The Fourteenth of July

To most people, the date refers to Bastille Day, but for me it has a very different, personal significance. Forty-six years ago today I arrived in Santiago, Chile, to be with my then boyfriend, Santiago, now my husband.  And I’m still here. That day I never imagined that I’d be spending almost my entire adult life here, more years that I lived in the States. I was just living the moment.

    Yesterday I chatted with an American friend here, who also hadn’t expected to be living over two decades in Chile. I threw out this question to her: what is the difference between an expat and an immigrant? Why are we considered “expats?” Is it because we are light-skinned and speak English? Is it due to our reasons for coming here (not fleeing violence or hardships)?

    Most of us “expats” feel like we’ve lost something and feel an ever-present nostalgia within. But to come to terms we also know the importance of identifying and appreciating what we’ve gained: new perspectives, different cultural values, thinking and expressing oneself in a different language. Over the years I’ve come to realize that a sense of place, this place, has grown within me. As I traveled north and south, I learned to identify local birds and their songs, and flowers and trees and their fragrances, unique to the varying landscapes. I miss the rich natural world of my California home, but have learned the importance of bonding with this Chilean landscape where I find myself. Big city living does not make this easy. I must work at it: appreciating the light and shadows on the slopes and peaks of the Andes, planting shrubs and trees pleasing to bees in my garden, scattering crumbs for the birds, noticing the fall colors and the purple glow emanating from flowering jacarandas in spring.

jacaranda tree

    My Scottish great-uncle, Robert, immigrated to Chile with his wife, Elizabeth, in the 1800’s to settle in Valparaiso. I wonder what her “expat-immigrant” life was like. What means did she use to adapt? After several years, our youngest son recently returned to Chile with his American girlfriend. A repeat act. This globalized world will make her adaptation experience different from mine or Elizabeth’s. Yet she is still far from her family and must adjust to speaking and understanding a new language, perhaps the greatest difficulties of all, true whether you’re an expat or an immigrant anywhere in this world.