“There’s so much change!” I said to my roommate, Micki, as she told me about the rotation of roommates coming and going over the next few months.

“Yeah,” she replied, “and I hate to say this, but get used to it.”

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Before I moved to Rwanda, there were many challenges I expected to encounter from life abroad–things like not being able to drink tap water, having slow internet, learning a new culture, language and city, etc.

But never having lived overseas for longer than two months, I am just now starting to get a taste of the harder-hitting challenges faced by long-term expats.

Challenges like always saying goodbye. At least in Rwanda, where the expat community is so very transient, it seems that the goodbyes just never let up, especially around summertime. In fact, everyone has said goodbye so many times that promises of keeping in touch or seeing each other again are no longer a part of the ritual. Instead, we take the very real possibility of never seeing some of these friends again and look it right in the eye. Of course, bidding farewell to close friendships is always sad, but sometimes its the friends you wish you knew better who are the hardest to let go.

In the same vein, all the goodbyes bring with them never ending waves of new faces. Yes, always making new friends is exciting, but it can be tiring as well.

Another challenge faced by expats around the world, but especially in countries where we obviously stick out, is the ever-present awareness that we will always be guests in our own home. While we may feel more familiar and comfortable with our adopted land than our native one, we will never truly be treated as a local simply because we don’t look the part.

So that begs the question, do we throw our efforts into fitting in with the nationals, or stick to the expat community? To fully immerse oneself in local culture is lauded as the noble approach to living abroad. But sometimes our emotional and mental health demand sympathetic ears and a haven of familiarity.

That same haven is one that judges not when we vent the over-sensitivities we’ve developed–sensitivities to innocent gestures such as non-expats telling us they understand. We know the remarks are well-intentioned. For all we know, they may understand more than we give them credit for. We know we’re overreacting! And yet, we just want someone to acknowledge that the words we desperately grasp for will never fully describe the intricacies of life in a foreign culture.

One such intricacy is navigating a vastly different approach to work flow and communication. As an American, I have certain expectations for how an efficient work environment assigns tasks, communicates details and gives prior notice. However, some cultures like the Rwandan one seem to thrive on spontaneity. Impromptu speeches are just as common as outbursts of musical and/or dance solos. Personally, I find my native work culture the hardest to let go, and so it must be a daily, intentional decision.

While all this is going on, life continues without us at home. We do our best to participate from afar, and granted, technology has made it so much easier. But inevitably, our lives will drift farther and farther away the longer we’re abroad.

When it’s finally time to come home, we brace ourselves for reverse culture-shock, fully aware it’s coming. Yet it still hits us every time in the ways we least expect it. Something as simple as walking into a grocery store can inexplicably overwhelm us; or driving down the freeway. As difficult as culture shock can be, reverse culture-shock is a million times worse.

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I realize that this whole time I’ve been saying “we” and “us,” but what I really mean by that is not me, the girl who’s been in Africa for less than three months. I don’t even necessarily mean those of us here for a year or two. Though we certainly have gotten a taste of these challenges, I’m really talking about the expats who are here year after year, watching all their friends leave and never fully being able to explain their daily life.

So here’s what I’m asking you to do:

Let the expats in your life know that they are not forgotten. Don’t force them to talk; don’t pretend to understand. Just let them know that even though you are here and they are there, you still care. Mail and care packages are guaranteed to put a smile on their faces, but even something as simple as a tag on Facebook reminds them they’re still on your mind.

Love an expat today, and believe me: we’ll appreciate it.