How to do cross-cultural transitions right: Build a “RAFT”

Moving cross-culturally is a lot of things, but one thing it isn’t is easy. You leave behind siblings, nephews and nieces, parents and grandparents, and friends, plus places and things infused with memories and meaning, like the house where you grew up and park where you proposed.

We did that once, the first time we moved to Asia. After three years we returned to Canada to have our first child, and then we did it again. After another two years in China we returned to Canada a second time for the birth of our second child. And now we’re back in China for the third time.

The return trips to China after each birth were harder than the first time we left. Taking your children away from their grandparents, uncles and aunts and cousins, Sunday school friends (never mind all the grass and trees and oceans and lakes and air) hurts.

You realize more what you’re doing when you’re also doing it to your kid.

There’re others you leave behind, too: coworkers, people you don’t like, people you have a grudge against. And there’s the nasty bonus surprise: returning to your culture of origin (like our friend Rob) after a long time away is often harder than leaving your original home ever was in the first place. Not only are you leaving behind so many friends and places and memories, but “home” has changed since you left, and so have you, and it won’t feel the same. Much of the familiarity you’re expectantly anticipating never materializes. But this post isn’t about entry or re-entry; it’s about leaving.

Regardless of which direction you’re going, the experience of leaving so much behind is huge whether you take the time to acknowledge it or not. And how you leave it can have a big impact on you personal development, on the kind of people you and your lover and your kids are becoming. This experience impacts all of you, and some ways of intentionally navigating the experience are healthier than others.

We received some great advice about how to do cross-cultural transitions before our most recent move back to China, advice we tried out a little bit in the months before we left, and we think it’s worth sharing. I wish we’d put more of it into practice than we did. It’s called “building a R.A.F.T.” and comes from chapter 13 of Third Culture Kids by David C. Pollock and Ruth E. Van Reken (pages 200-204 in our 2001 edition). Below is my summary/paraphrase/riff of what they wrote.

Building a R.A.F.T.

You’ll see quickly that this process takes some forethought and planning ahead; put it off ’til the last two weeks and you’ll likely not have enough opportunities. You’ll also notice that it’s something for every family member to do, not just the adults.

Reconciliation
Closure matters. Festering bitterness matters. Making peace matters. Emotional baggage matters. Guilt and regrets matter. Forgiving and being forgiven matter, and that’s what reconciliation is all about. Reconciliation means growing up. It means attempting to communicate hurts and forgiveness, and initiate apologies.

A cross-cultural move presents a tempting cop-out: to run away and ignore strained or broken relationships. But refusing to resolve interpersonal conflicts sabotages healthy closure, and this lack of reconciliation sabotages the rest of your “RAFT” — the rest of your transition and entry/re-entry experience. You can’t really move away from these kinds of difficulties anyway; you’ll carry the emotional baggage of unresolved problems with you. Bitterness is unhealthy, unresolved relational issues can interfere with new relationships, and if/when you eventually move back, those problems will still be there, and they’ll be even harder to resolve.

A cross-cultural move also provides a great excuse, if you need one, for attempting to make peace: “Hey, I’m leaving for China for who knows how long, and I don’t want to leave a mess between us…” or however you need to do it.

You can’t always achieve reconciliation, of course, because it takes two willing parties. But you can always attempt it, and at least own up to the part of the relationship you’re responsible for. In our recent personal experience we found that the attempt is worth it whether the other side engages or not.

Affirmation
Think through your list of friends, coworkers, supervisors, neighbours, classmates. Do more than just say goodbye. Affirm people; let them know you respect and appreciate them, acknowledge that they matter. This is good for them and for you: it strengthens your relationships into the future and makes you more aware of what you’ve gained from living in the place you’re leaving. Pollock and Van Reken illustrate with some examples:

  • Make time to tell coworkers that you enjoyed working with them.
  • Tell friends how their friendship has been important, and maybe leave them some sort of memento.
  • Send a note and small gift to neighbours, mentioning positive things about your interactions with them.
  • Reassure those close to you of your love for them and that you don’t leave them lightly. Order flowers for the day after you leave.

Affirmation helps with closure by acknowledging the blessings you have in the form of relationships, and mourning their passing.

Farewells
Making farewells to people, places, and possessions helps avoid deep regrets later. Schedule ahead so that you won’t end up missing anyone or anywhere or any thing that was in any way significant, and make a real ‘official’ farewell to each. It’s a time to acknowledge all the positive things and feelings, and acknowledge that it’s sad to leave each person and thing behind.

People - this is crucial, even more so for children, who will need guidance. You want to say and do something, make some sort of gesture like baking cookies or writing a note, that acknowledges the importance of that person to you, expresses thanks, and lets them know they will be missed.

Some sort of “rite of passage” ritual often accompanies major life transitions like graduation or retirement parties. Taking the time to do something similar in spirit creates a significant memory acknowledging the importance of a person or place, and helps face and process the fact that you’re leaving them.

Places - Visit emotionally significant sites to reminisce and say goodbye. Everything from the tree you loved climbing to the park where you got engaged. Some people plant a tree, or hide some little treasure that they could dig up later if they ever return. The point is to openly acknowledge the time as a true goodbye, admitting that the stage of life these places represent will soon be in the past.

Possessions - You have to leave a lot of stuff behind in international moves. Certainly, adults and kids have to learn about letting go, and we all have too much stuff anyway, but everyone should talk over what to take and what to leave behind. It’s also important to deliberately choose and take what become “sacred objects”, a slowly growing collection of physical objects that connect the different places and stages of your life. When important objects must be left behind, try giving them as gifts to a friend and taking photographs. Jessica and I have a Christmas tree ornament (or something we use as one) from most of the significant places in our life together. Every year we can remember.

In addition to all her teachers and ‘aunties’ and ‘uncles’, we had our three-year-old say good-bye to her classrooms, playground, the lake where she swam all summer, places we visited regularly, her bedrooms, toys she was leaving behind, parks we often walked in, and a bunch of other stuff. And we took pictures of it all. This gave us plenty of opportunity to verbalize what was happening then and later after we’d returned to China. It helped all of us put words to the experience and mourn all that we were losing in a healthy way.

Think Destination
During the goodbye process, start shifting gears mentally, reorienting your thinking to the near future: you’re arrival and adjustment in a new place. Think realistically: identify positives and negatives and differences about your destination. List problems you’ll likely encounter. Make a list of your coping resources, both external (finances, support people you can lean on) and internal (your ability and methods of dealing with the stress of change).

Thinking ahead and identifying these things helps make the transition much less rockier than it could be. Forming realistic expectations helps avoid disappointment (from too high expectations) and makes sure you don’t miss out on available resources (due to too low expectations). You aren’t mentally and emotionally leaving so much behind in order to go nowhere; every step away from what you’re leaving can be a step toward what you’re gaining.

Related stuff:

Robert Munsch’s “I Have to Go!” in Chinese

We translated Robert Munsch‘s classic potty story “I Have to Go!” for ourselves and had our Chinese tutor correct it.

You can download this PDF with the full Chinese and pīnyīn. Below is a mouseover-able excerpt. Buy the book to see the English.

Suggestions for improvement are welcome!

尿尿!》

Page 1
有一天安德鲁爸爸妈妈爷爷奶奶他们上车之前妈妈:“安德鲁尿尿?”

安德鲁:“。”

爸爸缓慢清楚一遍:“安德鲁尿尿?”

,” 安德鲁。“决定再也不尿尿。”

Page 2
于是他们安德鲁上车系上他的安全带很多玩具蜡笔然后上走——~~。他们分钟安德鲁:“尿尿!”

哎呦,”爸爸

哎呀,”妈妈

Page 3
接着爸爸,“安德鲁分钟分钟以后我们加油站可以那里尿尿。”

安德鲁:“现在尿尿!”

于是妈妈——~~。安德鲁灌木丛后边尿

Download: WoYaoNiaoniao.pdf

More Chinese bedtime stories:

The Peace of Spring Festival (is over)

Peace is not an association anyone has with Chinese New Year in China. Insane amounts of fireworks for days and nights on end is what people associate with Spring Festival in China. And forget that stereotype of the quiet, mild-mannered Chinaman. China is loud. Chinese are loud. But let me explain.

Fireworks aside (I know, it’s a big ‘aside’), our neighbourhood was silent until today. Because so many people were gone back to their hometowns. They say 9.5 million people left Beijing for the holidays. Our neighbourhood was like a miniature version of that. The place felt virtually empty. All week there’ve been no cars honking. No people yelling outside our windows. Almost like Canada.

But our napping daughters were just woken up by both honking and people yelling. And then I remembered: today is the day most people go back to work. The neighbours have returned. All the extra fireworks this morning were businesses opening. Spring Festival continues but the holiday is over. And so is naptime, at least for today.

Born Expat

Here’s an interesting first-person piece about being a TCK (third-culture kid), or, as this Taiwan-raised Canadian prefers to say, being “born expat.”

Born Expat
“The value for me, then, of being Born Expat is not to perpetually live abroad, nor to only hang out with other expats. . .but to be able to locate the source of my cultural and emotional identity. It is good to know why I am different, and to be at peace with my differences. I still don’t understand what it means to be Canadian. I don’t think I ever will, but thankfully I am no longer trying so hard to fit in. I can embrace my Taiwanese half.

“I am an expat. This is my culture. This is enough.”

Mommy Wars: foreign moms vs. Chinese ayis

Conventional wisdom says that politics and religion don’t make polite small talk topics — they’re too contentious and people routinely fail to disagree respectfully. But there’s a third equally volatile, if perhaps overlooked, small talk landmine: parenting. And if you thought the disparity of good parenting opinions was wide among foreigners, imagine the scathing looks of scandal and judgment exchanged between foreign mothers and Chinese ayis across the preschool classroom. You can read a sample here: Everything is Dangerous: Taking care of children in China.

Foreign mothers and ayis generally make no attempt to talk to one another. During the slightly calmer snack break, ayis congregate around the table of children eating to keep a constant vigil as the mothers retreat to the back walls for a hard-earned chat with their girlfriends. The resentment is clear from both the ayi and the Chinese teachers, who delight in any chance to scoop up the plate of a fumbling child or help push in a chair, all the while staring daggers at the negligent chatting mothers. It was abundantly clear what was on their mind: they were doing it right, and we Westerners had a lot to learn. And maybe, in a way, they were right.

Parenting differences between Chinese and foreigners routinely generate loads of mutual amusement and scandal. Here’s a few of our own amusing experiences:

蚯蚓的日记 – Diary of a Worm – qiūyǐnde rìjì

I back-translated 蚯蚓的日记 (originally Diary of a Worm) as a language learning exercise, and decided after all that work to share it here online.

But first: You can purchase the original English version here.

Second: You have two options for reading along in English, 汉字, or pīnyīn:

  • Download the cheatsheet (PDF) for reference if you get stumped on the Chinese in the images.
  • The text (English, 汉字, pīnyīn) for each page is also in the captions at the bottom of each image, but it’s ugly and messy and I don’t have time to make it better. I suggest the cheatsheet, unless you don’t think you’ll need it.

Third: Does anyone have a better translation for “我的排便日记”? I went with “My Pooping Diary” after a coworker suggested “My Defecation Diary.” It’s the title of one of the books in the worm’s homework pile in image #27. I’ve never seen the original English text.

You can leave comments at the bottom of this page (please point out mistakes if you see them!). Click a thumbnail to start the slideshow.

[***This is for Chinese language learning purposes only and strictly non-commercial. If the author, illustrator, translator, or publisher has a problem, please just let us know -- e-mail: joel at chinahopelive.net -- and we'll take it offline it immediately.***]