The Expat Advantage During COVID-19
By: Claire Hauxwell
Tags: Expat, Expat Life, Living Abroad, Transitions

It’s mid-April (I think, I’ve lost track of what day it is), and we’ve been on pseudo lockdown, quarantine, self-isolation or whatever you are calling it in Switzerland for a little over a month. Nothing but grocery stores, pharmacies and gas stations are open for business. Wait, I lie — some home and garden shops are allowing online ordering with curbside pick-up or direct delivery to your home. You can also order food delivery services (if you can stay up past midnight to land a delivery slot… this is way tougher than it sounds because my ass likes to be in bed by 10PM), takeout and buy whatever other random things you might need for post-delivery to your doorstep for an exorbitant amount of money. I’ve transitioned my kids to home learning, unwillingly reacquainted myself with the toilet brush and have become a short-order cook — it’s been a steep learning curve. Oh, and add dishwasher to the list of COVID-19 induced mind-numbing goodness because mine just fucking broke. (Yep, I’m totally aware of this being a first world problem. Do not judge me.) But, all in all, it’s not been terrible. Trying at times, yes, but not terrible.

Our family decided to ride the pandemic out in our host country of Switzerland. I’ll admit it’s not a bad place to be during this extraordinary time (as the Swiss government likes to refer to it). We’ve only been residing in Switzerland for about eight months, so we are still transitioning to regular life in der Schweiz — add a pandemic, some self-isolation and a language barrier together, and you’ve got a great cocktail for a major mind fuck. I’ve always known expat life wasn’t for sissies, and this moment in time proves it.

I’m not one of those people who has organized and redesigned their life so that when they eventually emerge from their homes, they will be a completely new person. Good on you if you were able to metamorphose into a mega hustler in the past month, but I’m more of the “we got through the day without any major disasters” sort of lockdown creature. To each their own — everyone locks down differently — no judgment here. Like many others, I’ve been cooking and cleaning like a madwoman because the natives are messy, always hungry and I have a bit of OCD when it comes to dirty floors… NOT because I’m motivated to make my house perfect. Besides, no one is going to see it in a perfect state anyway — so all that extra effort would be wasted. When I do find time to sit at my desk to work, I feel like I can’t concentrate. My mind begins to wander, the dog has to go outside, or I hear “MOM!” shouted from the basement. Most of these tasks and situations are ordinary things, now they feel amplified by sudden modification to routines and extreme usage. So, I’m having to channel my energy a bit differently in order to meet the needs of my family and most importantly, myself. Because if momma’s not happy, nobody is happy.

We have been instructed to social distance and stay home — no groups of five or more (maybe it’s less now, but I seriously have no idea because I haven’t been meeting with my friends), stay two meters apart and don’t loiter or gather in public places. Luckily, the weather during the COVID-19 imprisonment has been fantastic — warm and sunny spring days with cool nights (perfect for sleeping with your windows open). So, I have been craving the outdoors when I’m not supposed to be enjoying it. Fortunately, in Switzerland we are lucky enough to be able to get out of our homes to stretch our legs and breathe in some fresh mountain air as long as we keep our distance from others. I’ve been walking my dogs daily and taking runs on occasion (desperate times call for desperate measures because if you know me, you know I don’t love to run).

While I was out walking my dogs last week, I bumped into a dear friend. As lovely as it was to see her in person and having longed for outside companionship for weeks, our chance meeting felt awkward and alien. She stayed on the edge of the road while I walked in the middle of the street with two meters between us. It was all so weird, but we both knew it was for the common good and I was just happy to be able to have an in-person conversation with someone that wasn’t my husband or at one point lived inside my body. It’s the little things that make lockdown so much more tolerable.

With the weather being so pleasant, and I having no place to go, I started to get an itch to get my hands dirty. Since the home improvement stores are still operating remotely, I had a bunch of flowers, dirt, pots and tools delivered to help make my garden look a little bit more appealing. (I’d sure as hell like to know who took over my mind control because this is not my typical behavior.) I purchased outdoor furniture online and had it delivered to my doorstep. My husband assembled the chairs so that I could sit in the sun, get some vitamin D, sip my rosé and watch my girls play in our garden. I even scraped the weeds growing between the patio pavers to make the dandelion riddled back yard look a little less disheveled. I clearly must be desperate for outdoor activity if I’m resorting to fucking scraping weeds. It had been bothering me for weeks, but I just never found the time to get around to it till now, or maybe I didn’t care enough till the only outdoor space I had was surrounded by eyesores — self-isolation will make you do crazy things. I’m lucky to have this outdoor space as an extension of my home, and I must be nesting in my still fairly new home. It’s allowed me to teach my kids a couple of things and to create something — I forgot how much I enjoy working with my hands.

Since I’m doing my best to #staythefuckhome, I’m only trying to leave the house once a week. I attempt to knock out all my shopping tasks in one go and rid my home of the recycling that, for some reason, has begun to grow in size over the past few weeks. These weekly excursions are blessings with a touch of added anxiety. Going to the shops allows me to feel somewhat carefree and normal for a brief moment. I leave my house, get in my car, roll the windows down and jam out to whatever is playing on the radio — just like before COVID-19 made us all afraid of touching our faces and scared the world would run out of toilet paper.

But, there’s more to my weekly shopping excursion, and this is the aspect of COVID-19 I’m struggling with most during this weird-ass episode in time. Before leaving the house, I have to complete my pre-shopping checklist:

Check our household inventory levels and create a detailed list of every item I might need for the next week (because heaven forbid, we run out of that globally coveted three-ply goodness) Load my car with my mountain of recycling (I’m not going to lie, there might be a lot of extra wine bottles and beer cans) Make sure I’ve got my COVID kit armed and ready for action (ninja mask, disinfectant wipes and hand sanitizer).

Then sitting in the parking lot before exiting the haven of my car, I emotionally gear up before ascending on the germ-infested world. I take a deep breath and equip myself mentally to partake in the weirdness that is now the new standard of life — one in one out at the shops, the oh so fashionable surgical masks and the constant aroma of isopropyl alcohol. As I enter the store, I immediately feel like I can’t wait to get the hell out of there — I keep to myself, skip crowded aisles and steer clear of anyone who looks suspiciously ill. I gotta say, my regular trips to the grocery store sound eerily familiar, as I’m so self-conscious of my German language skills that I literally act the same way when there isn’t a risk of catching a virus.

When I complete my errands, I douse my hands with sanitizer and pray to the gods I haven’t missed a spot. I get home and unload the goods into the basement to quarantine non-essential items for three days. Then I stress myself out wiping everything else down with disinfectant wipes and washing the fresh food with vinegar and water. When I finish, my hands feel raw from the hot water that’s scalded my hands during the umpteen times I’ve scrubbed them because I’m worried about cross-polluting something. It’s also the one day a week I intentionally save my shower for later in the day so that I can have a post-shopping decontamination ceremony. At this point, I’m ready for a drink — geez, talk about stressful.

Other than on my shopping days, I’m not exactly struggling with this whole lockdown thing. I thought it would be much more difficult than it’s been so far. I will admit, I do enjoy alone time when it’s on my terms — not necessarily when others tell me to do it. But even that’s not bothering me too much since I know isolating myself and my family is the best way to protect us from this invisible enemy.

Yes, I miss personal interactions with my people, no doubt about that — believe me, I would love to be meeting my friends for a boozy Friday lunch on a sunny terrace in Luzern right about now — but we can’t and yes, it sucks, but it’s okay. Instead, I’m making do with morning bitch sessions via WhatsApp about how much my kids eat (intermittent fasting would be beneficial with regards to the number of dishes needing washing daily especially now that the damn dishwasher is broken), and that dust and dirt will be the death of me if COVID-19 doesn’t get me first. I’ve joined Zoom calls to catch up with friends scattered around the world and I checked in on my parents more frequently to make sure they are doing okay and have ample amounts of food and toilet paper.

It seems most of my people are handling the situation pretty well, some better than others and a few are close to going off the deep end, but I’ve been noticing a trend. My long-term expat friends seem to be sailing through socially distancing and self-isolating themselves from the rest of society. I have no scientific data to prove my findings, but I think they are totally nailing it. If they are anything like me, they are used to being separated from their family and friends, have dealt with numerous bouts of loneliness and are accustomed to using the latest technology to keep in touch with loved ones around the world. Our family has even had to sadly deal with a sudden death and not being able to return home for the funeral of my father-in-law when I was 40 weeks pregnant and living in Geneva. So, I can relate to the those living abroad who have lost a family member due to COVID-19.

Having lived abroad for the past 11 years, I have missed my family and friends every single day of my expat life. Then add the fact that each time I move to a new place (five international moves so far), I leave behind my current ‘normal.’ In essence, everything I know to be ‘normal’ — including stores, activities, people, etc. — is taken away and replaced with another set of new things. This COVID era is scary and uncertain, but I feel like I’m coping with this period of crazy pretty well by utilizing the knowledge I’ve gained from my expat transition experiences.

It’s not like I’m living a life drastically different from eight months ago when I first moved back to Switzerland. This time in space is reminiscent of the beginning of any expat assignment — lots of uncertainty and not much connection to local people, places or things. I’ve been around the block a time or two, and I feel like I’m pretty comfortable with my own company (I mean, duh, I’m so much fun) and the sole companionship of my family since sometimes we are the only ones we have to socialize with during transition times to new locations.

I largely see the connection between self-isolation and the early stages of expat transition in my daughters, who have been TCKs their entire lives. Each time our family replants itself in a new place, the girls rely on each other for friendship and entertainment — not to mention a few shouting matches just for added kicks. My daughters are used to radical, sudden and drastic changes in their environments. Yes, they are bored out of their minds at times during their seclusion and they miss their friends, but this isn’t the first time in their lives they’ve been stuck together. They have lived through moments when the only friend they had was each other, had to make do with the whatever toys and stuff we could scrounge up for entertainment because the TV shows were all in a different language, and they’ve had to have picnics on the floor because we didn’t have any furniture to sit on. At least they have all their personal belongings and can be comfortable during this mandatory confinement behind the closed door of their bedroom.

So, here is my theory…

I believe expats are adaptable creatures who possess an incredible amount of hands-on life experience know-how that has unintentionally helped prepare us for the pandemic’s sudden impact on our world. They are resilient individuals who know what it feels like to be apart from family and friends and are able to overcome hardships like missing major milestones and dealing with devastating circumstances like death while living abroad because sometimes they have no other choice. They are equipped to manage abrupt transition and are familiar with acclimating to a new way of life quickly because they’ve done it before. The expat’s level of adaptability is on point, and they’ve learned early adjustment will make their lives easier to flourish in their new culture later on. And, they are probably able to battle through the loneliness of isolation a little better than the average bear. Every expat endures bouts of loneliness at some point during their time abroad, and I’m sure they have some coping mechanisms in their arsenal to battle through it.

So, if you’re a seasoned expat (or ever were) who currently feels pretty good about your current situation, I hope you’ll reach out to those who might be struggling with this unexpected transition. Offer whatever you can to support them through this tough time — it might be as easy as shooting them a text message (always use good social distancing skills), picking up the phone for them to hear your voice (use the speaker so you don’t put your dirty phone on your face) or dropping off a batch of homemade cookies (just be sure to sanitize the container, please). This situation is new for everyone, but now is a prime opportunity to show the world the hidden talents we have to thrive through transition.

Now is a time when the world needs a little more empathy and kindness. It’s difficult out there right now. If we can help another person, we should without hesitation. I hope these small acts of kindness will help us all see the goodness humanity has to offer and to because we are all in this together but apart.