Day 9: Expat Syndrome

I usually try to keep it discreet, but today I come clean and admit that I suffer from regular bouts of Expat Syndrome (ES). This is not a post where I am likely to win a lot of friends or endear myself to very many of my readers, but it's a real condition, and I will tell you true stories of my affliction.

"Expat Syndrome is a condition whereby many expatriates see mostly either the best of their own nationality and the worst of the locals, or see the opposite." -T Crossley
(I had to Google around to learn that Tony Crossley is an Englishman in Thailand who writes about, apparently, Expat Syndrome, among other things)

In online expat forums, I notice a lot of ES flaring up, with Americans puffing up their chests and declaring the superiority of any number of American customs/products/mannerisms/even grammar. I suppose I have, at times, gone both directions with the ES symptoms, but mine is decidedly more pronounced on the "or see the opposite" side of the condition. It's triggered for me by certain buttons being pushed, and when it comes on full force, it feels like a fever, a rage, often coupled with an unflattering change to my countenance that I like to refer to as "getting my smugly on."

Some people may be particularly susceptible to this side of the disorder, particularly those who, like me, are a bit weak in the muscle of the heart and soul known as "patriotism." Patriotism is a concept I struggle with, and I sometimes find it curious how naturally it comes to so many of my countrymen. On the subject of the U.S.A., I feel that it is in quite a lot of ways an exceptional nation. Its foundation on the basis of individual freedom and the pursuit of happiness is just beyond cool. I mean that sincerely. There is, within the thing we call "the American character" an unparalleled sense of striving to do something bold, inventive, something hard, something that will change the world and make us wealthy beyond our wildest dreams. Furthermore, American is one heck of a gorgeous country, which happens to be full of friendly, effusive, generous people. I, however, did not do anything to create this; I was just lucky enough to be born there. I may just as easily have been born in Ukraine or Pakistan. Do I feel exceptionally fortunate? Oh, you had better believe it, friend. What I don't feel is proud. Proud, in my mind, implies that I did something. I'm proud that I was on the dean's list in college and proud that I earned a Master's degree. I'm proud that I lost 100 pounds one year, and that I'm an attentive mother, and sometimes I'm proud of things I write here. It's my feeling that I can be proud of things I've done, but I don't know how to be proud to "be."

This propensity of mine is probably part of the reason that I'm prone to narrowing in on "the worst" of my own country. Also, my tendencies fall on the more, ahem, liberal end of the spectrum, which I've found tends to align fairly closely with the Aussie mindset (yes ... I just went there).

I was going to try to explain what happens when my ES flares up and gets the better of me, but as all the good playwrights I've worked with can tell you, it's better if I show you.  It shows up on Facebook sometimes, and it looks  like this...

This one seems complimentary to the U.S., right?
Well, it is, but dig a little deeper and the implication is that America has not been "killin' it" prior to the "last 24 hours." And, even deeper, that "America" in this post is someone who is not me.
 It had to do with Wendy Davis' fillibuster and, if I recall, a favorable ruling on gay marriage laws.

Undoubtedly, if Facebook had a better search function for my timeline, I could dig up a dozen more, but maybe you're getting the idea. Sometimes, America makes me really, really angry. And sometimes, in relation, I think that Australia just has it all together.

In my more sensible moments, I remember that Australia is decidedly not perfect (hello, last election - definitely not a result that sits well with my lefty tendencies). ES is emotional, and knee-jerk, and precedes logic. It's worth noting that I don't get sick and in a fury over Australian politics, though there are issues here that ought to hit my weak spots, which suggests that my emotions are tied up with the concept of the U.S. more than Oz.

Maybe admitting it is the first step to curing my ES, but I"ll concede that I have a long way to go. I'm working on it, but it's nothing for me to be proud of, just yet.

Ready to read more expat blogs? Today, I'll point you in the direction of Melbourne where my fellow expat blog challenge, Cosette, writes Stumble Down Under. She's a transplant from Miami, and I love Cosette's unique perspective and smart blog. In addition to great writing, her blog is full of posts with excellent tips for travellers and expats.