But, I’m an immigrant.

I have a wonderful student I’ve been teaching English to for ten years who is a retiree. The sweetest gentleman, he’s definitely become my Czech grandpa and loves bringing gifts to little M at any opportunity. However, we don’t exactly see eye-to-eye regarding politics so I try to avoid this topic whenever possible.

The other week we were discussing the recent election here in the Czech Republic. He asked me if I was supporting any particular party and I told him although I’m not a citizen and can’t vote, I support whichever party is most sympathetic to immigrants.

Him: But why?

Me: You see… I am an immigrant.

Him: Nooooo. That’s not the right word. You see, we use immigrant as a negative word. That’s not the word for you.

Me: Well, I’ve lived here for a long time and I don’t yet know exactly when I will return. I pay taxes, social security, health insurance, had a child here, have my child in Czech schools so he might have an easier time living in this country, learning Czech language… I am from a foreign country, far away. Is that not an immigrant?

Him: But you are so nice, noooooo I think that’s not the right word for you.

Me: What word would you suggest?

Him: Well, I see what you mean.

And the conversation was sort of left like that. Even though the lines of what I consider myself to be are unclear. Although I do plan to go back (so, expat?) but I don’t know when (so… immigrant until further notice).

A funny thing, living here so long (thirteen years, next month). It’s a hard thing to try to articulate. Basically, I miss my home country and home state a lot. But. When you have lived somewhere for so long and so many things are going so well for you, it’s a really hard thing to go back. I hate that it’s so far and expensive to go back home. Even the thought of having to fly out of Seattle gives me a big pit in my stomach and it just feels wrong. It is beyond difficult trying to mantain a presence in two places with a nine hour time difference between them. When I weigh the pros and cons of thinking about moving back, the pros get harder to justify and just don’t make very much sense when compared with the cons.

Although, this summer spending six weeks back in the USA, despite ~whatever this is that’s going on right now~ it felt really comfortable. It is so nice to be somewhere and not have to justify your being there but know that you belong. See people you know around town, now, nearing forty, all of us in a very different stage of life but still feeling as accepted as ever. Like sinking into a cushy couch which has the perfect butt-indent for you.

Now, with a child, it does feel like there could be some kind of expiration date on this phase of life and those days may come, but for now I am here, and I could never regret any of this. Although I miss the buzz of the big American city and feeling somehow in the middle of everything (which I definitely do not feel like here), The Czech Republic is wonderful, a balm for the nervous system, the happy and simple life. And I could never regret any of it.

Happy (almost) thirteen years in Czech to me. After thirteen I’m giving myself permission to lose count. (I think I already have because I thought it was twelve and had to go back and edit the post)