On raising a Third Culture Kid

… even if he’s still just a baby.

Raising a child abroad was one of aspects that appealed to us about this lifestyle, although I totally respect that there are drawbacks that could potentially scar our kid for life. I guess we’ll have to weigh in on that later. Third Culture Kids (TCKs if your brain can handle another acronym) are children who are raised in a culture other than their parents’ (in our case, American) for a significant part of their early development years. If you’re a glass half full kind of person, Third Culture Kids get to soak up lots of different cultures which is really cool. For those in the half empty camp, these kids may never feel like they truly belong in any of those cultures and will forever wander the Earth as outsiders. Tres and I are optimistic about what kind of life we can offer Osito, but he will most certainly have his own opinions on this. We are aiming for resilient, cultured, fluent in a few different languages, and as sweet as all the other Foreign Service kiddos we meet, but we realize it could just as easily backfire into confused, illiterate in several languages, and cursing us as an angsty teenager for ruining his life. He’ll probably curse us an angsty teenager either way, so we’ll give this our best shot!

In Osito’s first year of life he has lived in Massachusetts, Virginia, Ciudad Juarez, and he spent over a month staying at our parents’ in New Hampshire. He’s only a baby, but I do think he’s resilient. He seems to thrive in new situations and he takes changes in time zones and plane rides (eight flights his first year!) in stride. He eats everything we put in front of him and may even have a preference towards spicy food. I sometimes feel guilty that he doesn’t have the sweet woodland nursery I dreamed of and I worry that with so much change he won’t feel secure, but we are his constants in an environment that is constantly changing. I didn’t plan on it, but it has been a gift to stay home with him and be able to add on part time hours as we were both ready. His father’s work hours allow us to  eat breakfast and dinner together as a family every day, something that would rarely happen for us back in Massachusetts. I’m hoping that those strong attachments count for something.

As far as language acquisition goes, his first word was “Mama,” followed by “hola,” then “Dada.” His receptive language is better and he quickly points to his head when we ask for it in Spanish. He loves to high five in Spanish (“chócala” which translates to “crush it”) and he responds appropriately to other Spanish phrases like signing for food when I ask if he’s hungry and stopping in his tracks when I tell him to be careful. On the days when it was really difficult to leave him with a nanny or bring him to daycare at the school where I work, I would remind myself how beneficial it is for him to learn Spanish. I really should speak to him more in Spanish myself, but I’m hesitant to teach him my broken Spanish. I’ll let the professionals teach him for now!

 

On finding gainful-ish employment

… I’m not in it for the pesos.

During my second week here I had a job interview at a local private bilingual school, and less than a month after our arrival I was reporting to my first day at work! As one of Tres’ colleagues said, “Girl, you don’t waste any time!” Seriously, though. To my knowledge, I am the only EFM that is currently working in the local economy.

One of the challenges of being an EFM is giving up your career and reinventing yourself at every post. Apparently being a teacher is one of the most transferable jobs for a spouse, and luckily I struggle to stay in any one place too long so things may just work out for me. At this particular post there isn’t an international school so my options were limited. I could a) commute across the border to work in El Paso and get paid in USD or b) work in Juarez and get paid in pesos. In the end, I was most interested in interacting with local educators and having a flexible schedule for Osito, so I’m in Juarez making all the pesos. Plus, he gets to attend daycare at my school so it’s a win-win!

My official title is English Academic Advisor. I spent the spring trying to figure out exactly what that means, and many days I’m still unsure. I try to motivate teachers, offer new strategies, advocate for their needs, and proofread anything that needs a native English set of eyes. I am hyper-aware of not being the foreigner who comes in and tells them how to do things, so I try to lean heavily on their local expertise and find ways to make sustainable changes with their buy-in that will outlast me when I’m gone. There is a serious learning curve and some days are more clumsy than others, however Mexicans prove to be eternally patient and kind and we’re making progress. So much of how the school runs is foreign to me (Will I ever get used to kissing everyone to greet them?!) but engaging lessons are universal so I find I have more in common with the staff than not. If I fail in this administrative role, I’m hoping they’ll just let me teach a few science classes.

 

Oh, hey there!

… I haven’t fallen off the face of the planet!

Note: I’m finally getting around to posting this two months after I wrote it and four months after we arrived in Ciudad Juarez. Better late than never!

I kept telling myself I’d write something once I felt more settled in. Two months later, and I think I finally feel settled in!

My weekly routine includes going to work part time in the mornings. Osito either goes to daycare at the school I work at or he stays home with our nanny. My outings around Ciudad Juarez include trips to the grocery store and restaurants on the weekends. I cross the border to go to El Paso a couple times a week, generally on Wednesday afternoons for Osito’s bilingual music class and Sunday mornings to go to Target to avoid the long lines while everyone is at church. I meet with an online Spanish therapist tutor once a week, I have tennis lessons one night a week, and we have a regular babysitter so we can get out for dinner.

The relative normalcy of my weeks belies the struggle it took to get there. I spent my first couple weeks anxiously adjusting and trying to stay afloat. Patience isn’t my strong suit and I really wanted my new normal to magically arrive without any of the hard work. Little by little I claimed new victories and created new routines. In the beginning it was navigating the traffic on my first trip to the grocery store, testing the best bridge and time to cross the border to avoid long lines, and learning to communicate with Osito’s daycare workers in Spanish as he adjusted to a new routine. It’s one thing to have your infant refusing a bottle at daycare, but another to try to explain how to get him to drink it in a foreign language. The tasks that felt monumental my first weeks are a breeze now, albeit it a hot, dry breeze with tumbleweeds dancing by…

It would be easy to say “I did it!” and pat myself on the back, but the truth is that I’ve had a lot of help. The consulate community offers as much help as I ask for and we were set up with a social sponsor who has been really helpful. I’m in no position to turn down friendliness, even if our sponsor is obligated to hang out with us! I was able to find my job through a contact at the consulate (more on that here) and there are always events that help us meet people- the Easter party at the Consul General’s house, her pool party, as well as book clubs, tennis lessons, and various other clubs I can’t always join because life is tricky with a baby. I am extremely grateful to the EFM’s (eligible family members… aka spouses) that reached out to me for tea, lunch, whatever. Beyond the consulate community, the single most helpful person has been our part time nanny/household helper. She keeps the desert dust off our floors, helps me find everything I need in Juarez (an evening gown, patio plants, party decorations!), and has unwavering patience with my Spanish (or she’s just a mind reader). She’s also a great mother, a professional employee, and my first local friend here.

With only two years at a post, you are forced to adjust quickly and I think we’re on the right track! Our HHE (household effects) arrived just shy of two months after our arrival and the maintenance folks came by last week to hang all of our pictures. The guest room is ready, so if you’re up for a visit nuestra casa es su casa!