Being an Expat in Ireland, Amsterdam, Mexico
Mexico is the only foreign country where Barry and I have bought a home, but it is not the only country where we considered living, and stayed for several months to try it out. I have been musing about our experiences living in different cultures and why I'm happy that in the end we chose Mexico.
In 1999, we spent four months in Ireland: two months bicycling the West Coast and two months renting an apartment in Clifden, one of the towns we had visited while cycling, a village about 50 miles west of Galway. Our apartment on the "High Street," which we rented from Eileen, the butcher's wife, had a view of the ocean. Almost every afternoon we would go on a beautiful bike ride along the Sky Road or the Bog Road, beneath the majestic Connemara mountains. We joined a writers' group, I went to a 12-step meeting, we hung out at cafes, we invited people over for drinks or meals-- in other words, we planted the seeds to nurture friendships, but the friendships themselves did not grow. We began to wonder if the historic clannishness of Ireland still had a modern-day form. When the November rains arrived in full force, we decided it was time to leave. We were glad we had savored the many beauties of Ireland, but it was never a place where we thought of actually settling. Of course, we were in a small, remote village; maybe things might have been different in a larger town.
In 2005, we spent three months in Amsterdam, first house-sitting for friends while they went on vacation, then subletting apartments. Our friends helped us get started by introducing us to a few of their friends. I went to professional women's networking events and writers' groups. I joined a gym and tried to get to know my Pilates teacher, who I made a good connection with, but she was busy and not available much. I contacted every referral I had, even the more remote ones. But once again, we didn't find it easy to make friends. We found the Dutch politically liberal, but not particularly open to strangers. I thought it might be because we were American, but a Danish woman told me she had had trouble fitting in as well. I felt intimidated at times by the brusqueness I experienced--most of the people we met seemed efficient, self-contained, busy, and impatient if you didn't get to your point right away. Once again, Amsterdam was a beautiful city to explore, but it never felt like a place to settle.
Meanwhile, both countries were expensive, cold, and wet. That too had an impact. Barry and I love to be outdoors and don't want to huddle next to a gas fire (racking up huge heating bills) for months on end.
We had already visited Guanajuato when we lived in Ireland and the Netherlands, but had never considered buying a home here. Now that we have, I ponder why Mexico feels so "right." In some ways, we aren't a particularly good fit with Mexican culture. We don't like crowds, we aren't fans of loud music, we don't stay up late, we don't dance a lot, and despite our ongoing efforts, we still struggle to understand Spanish.
But the warmth of the Mexican people is a powerful factor. People are kind, patient, and forgiving. Despite the poverty level here, Mexicans are, according to one study, among the happiest people on the planet. We find them welcoming to foreigners. They may resent our government, but they have never showed resentment to us.
Psychologically, I feel in some ways closer to Mexican culture than that of Ireland or the Netherlands. Perhaps it's because we're on the same continent; perhaps because of living in California, with its large numbers of Latinos... I'm not sure why. Geographically we're positioned on a north-south axis rather than an east-west one. We are only two time zones away from California rather than the five, had we moved to Europe. I'm happy that we are no further away from my family members here than in Eureka. I like feeling accessible and close.
And of course, the fact that Mexico is much more affordable than Europe, and has great weather--you can't argue with those.
In 1999, we spent four months in Ireland: two months bicycling the West Coast and two months renting an apartment in Clifden, one of the towns we had visited while cycling, a village about 50 miles west of Galway. Our apartment on the "High Street," which we rented from Eileen, the butcher's wife, had a view of the ocean. Almost every afternoon we would go on a beautiful bike ride along the Sky Road or the Bog Road, beneath the majestic Connemara mountains. We joined a writers' group, I went to a 12-step meeting, we hung out at cafes, we invited people over for drinks or meals-- in other words, we planted the seeds to nurture friendships, but the friendships themselves did not grow. We began to wonder if the historic clannishness of Ireland still had a modern-day form. When the November rains arrived in full force, we decided it was time to leave. We were glad we had savored the many beauties of Ireland, but it was never a place where we thought of actually settling. Of course, we were in a small, remote village; maybe things might have been different in a larger town.
In 2005, we spent three months in Amsterdam, first house-sitting for friends while they went on vacation, then subletting apartments. Our friends helped us get started by introducing us to a few of their friends. I went to professional women's networking events and writers' groups. I joined a gym and tried to get to know my Pilates teacher, who I made a good connection with, but she was busy and not available much. I contacted every referral I had, even the more remote ones. But once again, we didn't find it easy to make friends. We found the Dutch politically liberal, but not particularly open to strangers. I thought it might be because we were American, but a Danish woman told me she had had trouble fitting in as well. I felt intimidated at times by the brusqueness I experienced--most of the people we met seemed efficient, self-contained, busy, and impatient if you didn't get to your point right away. Once again, Amsterdam was a beautiful city to explore, but it never felt like a place to settle.
Meanwhile, both countries were expensive, cold, and wet. That too had an impact. Barry and I love to be outdoors and don't want to huddle next to a gas fire (racking up huge heating bills) for months on end.
We had already visited Guanajuato when we lived in Ireland and the Netherlands, but had never considered buying a home here. Now that we have, I ponder why Mexico feels so "right." In some ways, we aren't a particularly good fit with Mexican culture. We don't like crowds, we aren't fans of loud music, we don't stay up late, we don't dance a lot, and despite our ongoing efforts, we still struggle to understand Spanish.
But the warmth of the Mexican people is a powerful factor. People are kind, patient, and forgiving. Despite the poverty level here, Mexicans are, according to one study, among the happiest people on the planet. We find them welcoming to foreigners. They may resent our government, but they have never showed resentment to us.
Psychologically, I feel in some ways closer to Mexican culture than that of Ireland or the Netherlands. Perhaps it's because we're on the same continent; perhaps because of living in California, with its large numbers of Latinos... I'm not sure why. Geographically we're positioned on a north-south axis rather than an east-west one. We are only two time zones away from California rather than the five, had we moved to Europe. I'm happy that we are no further away from my family members here than in Eureka. I like feeling accessible and close.
And of course, the fact that Mexico is much more affordable than Europe, and has great weather--you can't argue with those.
posted by Louisa at 4:26 AM
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