Her blowdryer moment

Moving to Singapore brought with it a certain level of celebrity that was fun for each member of our family for a long time. Lillian in particular seemed to relish in letting people know she was leaving New York for a fabulous and far away country called Singapore. As a well-known member of her school community, Lillian really took the school by storm in letting them know she was off on a grand adventure. All through the months of waiting for the paperwork to be completed, that thrill of something new and the "oh wow!" that inevitably followed the explanation that we were moving to Singapore propelled Lillian through the waiting period. Even though she had no idea what living here really meant, the idea of it was novel and exciting, and for a long time, that was enough.

We arrived in January and from the glorious plane ride over to the fulfillment of my children's dreams to live in a hotel, the notion of Singapore continued to be in total agreement with Lillian. She loved Singapore and Singapore loved her back. Adventures to be had at every turn. It didn't hurt, too, that the humidity took to her hair in the most loving way and her head became wreathed in gentle golden curls not altogether unlike her favorite Disney Princess, Aurora. Singapore looked good on Lillian and she was having a blast.

Our first several days in Singapore we really were tourists. This is a picture from when we went to the Singapore Zoo and were delighted by the panda exhibit.

The plane ride over was so much fun! Lilian watched about ten movies and asked for donuts every chance she could. 

Living at the Shangri La had some amazing perks, our favorite of which was the hotel pool which was absolutely marvelous (and so fun for us to be outside in January!)

Then came the orientation day for school and it all crashed down around her. Lillian was assigned a buddy to take her around campus. Things didn't go very well with the buddy and that was the beginning of a sudden crash course into the harsh reality that she wasn't a celebrity but actually a brand new kid going to school where she knew no one and the school was as foreign as anything she'd ever experienced in her life time.

I took this during orientation day. This was right after the moment I realized reality had hit and she was moving from exhilarated and excited to despondent and despairing. (She's in pink with glasses on the right)

Trent and I watched, horrified, as our darling girl melted into a puddle of tears and fear, right in front of our eyes as we stood in line with her on for lunch at the school cafeteria on Orientation Day. Her shoulders bowed inward, her hands flew up to her face, her golden curls fell forward and I had to get up underneath her to be able to see her face, which was bright red and wet from the giant alligator tears that continued to flow down her cheeks. Through her hands she whispered to me, "Please. Please get me out of here." I steered her quickly to the cafeteria table and we all sat down, metaphorically circling our wagons of protection around her as we tried to help her pull herself together until we could get her home and settled enough to really figure out what in the world was going on.

The next day I had the opportunity to go out with a new friend I had just met from the school. Her daughter and my son are in the same 2nd grade class. We met through a school texting thread and clicked pretty immediately. Diane is her name and she's lived in Singapore for years. When she texted and invited me to join her for lunch, I couldn't say "yes" fast enough. Having Diane as a friend--and so quickly since our arrival here--has become one of the greatest blessings of my new life here.

At lunch, I shared with Diane the experience Lillian had had crying in the cafeteria the previous day at orientation. Diane listened sympathetically and said, "oh, I totally get it. That was her blowdryer moment." I looked at Diane quizzically, prompting her to explain in greater detail.

She shared that when she had first moved to Australia after living in the United States, she felt the same initial wave of thrill and excitement that comes with moving to a different country. Diane explained that she believed she would be fine, especially since Australians speak English and, best of all, there was a Target right in the neighborhood where she and her husband had found an apartment.

Once she'd been in Australia several days, though, Diane began to realize she didn't quite understand the English that Australians were speaking to her. It made her feel confused and frustrated to not understand what was supposedly her native tongue. But the real culture shock didn't hit until she went to Target to buy a blowdryer. She walked into the store and it didn't look familiar, like she had assumed it would. She turned to the place where she thought she'd find a wall full of blowdryers with at least a dozen options from which to choose, but--that wasn't what it looked like at all. There was one option, a kind of crappy one, and nothing else.

Diane explained that she burst into tears right there in the aisle at Target, sobbing, explaining to her somewhat bewildered husband that she need to get out of there, stat.

The blowdryer moment is the one, Diane (who has a lot of years' experience of living in foreign countries) explained, that everyone has. The scenario is different, but the emotions are the same. It's that moment when you realize that you are in a foreign country and that things really are going to be very different. It's a moment of grief as you realize that the life you had doesn't exist anymore and a moment of fear as you grapple with the worry that your new life is going to be very different.

Since that day in the cafeteria, every single member of our family has had blowdryer moments--lots of them. Like when I was scolded (only a little) by the grocery store lady for not wrapping my meat in the right meat plastic bags before check out, or when Trent drove into oncoming traffic, or when Asher came home from school in tears because he kept getting corrected on his penmanship by the Chinese aide in his 2nd grade class. You can protest and defend, you can cry, you can sulk and be angry, or you can square your shoulders, laugh a little (or a lot), and decide to try again.

The good news is, it gets better. But it's worth recording the lows as well as the highs. And so important to remember that we all have blow dryer moments. It's part of assimilating to a new country and a new culture. We choose the good and the bad.

This is our first Sunday at Church