Growing up in and around London, I had some grasp of the difficulties people experience when they change cultures and emigrate to the UK. Having lived in France for a year, I think my understanding has grown a little.
I am not thinking about the impact of racism or xenophobia – although attitudes towards ‘les Anglais’ are complex, nuanced and shaped by historical events – but I am thinking about the small things of everyday life.
First there is an overwhelming sense of being somewhere foreign. The language is different, the customs are different and the institutions run in a different way. Often the most disorienting experiences are when a difference that you don’t expect jumps up and slaps you round the face – for me, the most alarming was the totally different style of language teaching. It was my only incident (so far) of total meltdown.
Language, of course, is key. My partner understands and speaks French at a very high level – higher than many French university students. However, when she returns to our home, she is desperate to speak English – her native tongue.
It is not that she dislikes speaking French, refuses to integrate into French society or chooses to disrespect France in any way. Simply, speaking English allows her to express herself with ease and to express exactly what she means and feels without any risk of being misunderstood.
Some French philosophers of language have railed against youth culture and its “corruption” of the true French language. They claim that one can only truly express one’s true self and be a fully-developed human being if you speak French properly, using all the tenses and grammar correctly.
Although I think their argument is elitist and reactionary tosh used in this context, I do think it gives some insight for those living in a country where they do not speak the native tongue. I have felt a huge frustration in not being able to express myself and my ideas to the people I have met. They have not seen or heard the real me.
I can understand how people living in a foreign country can become isolated, depressed and submerge themselves in familiar customs and pastimes from home. This is particularly true for those who haven’t travelled to work or study – those, like me, who are ‘the housewife’.
At all times, it was important for me to put my experience in perspective, to focus on the excitement and opportunities of my year away and to remember that it was just a year. If we had been staying permanently, I would have had to form different expectations and done things differently – like regular work or volunteering.
We chose to spend time with mainly French people. However, when we did meet others from the English-speaking world, I could understand how mixing with others with similar origins becomes an opportunity for immigrant people to rediscover their true selves – a feeling of liberation, mixed in with the sadness and sense of loss that one gets with nostalgia.
Another specific factor for me was having a long-term health condition. Although France has a magnificent health system, it was an unfamiliar one. I believed that I would be well looked after (and I have been), but I was always plagued with the anxiety that something would go wrong and I wouldn’t know how to access the help or advice I needed. That suddenly one of those unexpected differences would rear its ugly head and throw everything into chaos.
Throughout the year, I have had glimpses of how the experience of living in a foreign country could turn into a negative and self-destructive one. Loss of familiarity, belonging and identity is depressing and can turn into an alienation from society and a contempt for these different ways and of the local people.
It’s a sad, but understandable process – whether you’re someone come to work in the UK or a British ‘ex-pat’ gone to retire in Spain or work in some far-flung corner of a former empire.
I think I brought with me some skills that helped me profit from the year and avoid the negativity. Language was not one of them – although a higher level of French would have really helped!
A level of self-awareness and constructive self-criticism was useful to continually re-adjust and re-focus as time went on – because everything changes all the time.
I am quite experienced at setting myself goals and coming up with achievable small steps to reach those goals. Again, with everything changing all the time, small steps are what work – or not, and that’s where the self-awareness comes in to readjust those steps and goals.
Eventually, I devised a routine that, although I wasn’t working, meant that I was using my time productively with a good mix of going out, staying in, physical activities, mental activities and creativity. Without overstretching my rather fragile body, of course.
When I look back on the year one achievement was to survive a year in France, but I achieved a lot of other things too.
At the moment, I believe that I am managing my Crohn’s disease better than I ever have done before, something that is very pleasing. However, I am just a little anxious that I will struggle to take this achievement back to the UK with me.
I need to remember that there will be some reverse culture shock when I return – but I have shown I have the skills and temperament to overcome that. There will not be the issue of language and, for that, I am hugely relieved.
