Ex-Pat's get their new life in their new country in order. They learn to live without the usual support system of family and age old friends, and make new connections. I have learned to love my time alone. In fact, I rarely get enough alone time. I could spend weeks reading, writing, photographing, and wandering about without a word to anyone but the cats I think. But there is one time I feel lonely. It's when the Ex-Pat crash hits.
The Ex-Pat crash happens when you have guests. The people who come to visit you are family or friends from a place ago or two. They bring with them the chaos and excitement of exploring the new place together, and the memories of friendship from a whole other place. It's more like your old life showing up on the doorstep for a week or two than just a person visiting. It's awesome, but then at the speed of a jet engine, it all goes away just when you were getting used to it all again. As the plane pulls out the gate, you realize your friend/family and that old life have left you here and it's just you again. If you have ever moved, it feels like the first night in your new room. The quiet suddenly is a presence.
We had lunch with a coworker while Siobhan was here, and mentioned we needed to do a trip to see another ex-Bermy friend over in the middle east. "What is it with the Bermuda connection?" the coworker asked, wondering what compels us all to travel internationally to meet up for a weekend or a week wherever whenever we can. What it is is the Ex-Pat community. You end up somewhere new, far away from the people who you could normally rely on to share a meal, see a movie, grab a coffee, or lend a hand. Christmas dinner may be with other travellers on a beach. You always have in common the fact that you are kinda all on you own. You spend holidays with them, share laughs and dreams. Your friends are a family, and in the ex-pat world, they become the only family you have easy access to. I am in daily contact with people who shared my time on that tiny island. And I hope it never changes. That's the ex-pat connection.
As I drove Siobhan back to the airport and I mentioned dreading the quiet back home, she knew exactly what it meant and said, "I know, I hate how empty it feels when guests go," referring back to her time in Bermuda. And halfway around the world I saw another friend formerly of Bermuda post about how sad an evening it would be with just a stray kitten after dropping his guests at the airport as well. I call it the Ex-Pat Crash, and it's real. The good news is it's neither terminal nor permanent. Just temporarily unsettling. The low after the high of a wonderful visit. And tomorrow is always a new day.
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