I’ve been away from my country of birth, the UK, for 14 years, and in Aotearoa for the last 10 of those. Though I have zero intention of ever moving back there – and love New Zealand dearly – I still follow British news religiously, get furious at the politicians, and surprise myself at my latent loyalty to the England football team.
Which got me thinking, though we may move away from our countries of origin, do we ever really leave home in our heads? I decided to ask around…
“Well, I’ve never really been big into soccer or rugby, so I kind of sit on the fence when NZ plays SA,” mulls Verve co-editor Fran Ninow who hails from South Africa and has been living in Auckland for 24 years, having previously spent time here for travel and an OE. “But I do sometimes feel proud when Saffas achieve – like Elon Musk, Charlize Theron, Desmond Tutu, or Trevor Noah. In a nutshell, I wouldn’t consider myself overly patriotic to the motherland, definitely connected though.”
PATRIOTISM
Patriotism (from the Greek, patrios which translates as ‘of one’s father’) is a strange – sometimes fun, occasionally dangerous – concept whose fundamental absurdity was summed up perfectly by George Bernard Shaw as being “your conviction that this country is superior to other countries because you were born in it”.
Our countries are something over which we have very little influence (especially, most frustratingly, during world cups), and even for those of us lucky enough to have been born into democratic ones, general elections generally result in around half the population at best, disapproving of, at worst, detesting their elected government.
But can we really claim to be all that patriotic if we choose to live in another country altogether?
“I have a deep love and respect for my country,” says Nicolas Aubin, an engineer who hails from Paris. Nicolas settled in New Zealand permanently in 2017 having spent the previous few years back and forth researching yacht engineering for his doctorate. “I think you can certainly be patriotic and choose to live abroad – you should try to help your country shine through your actions, while embracing your new local culture.”
Nicolas’s fiancée, Agnès de Calbiac, also born in France (though they met in Auckland), has a whole different perspective, being a ‘third culture kid’ – a term describing children raised away from their parents’ countries of birth. Agnès was born in France to French parents but moved to Luxemburg when she was six years old where school classes were in German and Luxembourgish. Aged 12, she was enrolled in an international French school where students spoke English, Portuguese, Italian, or the languages of Scandinavia.
“Growing up with so many cultures, I felt that I could define myself by my passions, not my passport,” says Agnès, who is a risk manager. She travelled here five years ago to honour her late grandfather who always dreamt of visiting New Zealand, but never made the trip. Agnès never intended on staying long-term but fell in love with Aotearoa. “In some ways, I’d never be fully any nationality, which was quite freeing, but because I didn’t have a way of defining myself externally, I had to ground myself internally through values and loyalties and to those I hold closest to me. This is where ‘patriotism’ becomes blurry and confusing. But I’m always going to order the Belgian beer, pick a French croissant over eggs and bacon, and forever rely on German engineering for my appliances!”
Karina Alarcón, an accountant from Santiago, Chile, and her partner, David Navarro, a designer from Mexico’s Guadalajara also met in New Zealand, in Wellington in 2010. Like Agnès, Karina admits to not having expected to fall so deeply in love with Aotearoa; and doesn’t consider herself patriotic: “Even though I love my family and friends and find my country beautiful, I don’t like how things work there.”
“I’m proud of my origins and where I come from and if that’s the definition of patriotism then I guess I am patriotic,” says David. “I love so many things about Mexico but, at the same time, I also know there are so many things that are not working. But I think yes, you can choose to live somewhere else but still feel the attachment to your country of origin.”
“So, in a way, my situation surprises me. But I still have a strong attachment to my birthplace, I think this is natural.”
BELONGING
Joint research by Rice University, Columbia University, the University of North Carolina, and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, published by Harvard Business Review, suggests folk are likely to have a better understanding of themselves the longer they spend away from their countries of birth. While in their home country, people tend to hang out with people that think and behave similarly to themselves, so goes the report, but “when living abroad, our data found that people’s exposure to novel cultural values and norms prompts them to repeatedly engage with their own values and beliefs”.
The paper also found that living overseas to be more likely to lead to “clearer career decisions”.
“Being away definitely makes you see things from a different perspective,” says David. “You learn to appreciate the good things and notice the bad ones even more as you realise there are more options in other places. But with distance, I think I started caring less about all the bad things happening over there but appreciating even more the good stuff.”
“I think my younger self would have never ever have imagined I’d eventually live abroad,” says Nicolas. “So, in a way, my situation surprises me. But I still have a strong attachment to my birthplace, I think this is natural.”
Many noted psychologists, including Freud, have recognised the importance of belonging, but the most influential theory came courtesy of Roy Baumeister and Mark Leary who proposed that the need to belong is comparable even with the need for food or shelter. Another study, of 41,000 residents across 31 European nations, found a link between happiness and national pride – with people’s nation of residence, rather than nation of origin, having a greater influence on their sense of worth.
“I do feel at home in New Zealand,” says Nicolas. “I have a close circle of friends and a sense that my life is here. It’s been tough with the border restrictions, and luckily technology allows us to stay connected, but nothing can replace a physical hug from a parent, a sibling, or a childhood friend.”
David says that he “has no regrets at all” about crossing the Pacific 12 years ago, though there is still a lingering sense of “not fully belonging here”: “But funnily enough, when I’m back in Mexico, I have the same feeling of no longer fully belong there anymore, either.”
Karina echoes her partner’s sentiments:
“I’m very grateful to have made New Zealand my home, but I know that I am an immigrant here, and I really don’t feel as though I belong to either country anymore.”
“I think any third culture kid could tell you that ‘home’ is very much a shape-shifting concept,” adds Agnès. “Home will never be a country for me, but rather a feeling of safety. Home is my parents, my sisters, my friends, my fiancé. They’re my belonging.”
EXPAT or IMMIGRANT?
Strictly speaking, the difference between an expat (expatriate) and an immigrant is that an immigrant moves permanently to another country, while an expat moves abroad for an extended period with the intention of returning home. Unfortunately, in practice, that’s not usually the way it’s interpreted.
Chris Brewster, a professor of international resource management at the Henley Business School tells the BBC that when most people talk about expatriates, they mean “rich, educated, developed elites”, while “others are just migrants or immigrants”.
Ironically the word ‘expat’ was first applied to British civil servants in the mid-20th century who were expatriated – that is sent abroad, not by choice, so essentially a forced migration that many now associate with immigrants.
Writing for The Guardian, Mawauna Remarque Koutonin describes the word ‘expat’ as “hierarchical”, designed to elevate those of European origin: “If you see those ‘expats’ in Africa, call them immigrants like everyone else… The political deconstruction of this outdated worldview must continue.”
Words — Jamie Christian Desplaces