Being Known

One of the hardest things for me about living away from home, in a foreign country, is not having people around who really know me. It's different than being lonely, but similar.

Because we're on an island with very few people, many people know who we are. I don't always know who they are. There are a lot of folks who work at the lab, and when we meet, I'm not always clear on who they are (student? researcher? professor? maintenance staff? boat captain?). At first, I would just ask, but now that we've been here a while it's embarrassing to admit that I still don't know what people do here.

It has also been hard for me to learn people's names. When we first arrived, we met many people all at once. Often, their names were difficult to understand and even more difficult to pronounce. Sometimes they'd give me an alternative "English version" of their name, which is thoughtful, but effectively doubles the number of new names I encounter. I prefer knowing people's actual names, so sometimes when they give me the English version, I would try to convince them to help me pronounce the Swedish version. Which I usually fail at. And then forget.

We've been recognized in town a few times. At the mall, the mother of one of the elementary students overheard us speaking English, and came over to ask if we were the new family living on Tjärnö. (We are). She had heard about us from her daughter, whom we'd met during our school visit.

Another day, we were buying clothes in a local shop, and I was chatting up the cashier. She said, "Oh! Are you here with your husband who is on his sabbatical?" She had heard about us from her friend, who owns a local cafe and bike rental shop and was one of the first people we met in town.

Last Friday, on our weekly excursion to the big play place at Nordby, two mall employees recognized me. At the craft store, the cashier asked, "Didn't we meet before?" She remembered that I had been raving about my new favorite store, Clas Ohlson. Then, when I went to get a cup of coffee, the cashier at the cafe also recognized me: "Haven't you been here before?" She asked where we were from, and expressed her desire to visit California someday.

I think it helps a great deal that almost everyone here speaks exceptional English. It also helps that I'm generally chatty and (like many Americans) not afraid to share random personal details, like my love of Clas Ohlson. I think also because I spend so much time with my children, I'm eager for any adult conversation, even if it's just a passing chat with a cashier at the mall.

Although it's not the same as having friends or family nearby, who really know you, having some people around who remember you and recognize you is really nice. Makes me feel less alone.