tried on” and I know that life will never ever be boring here. Pythons in the driveway. Koalas in the back yard. Need I say more?
Many people who have read my books tell me that it’s all about “culture shock.” Well folks, I’m here to tell you that culture shock is only part of the equation. You see, once you get around a fair bit, it becomes blatantly obvious that not every country is a fit for every personality. Simply put, some places are more “home” than others will ever be, regardless of the duration of your stay. I had no true desire to become Dutch, German, or Singaporean—but Australian is a label I will wear proudly. My years here have been far from perfect, but they have brought me closer to it than I would ever have thought possible.
The post To Be or Not To Be: An Aussie appeared first on Worldwise Publications.
