NorthSouthEastWest: Expat Dispatches
Welcome back for another four-way guest post of our virtual blog NorthSouthEastWest: Expat Dispatches!
We are four bloggers who have joined together to rotate our monthly guest posts from the four corners of the world on each other’s blogs: Yours Truly here at www.adventuresinexpatland.com (North, Netherlands), Russell at www.insearchofalifelessordinary.com (South, Australia), Erica at www.expatriababy.com (East, Japan) and Maria at www.iwasanexpatwife.com (West, Canada).
Some months we write on a theme, other months we just write about whatever strikes our fancy. This month the theme is How Different Cultures Physically Interact.
I hope you’ll enjoy Erica’s post below entitled ‘Physical Souvenirs,’ and that you’ll catch my post ‘A Silent Movie’ over at her site. Even better, please check out all four!
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As we move move through countries and pass in and out of years, we
expats acquire souvenirs, tangible memories our host countries. A kilim from Dubai, perhaps. An antique bench that tells a story of dusty Spanish roads and orange blossoms. Or a stone Buddha that takes up a not insignificant portion of your freight allowance but gets carted to the next destination, regardless.
There is one category of souvenirs, however, whose weight may not compare to that of a stone Buddha, yet whose presence is no less significant.
As we leave our host countries, we take with us pieces of our host culture, often in the form of newly acquired body language. The
physicality of a culture imparts itself on our person and we incorporate new movements and gestures into our own multi-lingual body language. As expats we are collectors of objects yes, but also of customs, and with that comes modes of physical expression.
As an Anglo-Saxon Canadian growing up in small town Ontario, I started
with a baseline physicality of friendly reserve. It is a trait common to the northerly countries, I believe. The cold climate engenders physical conservatism; energy is not wasted in exuberant gestures and wide open vowels. Gestures are kind, but small and quiet. A hand raises partway off the steering wheel as you drive down the street, a greeting to everyone you pass. Hugs are for family members. Otherwise, hands stayed in pockets.
Then slowly, with the internet, and American cable TV, the hug started
creeping in. The hug was new. And everywhere. Friends, relatives, parents, parents’ friends, friends of friends, random people who happen to be introduced to at a party were all greeted (and bid farewell) with a quick hug. A fleeting touching of breasts, a lose wrap of arms. Not lingering, yet more than my poor northern heart could take. (I must admit that this is one physical expression that I have never really been able to adopt. One souvenir that I’ve left behind.)
As a young adult and aspiring francophone, I moved to France and set
about improving my French. While I didn’t make much progress in the
linguistic department, my repertoire of physical expression was greatly enriched. I mastered the simultaneous shoulder shrug and loose-lip raspberry that is the perfect expression for almost any frustrating situation. I admired the easy elegance with which the women moved through the city. I tried (rather clumsily, I might add) to tuck a baguette under my arm and stroll down the street. (I still do this, although with considerably less nonchalance than a native French person.)
I also became an air kisser. Touching someone cheek to cheek, even an
almost-stranger somehow seems more genteel and less of an enforced
intimacy than the American hug. After a few bumbling nose knocking
missteps, I developed the sixth sense that is required to determine which side to start on. With a marriage to a Swiss and time spent in Switzerland the double air kiss expanded to the triple kiss. And still, to this day, I feel incomplete concluding a friendly visit with a wave and a goodbye. I miss the ritual coda of the air kiss.
We moved to Asia, and I had my first ride on the Shanghai Metro. A wave of people going down the stairs carried me to the platform. Train doors opened, and a crush of bodies enveloped me, and then left me behind, alone as the beep beep beep announced closing train doors. Slowly, the art of surviving a crowd became apparent. The anxious, small movements one makes while waiting bunched up in group keep you
light on your feet, ready to spring. And then, as soon as the train arrives, you leap into action, dodging bodies, pushing past grannies, (or, more likely being shoved aside by them) to be the first to enter the train. China taught me physical assertiveness, sharpened my elbows, so much that today, as I walk down a street I do so with a quickness, weaving through people like flags on a ski hill wanting to be FIRST! to get to the exact same stoplight as my fellow pedestrians.
And what souvenirs will I take with me from Japan?
The most obvious
souvenir, of course is my daughter, who was born here.
So I’ll take with me the physicalities of Japanese baby care: the subtle difference in Japanese peek-a-boo (inai, inai, ba!), and the way that you look at a baby and quickly bob your head down and then up, in a mini-bow (this always makes my girl smile), and the pats on a baby’s back, light, quick, rhythmic taps in Japan rather than the slow, circular pats of the west.
What souvenirs of physical interaction do you carry with you from country to country?
















Great post, Erica. I like the way you build from the cold north through Europe to the east, showing the growing physicality between different cultures.
For me having lived in English-speaking countries, the souvenirs are more subtle, less specific.
The informality has grown as I’ve moved from a more reserved north to what I’d term a laidback south. There is less protocol in any given social situation and a ‘take me as you find me’ attitude to life in the land down under.
This is, at once, both welcoming and challenging, especially if you have been brought up in the mode of getting to know someone first, then opening up to them.
Here, a stranger will chat to you by the side of the road almost as if you’re best friend, with open gestures and frequent physical contact, from a pat to a grab to a firm handshake.
Back in the UK, I’d still be staring straight ahead conscious that a potential body snatcher might be stood next to me at this point in the relationship
It’s funny Russell. As I read your comment, I kept thinking that Americans are more laid back and open as the Aussies, perhaps not quite as physical. Yet we’d have the potential body snatcher thought in the back of our mind, as well!
Thanks for the praise on my post, Russell! It means a lot!
It sure is interesting how the physicality of a country or region varies by degrees of closeness and formality. I’ve always considered Canada to be a fairly open and informal place. But I’m starting to see it as a bit more standoffish. While we certainly do exchange pleasantries with strangers, wave, and chat about the weather, I think hearty backslapping would be a bit out of place.
I love that this NSEW project is teaching me things I didn’t know about my own culture!
The air kiss has definitely remained with me. The trick is figuring out which of my friends are also air-kissers before I go in for the mwah. I have to maintain a mental air-kiss rolodex so I don’t alarm anyone who isn’t prepared for some cheek-to-cheek action. It was so much easier in France, where I got it right 95% of the time.
Isn’t that the truth? I could list my top friends and the greetings are all slightly different. I like to think of it as ‘tailored’. With close American friends, I’ll do the ‘half hug/no kiss’ variation. Once when with some air kissers (who we both air kiss without thinking twice), a fellow American and I ended up following suit; I could tell by the slight hesitancy that we both felt a bit reserved, acknowledging that we probably wouldn’t have done that under other circumstances. And guess what? We survived.
I never really thought about physical touch & gestures that much before. But I think what you describe is very much the case – even if I did not really pay attention to it, gestures from countries visited have sneaked into my behaviour too.
I think though, that regardless of wherever you are – a baby is a great universal ice breaker. And if it allows you to achieve glimpses into the culture of your new home much faster than without baby.
Great post & great blog you have Erica!
Welcome and thanks for checking it out. Sometimes the little things seep into our subconscious until someone points them out. Erica did write a great post, didn’t she? I’m really pleased that all four of our NSEW posts captured such a range of physical cultural differences.
Living and driving in Turkey, I developed the same ease for sounding the horn that the Turks have. Whenever I am now driving somewhere other than Turkey I have to actively remember not to be so horn-happy, as I get some awful looks!
Oh yeah, I’m sure it’s needed in Turkey but wouldn’t go over very well here in The Netherlands. In the US if someone zoned out at a traffic light, you’d give a quick tap to indicate ‘hello, everything okay?’. Only the obnoxious would lay on the horn, but unfortunately you had always had a few. I recall in Mexico you tapped the horn when rounding blind curves on mountainsides. Again, very useful. Love your site, especially being greeted by the sight of Mont St. Michel!
The honking! (Or in my situation the bell ringing because I bike rather than drive.) It’s a continual source of social gaffs for me. I’m used to giving a friendly ding ding to warn pedestrians of my impending approach so as not to startle them when I whizz past. And I’ve gotten numerous angry glares and a few muttered curses (which in Japan is really something), and always wondered what I was doing wrong. turns out that is the hight of rudeness here. Oh well. Live and learn.
Among Turks the whole double kiss thing is generally gender specific – men kiss men, women kiss women. Expats, on the other hand, kiss everyone. I’ve embraced this despite growing up in stiff upper lip Blighty where ostentious greetings beyond a firm handshake was considered a bit fey – something the French did along with eating garlic.
Can’t say I know many Dutch men that I’d be air kissing, unfortunately. For example, a couple of our neighbors are used to dealing with expats so adjust their greetings/behavior accordingly. No kisses.
LOVE! Beautifully written. This made me feel rather sentimental for the subtle ‘Canadianisms’ that stay with us, and our acquired Asian behaviors, like bowing slightly when greeting someone older. I look forward to more posts bloggers….monsoon season has made me a ‘stay in home’ mom rather than a stay at home type.
Thanks Mary, I thought Erica did a lovely job, too. Glad you enjoyed it.
Erica, brilliant writing, really. Wow! So cohesive and the concept of physical souvenirs is new but very interesting to me. Love these honest glimpses into such an incredible life and family.