As Switzerland expat Chantal recently expressed, you know you’re a perpetual expat when “people ask where you’re from and you finally have an answer. You say, ‘It’s complicated.’”

While some people relocate to just one country, there are others who, like me, have changed country/continent of residence several times.  My first living abroad experience was in Switzerland in 2002… later I lived in Italy, then Argentina, and now I’m in Italy again.  With the exception of Switzerland, which, while beautiful, was just not my cup of tea, my identity has become so intertwined with the places I lived that I have no idea what to say when people ask where I’m from (which happens often here).  Having two passports does not make things any less complicated.

It’s rather entertaining when they try to guess.  Germany? France?  Uruguay? (Yes, someone in Italy asked if I was from Uruguay and I have yet to understand why.)  They can’t always tell where my strange accent in their language comes from (because it’s mine, all mine!), and I don’t encompass a “typical look” of any one place.

My answer, like Chantal’s, is “it’s complicated”.   This usually draws the curiosity of the asker, and I am launched into my story.  Responses I get are usually in line with “Oh yes, I totally knew it”, which makes me chuckle.

A while ago, a friend shared this video. It’s Argentine and the song is called “De donde sos?” …which means, “Where are you from?”.  It’s sweet and silly (and the guy singing it is cute) and I thought it was perfect for this post.  It defines my “expat type” – the whole reason I started moving abroad in the first place was because I wanted to become part of a place from the inside. What happens really is that the place becomes a part of me and stays that way.

How do YOU answer when people ask where you’re from?

*This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, the expat community site. You can click here to read more posts about expat life written by myself and other bloggers.

I began writing this post in Sea-Tac Airport after a short visit home, while waiting for my flight…home.  When you live abroad, that very word, “home”, becomes a dual-use term.

On one hand, the place you came from, the place where your parents are waiting for you, the place you were raised, will always be home.  It’s what you always go back to.  It’s your original source of identity and most likely the origin of your most comforting memories.

No matter where I live I will always have Seattle.  When I need a sense of comfort, I close my eyes and think of the Puget Sound, smoked salmon and my friends and family.  It’s a place I can always go back to, a place where I can stash my things that I won’t be needing in the rest of the world.  It’s home.

On the other hand, when you live abroad and really settle there, your new country also becomes your home.  It’s where you have your apartment, where you run your errands, where you work and pay the bills.  It’s the place you chose as a grown up, based on your own desires and life experiences.  It becomes a part of you and your identity in a new way.

It hits you that your new home has become, well, home, when you leave that country for a couple of weeks and then come back.  The first time for me was Buenos Aires.  It was the first time I lived somewhere and managed a visit to Seattle while I was at it.  My reentry into Buenos Aires after two weeks in Seattle was like nothing else.  As the taxi passed through Boedo to take me to Once, where I lived, I thought “Wow, I’m home.”

And now Italy.  It does feel different to leave and come back with a single suitcase that I can carry with one hand.  After this trip, I am looking forward to sleeping in my bed, cooking in my kitchen, looking out my window at my castle (ok well it’s not technically mine but you know what I mean), and being in my space, speaking my Italian.  Italy is home.

Although, I once heard someone say that home is where the suitcase is.  Maybe that expression best suits me.

What’s your home?  How many homes do you have?

*This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, the expat community site where you can also buy calling cards to Italy (got that, relatives? I’m waiting to hear from you!) You can click here to read more posts about expat life written by myself and other bloggers.

While I don’t advise stressing out too much over getting ready for an overseas move (because no matter how much you prepare, you won’t be prepared), it is definitely wise to have a few things handy in advance, if only to take the edge off the shock of arrival in your new country.  Here are 3 things that I think are essential for your move to Italy:

1. The Internet. Cherrye recently published a great list of sites to look at before you make your move to Italy, and I second what she says.  While your experience will never be the same as anyone else’s, reading blogs and introducing yourself on forums such as Expats in Italy will be invaluable in your personal preparation.  Not only will you be able to get an idea of mundane life in Italy (yes, I put mundane and Italy in the same sentence), but there is nothing like being just a URL away from others who have already taken the leap.

2. Non-Italian Recipes.  Yes, you’re moving to Italy and you’re excited about the food.  I can’t blame you – we eat well here.  There are more pasta shapes than you can imagine, and the fresh produce is out of this world.  As you travel from region to region (if you can), you will discover all kinds of new dishes.  That said, there will come time when you crave foods from outside of Italy.  If you don’t live in a bigger city, you won’t have access to a lot of international cuisine.  Why not get creative and try to duplicate what it is you’re craving?  I made chocolate chip cookies a couple of weeks ago (for chocolate chips, I could have used “gocce di cioccolato” from Perugina, but since I had a 70% dark chocolate bar, I had fun and chopped that up).  Right now I’m in sort of a Tex-Mex mood and am thinking of making fajitas for my boyfriend on New Years Eve.  (Here’s a great flour tortilla recipe.  For sour cream while in Italy, you can mix mascarpone with lemon juice, or use Total brand Greek yogurt.)

3. A Blog.  Before I discovered what a blog was, when I lived or traveled abroad I would send mass e-mails every week, detailing my adventures and attaching photos.  How wonderful it was to discover blogging!  While e-mails are great for relatives and friends who don’t want to bother looking at a blog, it gets a bit tiresome managing a mailing list.  Not only do I have my writings archived in a single place, blogging has enabled me to reach out to other expats with whom I can share ideas and experiences.

What are your essentials for moving overseas?

*This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, the expat community site where you can also buy calling cards to Italy (got that, relatives? I’m waiting to hear from you!) You can click here to read more posts about expat life written by myself and other bloggers.

Wow.  What a mix of emotions.

I put my heart and soul into organizing the workshops with Maximiliano Gluzman, and they were a success in so many ways.  And then it was over.  If you work in the arts or have ever spent months putting together an event, then you probably know the grief that I’m going through.  You prepare and prepare and prepare, the big day comes, it’s a success and you’re so happy and then…. it’s done.  You run on adrenalin, high as a kite, and then you CRASH.

I think this past week with Maxi has to have been one of the best weeks I’ve had this year.  He brought Buenos Aires back to me and I enjoyed getting to know him so much.  What a fun, genuine, amazing guy.  Really.  After dropping him off at the airport, I cried.  My happy tango week was over!  AND it was my last happy tango week in Seattle for a while.  Never mind that there will be many other happy tango weeks in many interesting places, and that I will come back to Seattle, this was my first event that I planned all by myself.  All the work, the love, the spirit I put into it made me exhausted.  But it was totally worth it.  It taught me that if you’re convinced of something and you move forward with all your heart, totally committed, magic happens and you will have success.

All of this has left me with just a few days to prepare for Italy.  It’s the strangest thing, trying to be excited for a big move across the ocean while waxing nostalgic over an amazing week with friends at the same time.  What’s a girl to do, except charge forward?

And how is it that I’ve managed to accumulate so much stuff over the past 6 months when I haven’t even bought anything?  Let the packing begin…

I’m running around, publicizing as much as I can for Maximiliano Gluzman’s workshops.  I’m really looking forward to his visit, and watching him enrich Seattle’s already lovely tango community with his magic touch.  I’m putting my heart and soul into this and really want it to go well.  I am convinced of his magic.

After he leaves I’ll have just a few days to prepare for my next big adventure.  I’m not sure how I feel about it.  It would be nice to stay in Seattle a little longer to enjoy my time with my friends here, and to save up more money so I can be a little more relaxed while looking for work when I get to the old country.  But, everything will come into place as it always does, so I’ll just keep moving forward.

You can read a piece I wrote about preparing for a big move, by clicking here.

Someday, when I can, I’m going to go to Morocco.

And when I get to Marrakech, I’m going to stay here.

That’s all for today.

Gypsy souls are often misunderstood. I’ve had people say “Oh what a nice extended vacation you’re on!”

Vacation? Vacation from what?

Vacation is an escape – and I don’t feel like I am escaping. I am home. What is home? My home is myself – that’s the life of a nomad. My home is wherever I am. Right now that’s Buenos Aires. I’m working while I’m here – almost every day. If I were on vacation I wouldn’t be working. I have picked up my life and moved it to a different place for a while. I am doing the exact same thing I did in Seattle. Same job, same obnoxious alarm clock at 6 in the morning (just ask my roommates), same worries, same bills (but different place to rent), everything is the same except there is more Tango here and I am speaking Spanish on the street.

Nomadic souls aren’t on vacation when we move somewhere for a while. Believe me, I have seen to it that I have some time off while I’m here, but I insist that I am not on vacation and I’m a little tired of hearing it. I’m too productive (work-wise) to be on vacation. Just because I’m freelance doesn’t mean my job is easy or stress free. And just because I’m in a beautiful place and not in the United States doesn’t mean I’m on vacation. And just because I’m freelance and I travel doesn’t mean I have a lot of money. If that were the case I wouldn’t be living in Once, would I?

Someday people will understand us nomads. I have faith.

One thing I know for sure is that I am happier than ever.

Now, back to that translation…