This is too good not to reblog.
More than most, I’ve worked far away in different countries from my family. I could do it well but I never found it easy. It was always hard. Foreign lands, foreign people I suppose, ultimately foreign words in foreign languages and all that it comes down to is you, a stranger lost in a strange land, to echo A.E. Housman.
They converse with you, you talk back, and after a while because you know how to fit in and have a facility with words, you start to dream in their language and that’s sort of okay. It’s just dreamtime, only temporary and you’re just surfing in a wobbly way.
Your first impulses, never mind your gestures, gradually become culturally perfect and you begin to suspect you might never quite make it back home. The cuckoo in the nest starts digging in good and proper, deeper in than any Alabama tick as they say. You’ve gone native…
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