Emigrating to the Old World

When people read the word reentry, what comes to your mind? Probably “reentering the earth’s atmosphere after traveling in space. “ But the subject of my article is a different kind of reentry.

Reentry: (adj.) Retaking Possession. — Merriam-Webster.

I was born on the American continent. I always felt comfortable living abroad; especially if it involved a foreign language. In my lifetime, I relocated four times to another continent overseas. I am back in my continent of birth, and this was my second “reentry” into the continent where I saw the light the first time.

I returned every year for holidays to visit family and rekindle friendships. But that was too brief to think of it as a reentry.

Then one day, a series of accumulated events propelled me into deciding to return home. Although, for myself “home” is a loose definition because I always felt at home where I lived. At the same time “the sequence of events” sounds more like that Mayday TV series. There was also a little of that, but not related to airplanes.

Emigrating far away is not a decision you should take lightly; especially if it is far away. The scenario transforms dramatically the older you get.

When I returned home, I felt like the prodigal son as in the parable. My father did not quite like that I lived abroad 9,000 kilometers away. My decision for leaving was to pursue a career abroad. Panama lived its last months of dictatorship at the time I decided to pursue dreams over the horizon.

When I finally set foot in my country of birth, a quarter of a century had elapsed. A lot of things had happened in my life in those 25 years. The same applied where I had landed, jetlagged, with two heavy suitcases. Let us not forget the expensive promise that the rest of my belongings would arrive a month later. Unless of course, the ship capsized or the container vandalized. The latter happened to a cousin, so it was a possibility.

If I only knew it was going to be as turbulent as reentering the Earth’s atmosphere from space! Then again, I am neither Neil Armstrong nor Richard Branson.

Funny Moments

The turbulent re-entry into the domain of my youth had its funny moments too. I only wished there had been more of those.

If you have lived in the tropics, you know that your skin will develop a natural suntan. A quarter of a century in northern latitudes meant that I had lost it and that is a mark for easy prey.

Often times I found myself in weird situations stemming from the lack of homely pigments. For example, when a non-English speaking local would refuse to talk to me thinking I was a “gringo”. Or then when I would address them in Spanish (my native tongue) to let them know I can communicate. On some occasions, the attendant remained blocked into believing I was a foreigner.

To be treated like a foreigner in your own country can be a disconcerting experience.

Once I was at a birthday party of one of my wife’s patients and one of their family members made an innocent comment about me. It was then that my wife reminded them that not only did I know Spanish but that I was actually born here!

Other times it had been less than funny though. In the countryside, my own countrymen would try to give us an upped price for goods. So, my wife now does the asking of a price. Now, that shouldn’t be necessary, but here there is this bad habit of not advertising the prices.

Where I lived, it was a custom to greet people with three kisses. Down here it is only one. I lost the habit rather a few months after my arrival.

The joys that came

There have been many of them. A sure compensation for the discomforts of leaving a secured life in the developed world. The most important being the proximity of family and aging parents. A quarter of a century without a single next-of-kin may not be an easy feat.

Then came finding the one and true companion: my wife. Not that I was without amorous relationships that long. It took a long reentry to tie the knot. Sometimes the best things are hard to find.

Living abroad for 25 years without next-of-kin is not for everybody.

And last but not least, the joy of living in the tropics! I must admit that despite being born in the tropics, it took me a long time to adapt myself to this heat. The first few years I was on the verge of a climactic meltdown. The unbearable heat made me wonder how on earth they could even consider wearing a suit! I never liked the excess clothing required in the northern latitudes. Short summers were not on my list of good things.

Discomforts on a new reality

I had to bear with many discomforts of my new reality as an immigrant in my own country.

When I left, my country was living its five last years of dictatorship. Ironically, with regards to personal safety, that period was the safest. At least if you didn’t step on the government’s toes (which meant the military).

When I returned for good (is it?) all had changed, the dictatorship had ended in 1989. You could now get murdered for flashing a Blackberry phone in public. I didn’t have one, nor planned to, but it was a distressing reality. And that has not changed.

The seeds of corruption are ingrained everywhere.

Another great discomfort had been having to deal with corruption on a daily basis. It is everywhere to the point it makes me mad. Corruption is intolerable for those of us raised with good moral and ethical values. Now it is everywhere and done without shame. My family lived that ordeal in their own flesh during the Panameñista government.

And then there is age discrimination which is blatant. Labor-wise, Panama is still in the middle ages with regards to labor laws and job security. Those who have not lived abroad perceive it as something natural and correct.

It is also very expensive when compared to what you get in return. My third-world country is more expensive than northern Europe.

Friendships

I have never was a person of many friends. I am not asocial, but I have always been very selective with the people I chose to know. When you live abroad, you are not only an ambassador of your country or culture, you are also on your own.

Then there is the difference between a friend, an acquaintance, and what may lie between. For some of us, the difference is quite clear, it lies in the wisdom to discern one from another.

Discern between a friend and an acquaintance. Think of those that will stick when things go sour.

When I returned, some friendships had changed, it wasn’t the same anymore. They had already established lives in our country and other interests. And yet, several others survived the test of time. The time came to forge new friendships and renew others.

But, despite the distance and the cruelty of the passage of time, I still have friends in places I left behind. It is comforting when people have made a positive impact on your life rather than a dent.

The Human Dilemma

Living abroad means being away from your immediate family. When I re-entered the land of my youth, all had changed. The same applies to everybody who emigrates and then returns.

Missing on the life of those important to us is a price we pay.

The most dramatic changes are of humankind. When you return your parents have aged, and you can consider yourself lucky if both are still living. Your siblings, nieces, and nephews will also be grown up. You missed the most important years of their lives and that you can never replace.

In The End

In the end, when I returned I spent some time at the home of my childhood before starting a family and this is what I found. My bedroom was still mine but many of my past assets were gone.

• The baseball glove my father gave me disappeared. He taught me to play and I held it dearly. Now he is gone and so is the keepsake.
• The racing bicycle my parents gave me was taken and disfigured by my brother-in-law without my permission and now it is gone too.
• The fishing cane my father bought me as a kid also disappeared from my belongings at “home”.

And those were only a few. It was as if destiny had tried to erase me from family history. But, despite the mysterious disappearance of some material things, my mother had prepared a photo album for each of us (me and my siblings) documenting our childhood.

In the end, what you leave may or may not be there when you return. Life goes on for those who leave as well as for those left “behind”. However, memories do remain and only Alzheimer or Amnesia can take that away from you.

The single payment provider that this excellent publishing platform relies on, does not reach the apparently darker part of the world where I live. As such, I do not perceive any in-platform royalties (like the majority does).

Or if you are interested in one of the Wonders of the Modern World that was nearby where I lived, I can recommend this excellent book by David McCullough: The Path Between the Seas. This is an affiliate link, I would earn a small commission but at no extra cost to you. This book was an enlightening read.