You know you’re a TCK when ..

And to round up my previous post, a list of 31 points on how to know if you are a TCK. I found it on one of the websites and had a good laugh reading it. It hold true for me in 28 points.

- “Where are you from?” has more than one reasonable answer.

- You flew before you could walk.

- You speak two languages, but can’t spell in either.

- You feel odd being in the ethnic majority.

- You have a passport but no driver’s license.

- You go into culture shock upon returning to your “home” country.

- Your life story uses the phrase “Then we moved to…” three (or four, or five…) times.

- You wince when people mispronounce foreign words.

- You don’t know whether to write the date as day/month/year, month/day/year, or some variation thereof.

- You think VISA is a document that’s stamped in your passport, not a plastic card you carry in your wallet.

- You own personal appliances with 3 types of plugs, know the difference between 110 and 220 volts, 50 and 60 cycle current, and realize that a trasnsformer isn’t always enough to make your appliances work.

- You fried a number of appliances during the learning process.

- Half of your phone calls are unintelligible to those around you.

- You believe vehemently that football is played with a round, spotted ball.

- You consider a city 500 miles away “very close.”

- You get homesick reading National Geographic.

- You cruise the Internet looking for fonts that can support foreign alphabets.

- Your minor is a foreign language you already speak.

- When asked a question in a certain language, you’ve absentmindedly respond in a different one.

- You miss the subtitles when you see the latest movie.

- You speak with authority on the subject of airline travel.

- You have frequent flyer accounts on multiple airlines.

- You constantly want to use said frequent flyer accounts to travel to new places.

- You know how to pack.

- You have the urge to move to a new country every couple of years.

- The thought of sending your (hypothetical) kids to public school scares you, while the thought of letting them fly alone doesn’t at all.

- You think that high school reunions are all but impossible.

- You have friends from 29 different countries.

- You sort your friends by continent.

- You have a time zone map next to your telephone.

- You realize what a small world it is, after all.

A few changes

I haven't been writing, I know. Things have been a little busy lately... But during the last month I had an interesting realization concerning the blog. 
I kept wondering what the whole blog was about. It was just me scribbling some random thoughts on my travels, and places I have lived, and culture, and cultural differences. All interesting topics, but I could not find a common denominator other than myself. But then I came across this thing called TCKs, Third Culture Kids, and I realized that is EXACTLY what the blog is about.
So what is a TCK? It is "someone who, as a child, has spent a significant period of time in one or more culture(s) other than his or her own, thus integrating elements of those cultures and their own birth culture, into a third culture." I won't go into all the details about being a TCK now, but you will get the picture from reading this blog. And if you crave some quick knowledge there is always wikipedia, an online TCK community, online classes for TCKs, and a really great book.

A TCK is still human

A quite personal article in a webzine for TCKs (Third Culture Kids).

The girl writes about how she almost lost the ability to feel connected to people. It's a typical syndrome for TCKs. Good for her that she managed to overcome it.

Follow to the article:
"A TCK is still human"

You have been too long in Korea when... (alcohol)

... when you start turning your head away from the table when drinking alcohol with elders.
... when you hold up your glass with two hands when someone older wants to pour you more alcohol.

No kidding. That's the 'polite' behavior in Korea.
When drinking with elders and somebody wants to pour you alcohol (and you cannot pour alcohol for yourself. never.) you first hold up your glass with two hands (never one. that is disrespectful.) and the elder pours you a drink. Then you wait for the cheers (at least during the first round).
While drinking you hold your glass with two hands, turn your head away from the elders, and drink. When an elder sits at your right, you turn left. When you have two elders at both your sides you turn completely, or you 'hide' the drinking with your hands.
With friends you can use one hand, unless they are older, then at least in the beginning use two hands. But never pour alcohol for yourself on your own. Never.

On my first evening back home after Korea, I actually did it during dinner with my parents. I was so tired after the long flight that I wasn't thinking much and we were drinking wine... That was a little embarrassing, but caused lot's of laughter.

To see what I mean, watch the video from 2:46. You got it all shown there ^^~

On Regret

My big sister... wait, well... I don't really have one, but I have a friend, who is just like a big sister to me, so I think of her that way.
Anyways, my big sister send me a beautiful e-mail recently (all her e-mails are pretty awesome tbh), in which she writes about decision making (yeah, it's connected to this post).
Without much further ado, a quote on 'regret':


"And as for regret, I think it's a matter of our mindset. I don't think we should regret anything that's happened in our life, anything that we have choosen. It's best to focus on being grateful for all the good and so called bad."

To sum up...

To sum up my previous post :
(English translation bellow the picture)
haha, found the English original!

The choices of a nomad

If you live everywhere, home is nowhere.
I miss having one cupboard with all my clothes in it, I miss having all my books in one place, I miss not having to jet each Christmas and Easter back to where my parents live. But things are just things, worst is missing the people.
In my life skype is more important than the mobile phone. But it's hard to keep up on everything through skype. It makes me feel like I am always the audience, never part of anything, as if the real life was passing me by. People fall in and out of love, graduate, get engaged, pregnant, celebrate b-days, get sick and healthy again, and I am never part of it.
So what keeps me going? Ambitions and restlessness. But I think I'm getting old (lol), I find it harder and harder to let go of the ties. The life of a nomad is no easy life. People may think that there is a lot to envy, but truth to be told, being a nomad feels like standing outside on a rainy day, watching the cozy lights behind the glass windows.
I think I got to the point where I am no longer willing to sacrifice my personal life (because that's how it ultimately feels like) in order to satisfy crazy ambitions. Likewise, I am not yet ready to trade a childhood dream for the pursuit of a home. The latter possibility feels like trading a bird in the hand for the two in the bush. It's like relying on dubious luck and I was never big on taking chances.
Right now I want everything. EVERYTHING!! I am not willing on giving up anything, neither my friends, my family, the handsome guy who is waiting somewhere, a cupboard with all my clothes and all my books, nor the travels, the thrill of living in new places, my ambitions, a degree at the most awesome university.
What to do? What to do? Think, think, think...

The cities I love: Warsaw, Time Lapse 2

Warsaw once again, this time in winter.
Notice how the dog barks when the policemen show up. In Poland one of the names for police is 'psy', meaning dogs. It's not a very nice name to call them, but I thought it funny nevertheless.

So which Time Lapse of Warsaw do you like better?

I prefer the soundtrack in this one, it matches my picture of Warsaw, but the other shows the city more like I see it and I think the execution is better in the first one too.

Enjoy:

The cities I love: Warsaw, Time Lapse

I like Warsaw. We are past the infatuation, there are no more sparks, but there are fireworks each year on New Years. I wasn't always fond of Warsaw, but the city grew on me.
I was born few years before the fall of the Berlin Wall and I still remember the dull gray post-socialistic feel of the city. I probably wouldn't have known a different world existed, but in my young years we moved to the south of Germany, so I was aware of what life could be and what it wasn't in Warsaw.
But now, a whole different city unfolds before my windows. It is a young, vibrant city, still looking for it's own identity, but already with a distinct feel to it. There is so much energy here, it's the young kind of energy spread by people, who want to make this place livable for themselves. New cafes, clubs, events pop up like mushrooms after the rain. There is still a lot to be done, but living in Warsaw is like playing Lego: nothing is decided, you can create your own reality.
I love Warsaw, how it changed, how it is now. I think we could grow old together.

So for all of you, who know none of Warsaw, here is my city:
(watch in big!!)



via

The cities I love: Seoul, Time Lapse

As mentioned before: I am madly in love with Seoul. It's a city where small alleys with little hanoks, traditional korean houses, go over into wide avenues with neon-lit skyscrapers; where newest high-tech mingles with ancient customs; where a buzzing city winds like a river around green hills, the perfect destination for a weekend hike. It's an unconditional love and I would change nothing about the city. I even came to accept the fact that the subway stops around 1AM, so you either have to pay for the taxi or crash a couch after a night out in Itaewon, Gangnam, or Hongdae, one of the party districts of Seoul.

So, for all of you, a sneak view of the city I am head over heels in love with.
(watch in full screen mode, looks better!!)


via

This post is brought to you by LOT

I jumped on the plane to Warsaw on Friday, my return ticket was booked for Sunday. Just three days, but it was about 150 Euro cheaper than staying even one day longer, so I decided to go nevertheless. (some day I will explain why weekend tickets are cheaper than the mon-fri tickets) Needless to say, I was starved for Warsaw. But, of course, the two nights in Warsaw were by far not enough to satisfy my hunger.
Yesterday I got to the airport in a rather sour mood - I didn't feel like going back. I did my rounds in the duty-free looking for a new summer scent to cheer myself up. And then came the announcement: Flight number such-and-such to Frankfurt, due to a late arrival of the aircraft, will be presumably delayed 2 hours.

that's the look I was going for

My first thought will have to remain censored. But after I calmed my irritation I decided to take advantage of the situation. I must have looked out of place standing there, with a cunning grin on my face, in the super long queue full of annoyed passengers. When, after 45 minutes, I got to the "connection flight" counter I put on the most sweet looking, innocent and scared look I could pull off. I explained to the lady that I had a very very VERY important call to make at 10PM and that if the plane took off 2 hours later I would never ever make it. And that I didn't care when I was flying, I just needed to make the call. But if it was possible to reschedule my flight, I would prefer to fly same time next Sunday, coz then my bf could pick me up from the airport on his way home.
10 minutes later I was walking out of the airport with a shiny new ticket to Frankfurt for next Sunday, for which I didn't have to pay any mark-up fees.
Thank you Polish Airlines LOT, you are the bestest (a pity the food sucks, tho)!



P.S.: Just to make it clear: I do not have a bf in Germany AND I didn't have to make any calls, but it seemed like not too weird a lie to tell, right?

P.P.S.: I seriously doubt the lady at the counter cared for my explanation. Good airlines have to provide high class service, after all that's why people choose them over the cheap airlines. I'm just glad that LOT turned out to be a good airline.

P.P.P.S.: Now it's official: LOT is better than BA!! (oh, yeah, there is a story to tell about BA, but for now I will just say that BA s**ks big time.)

P.P.P.P.S.: Don't think bad of me for telling a lie. I know it's a very awful thing to do, I was just so desperate to stay in Warsaw even one day longer...

Korean Army, the real deal

As you may or may not know, in South Korea all men go to the army for at least two years. There are no exceptions. But considering that the DMZ is an hour's ride from Seoul it is quite understandable. I have seen many friends leave for the army. Two years ago I said my good-byes to a particularly fine young man. He was the chubby, cuddly type of boy, so I was petrified the army would turn him into the muscle-macho you see all over Seoul. 

Today I got word that he is out. And I am pleased to tell you all, that according to my informant, he did not change a bit, maybe just got a bit more manly. He is even as chubby as before! Apparently his job in the army was ..... to turn the boiler on and off when others wanted to shower. So, after the half-a-year obligatory training he spent the remaining time pushing a button and reading books.

All I can say to this:

Proverbs

It's interesting how some expressions that you believe as distinct to your own culture can be found in other languages. Take: "Talking about the devil". Every language I have studied so far has this proverb, the only thing that varies is the so called "devil": in German, like in English, you also talk about the devil, in Polish it is the wolf, in Korean the tiger, and Chinese talk of Cao Cao, some warlord from very very long ago.

Every time I come across such a universal saying it makes me feel good. Those proverbs tell a lot about the universality of human thought...

Via

Emancipation

How far is too far, when it comes to emancipation? And when is the line crossed between emancipation and the sheer lack of manners?

Imagine a situation: a girl and a boy, strangers, show up in front of a door at the same time; the door is closed and they both want to go through. What do you expect to happen next?
Seriously, I am curious, what do you expect to happen next?

I will just say, that I never walked in so many closing doors as in my first couple of weeks in Germany. By now I brace myself for the coming danger and am sometimes pleasantly surprised, but I don't expect anything, anything. However, in Germany it is not the unwillingness to treat girls with a touch of good-old manners. I dare say that emancipation just went too far.

I think that in our times men feel insecure: they do not know how to treat those emancipated Helgas. Will they be accused of overprotectiveness if they want to walk a girl home? Will they be stung with an angry look if they let a girl pass in the doorway first? Will there be an embarrassed silence if they help a girl to put on her jacket?
But that it is neither entirely the girls fault. Back in the times of Scarlet O'Hara, all was simple and clear - everyone knew their role, had a ready response for small and grand gestures. But today? A man holding a girl's jacket stretched out in mid-air reminds rather of a matador than a well-bread gentleman. Putting on a stretched out jacket is no easy task either, believe me, it has to be learnt. But what if it wasn't learnt? A nervous giggle or a small tease will help to cover the lack of knowledge. A girl can always say: "oh, don't be silly, it is the 21st century!", grab the jacket and put it on herself. And the gentleman will remember. Who wouldn't if the pride was hurt? He will remember and make sure not to help any girl to any damn jacket in the future.
Oh, what a perfect world we have cooked for ourselves - a world where men and women are equal in all.

But was savoir-vivre about lack of equality, or to make the life more pleasant with the little gestures that have now been forgotten?

Why I hate Warsaw fashion

I do like fashion. A lot. But, to be honest, in Warsaw I am just too intimidated to wear what I like.

For the past 2 seasons beige and camel-colored pants with black blazers, oversized scarfs and oversized bags have been ruling the streets of Warsaw. Nothing against this classic casual chic, but c'mon if everyone is wearing exactly the same ZARA-style it all becomes a redundant blur. 

You see, Warsaw is a city that is only developing a fashion sense after the gray years of communism. 

The current Warsaw style lacks easiness, freedom and imagination. 

You rarely see people - fashionable people - wearing an outfit of 'just' two peaces (pants/jeans + t-shirt/shirt/pullover) and some accessories to make it all fun. When you see 'fashionable people' you see the time and sweat behind their outfits: the socks match the ribbon, which matches the color of the dots on the shirt, which matches the lipstick. 

I feel like puking whenever I see such over-styled specimen walking the streets.

But people think it's chic. 

They spend lot's of Zlots (the polish currency) on the same H&M outfits. And I think to myself that they completely miss the point. Those mass-replica can hardly say anything about individual character. Only in Korea, where it is socially (almost) unacceptable to posses ones own style, have I seen so much repetition as in Warsaw. A French girl, as you meet them on the streets of Paris, with outfits that may not be completely thought-through, but with lot's of character and inner beauty, would feel completely out of place in Warsaw. 

The Warsaw version of nonchalant is boring and pretentious. 

That is why I hate hate hate the fashion in Warsaw.

What's the difference between a Japanese and a Pole?

A conversation between a Japanese customer and a shop assistant, which took place in Tokyo 3 days after the earthquake, as related on the Polish news:

customer: I am sorry, would you be so kind as to tell me when there will be food again?

shop assistant: I am sorry, I do not know.

customer: I am very sorry to have bothered you.

shop assistant: I am very sorry not to be able to answer your question.

If Poland suffered from an earthquake, followed by a tsunami, followed by a nuclear catastrophe i imagine the situation would look a lot different. People wouldn't be queueing, nor talking politely to each-other. 

First, of course, the whole nation would be shaken, people would take to the streets, set up a cross in front of the presidential palace, pray for the dead, collect money for the living, and change their facebook profile pictures to black squares. Then the politicians would start quarreling over whose fault the catastrophe was. Then street-fights between pro-cross and anti-cross groups, as well as pro-cross groups and the police, would start over whether the cross in front of the presidential palace should stay or be moved elsewhere. Then an independent commission would be set up to investigate, whose fault the catastrophe was.
Oh wait... that actually happened, didn't it?

After having witnessed Poland overcome a crisis and now watching Japan, it amazes me with how much dignity and calmness Japanese deal with the tragedy. I do admire them. A lot. 

The cultural bridges

Yesterday I met with a couple of friends form the Chinese Department and I come to think that students of foreign cultures and languages all have a similar past.
We are being thrown into a completely different culture without any warning. The day you arrive there is when you realize, that neither Lu Xun, nor Empress Dowager Cixi will get you a mobile phone or help you with your groceries at the nearby market. If you are lucky you will stumble upon a few other exchange students; if not, you will be on your own - good luck then.
You have to learn a language, but not just learn how to look up words in the dictionary. Speaking a language means speaking culture, speaking gestures, speaking the unsaid.

Those without a tongue

I heard once a story about a russian polyglot, whose notes were written in all possible languages. He was accused of spying and sent to jail...
My notes are also rarely written in one language - usually it's three, sometimes five. I am what you call a polyglot, but truth is, I am tongueless.
In this globalized world of ours, there are more and more people without a language they can call their own. It is not a blessing, it is a curse. It is as if you were living in a room that is too small to hold you.
Each language has boundaries, when you think in different languages, you constantly cross barriers. However when three of the languages you speak are Polish, Chinese and Korean it is difficult to find someone, who can cross those barriers with you. Eventually you lose everyone. Eventually you lose even yourself.
Language is one of the things that defines us. Yet, each language has also a very distinct character. When you change the language you speak and think in, something changes in you - you become a little bit different. If you juggle with languages your personality becomes a spinning kaleidoscope.
If you do not own a language, which you can call your own, who are you then?

The caterpillar and the butterfly

There is a Japanese animated movie called Omohide Poro poro, meaning falling memories. This movie has little to do with the holly-jolly Disney movies most Europeans are used to - it is about a woman in her thirties, taking a holiday in the countryside. She is a typical Japanese women from the older generation: politely smiling, never emotional, very conscious about the needs of others. However during her trip she starts remembering the time when she was in 5^th grade: a selfish little brat, going through her first childhood-love, first big disappointment, or as she calls it: “the caterpillar stage”.

“At work and at play we girls were livelier and more spirited than boys. It was like we'd finally found our wings. But looking now back, maybe we were just flexing them pointlessly.”

You see that woman, a product of the society, and the passionate girl she has once been. And you see much more - you see the Japanese society as it has been in the 60's. But the movie does not just reproduce the picture of a traditional Asian society - it questions at the same time, and the main character also starts questioning.

“Perhaps the 5^th grade me was tagging along with a message for me to reflect and rethink my life.”

A few weeks ago I have been interviewed for Cambridge. When asked about what I like to do in my free time, I told the admissions lady about this movie. Call me crazy - who in their right mind talks about an animated movie during their interview for Economics at Cambridge - but I did and I got in.

I have applied to Cambridge already once before, that was 5 years ago. During that interview I didn't talk about anything that I was really passionate about, I just said what I thought they want me to say. Of course, back then, I didn't get in. I think everyone has to fall on their nose a few times in order to really understand who they are and where they are heading to. And to be able to stay true to themselves.

“Like it or not, a butterfly must first live as a caterpillar before it can fly away.”

[all the quotes are from the movie]

Umbrellas

Every country has it's own umbrella-habits.
In Korea most people have several umbrellas in different shapes, sizes and colors. Umbrellas are used in spring when it's drizzling, in summer when it's pouring, when the sun is shining in autumn, and the snow falling in winter.
Today it rained cats and dogs in Heidelberg, but there were few people with umbrellas on the streets and even fewer with umbrellas that wouldn't be black. And I missed the colorful patchwork of South Korean streets.