An expat confession...

Bless me, Interweb, for I have sinned.

I recently read a post on Buzzfeed which promised to tell me 'The 17 Best Ways to Annoy a British Person' expecting to chuckle my way through it.  Because we're easily annoyed, we Brits, aren't we?  Not in a 'stamping around, throwing our tennis racquet on the ground over losing matchpoint like MacEnroe did all those years ago' kind of a way*, but in a 'Tut.  Well, that's quite disappointing...' way, which is how we react to virtually everything from a mildly rainy day when we were promised blazing sunshine, to a traffic jam on our way to the airport causing us to miss our plane, to an empty biscuit tin, to being knocked out of the Football World Cup at the quarter final stage, or to bidding farewell to large parts of what were formerly outposts of the British Empire**.

But then I read #1 on the list; 'Make them a cup of tea without properly boiling the water first.'

And I thought - god help me - 'But I don't boil the water properly first, any more'...  I used to, you understand. And in the UK, I still do.  But here, I just go to the water cooler, which also gives out piping hot water (though it must be said, it's not boiling) and - oh, the horror - I just fill my cup straight up from there.  And then put a tea bag into it, wave it around a little, and I - I call that tea.

*hangs head in shame*

This got me thinking.  What else do I do now, as an expat, that I never used to do when I was living in Blighty?

I call pavements 'sidewalks'.  Because frankly if I said anything else, no-one here would understand what on earth I was talking about, but still...  Ditto (see that?  'Ditto'?  What's happening to me?) 'recess' for playtime, 'highway' for dual carriageway, and 'cookie' for biscuit to name but a few linguistic infractions.

If a traffic jam doesn't have more than 7 lines of traffic trying to squeeze into two marked lanes, I don't consider it worth remarking on.  It's just a normal intersection (Jesus, I meant 'junction'.  JUNCTION!).

I listen to Crap FM in the car.  Easy listening.  Smooooth music.  Because if I listened to anything like I used to in London (xfm, out of choice), I would be a nervous wreck in the afore-mentioned traffic jams.

I am capable of going to a dinner party or spending time with friends and not once mentioning my children's school, their next school, their previous school, or how any and all of these are fitting our children for their futures.  Which is quite refreshing, if you think about it.

I am also capable of spotting a new arrival from the UK at 20 paces at any social gathering, because they will be the one fretting about education and not understanding how the rest of us are so chilled out about it.  (Note: I am saving my fretting for the school year prior to our return to Britain, and since I don't know when that will be, why for now I just consider myself on sabbatical from the UK education system.  Shortsighted, I know...)

I make fantasy lists.  Not lists of what I would do if I were to win the lottery, oh no.  These lists are of what I would buy if I were to find myself magicked to the aisles of Sainsbury's or Waitrose on the Cromwell Road. Highlights include Marigold Organic Vegetable and - of course - Green & Black's chocolate, if you must know.

And, heaven help me, I encourage my kids to make fantasy lists too; 'We're going to England in a few weeks, boys; what shall we eat?'  (The answers to this one are many and varied and span the culinary gamut from Cornish pasties through roast lamb to sushi, with a quick stop on the way for Gran's lasagne and Oma's indonesian food).

I make scones.  Scones, god help me.  And what's worse - I like them and think to myself, 'Oh, that would be LOVELY with a cup of tea'.  Now, obviously scones have their place - smothered in clotted cream and strawberry jam (in that order, obviously), in a sea-front cafe in Devon or Cornwall, but in Moscow?  Really?

I make my own chutney.  A friend from the UK came to visit last summer and on discovering this fact her face said it all.  'Who are you, and what have you done with PM?'


If you are - or have been - an expat, what's your confession?


* which event, I am sure, still ranks highly in the  most embarassing incidents British people ever saw on tv because, really, for chrissake man, show a little decorum...

** I have it on good authority that this has been royalty's reaction to minor setbacks throughout the history of the British Empire, like losing America.  Or India.  Or - need I go on?