The Far Side

“How do I cross?” I asked a man in an orange hard-hat as I was on my way to work one morning. I was trying to find a better route to work and the one I took this morning led to a bridge that was undergoing some maintenance. Well, that might be an understatement, amid all the orange diversion signs and wire fencing, and being still very new in town, I was having difficulty finding my way on to the bridge.

“Go across the bridge”, came the reply “You can try walking across the river, but I wouldn't recommend it. The ice isn't thick enough… you could swim I suppose, but again…”. What a joker. He should do stand-up. No, really, what is he doing out here in the cold wearing the latest in plastic orange head fashion? This guy is a genius.

As I got on the bridge and pedaled away on the bicycle I just bought from some guy on Craigslist, the early morning sun flashed through the railings on the side of the bridge while birds walked on the shiny ice below. “I think I've made the right choice”, I thought to myself, riding on to work with a smile on my face.

There are a lot of things one has to take care of when one moves somewhere new. One has to think about where one is going to live, how one is going to get around and where one is going to go. One is going to be going to work, of course, and back home from there, but one needs a lot more options than that. One needs more than one, one needs two or three, four or more. One needs a social life.

It usually starts from colleagues, their friends and their friends’ friends. I haven’t many colleagues and even so, I need people in my social life who are not connected with my work. One place to find them is at an expat meetup. In my experience, a collection of misfits and functional alcoholics mixed in with people who, well, people like me. New in town and no-one to meet.

“Just two weeks!?”, “Already biking around town?”, “I’m sorry, you’re from where?”, “Sono di Milano, sei mai stato?”, “I’m reading my PhD in molecular biology”, “Nee, nee, maar ik heb daar gewoond”, “Yes, and taxes there are really low there, the top rate is just 20%”. The conversations repetitively swirled around, where you are from, what you are doing here, how long you have been here, where else you have been, cultural differences, shop talk, politics, religion, sex.

The crowd died down as the beer kept flowing. I started to feel relaxed and friendly, I hadn't had a decent drink since new year’s. Making friends is not something you can force, but in these situations, you have to make an effort. The evening ended without too much success, though I could try this again. I still carry the place I left with me everywhere I go, I must distance myself from it in order to succeed here. As Rushdie put it, “To be reborn, first you have to die”.

Excuse me, how did you get over to that side?
Huh? I was born on this side. How did you get to your side??