All this craziness started with me. I was raised in an international household by two immigrant parents, one Asian, one European. I was raised with an awareness that stretched around the world. Then I marry a Canadian. My interest in other cultures continues.
The girls were 11, 7, and 2 when I first had the idea for an other-culture sabbatical. We had raised them in a little suburban bubble in a Canadian city that had my familiar German roots. The girls went to German school on Saturdays to learn my mom’s language, it was sehr gut. I was fond of the bubble we’d made for them, cuz I’d never had one of those bubblies growing up. But a dozen years in, I began to wonder if perhaps they’d benefit from some non-bubbly experiences for greater understanding of the world beyond said bubble.
Then in January 2007, after two years of hardcore lobbying with the spouse that it was a good idea, we went to Guatemala for 6 months. Turns out once you leave the bubble, it can be difficult to get everyone back in, even impossible. The girls became more curious about life outside the bubble and weren’t so eager to return to its lovely familiarity. I won’t say life was better or worse outside the bubble, but I will say it was more complicated.
After the Guatemalan experience I wondered if we could ever find a home base that combined some of what we loved in a developing country with some of the things we missed in a developed country. Was this possible? Could we have clean water so we weren’t always sick or getting bodily infections, great schools but also cultural diversity, tropical climate, other languages spoken, interesting cultural happenings all in one place? Criteria went in, out came Miami. Credit, Paul.
So we moved. See, “Moving to Miami Mayhem.” When we told our people from the North where we were moving I have say I was amused at their responses. The Canadians were much more enthusiastic for us, Florida being a place of sun and fun for them. A few of our American friends poo-pooed our location, “Gawd, I would never live there.” Oddly, it’s usually after those comments that the rebel in us feels we’re on the right track.
Fast forward to Fall 2012, Cali (age 10) did 5th grade in a private all French school that fed into an International middle/high school, which is where Madi (age 14) started as a Sophomore. Kier (17) came back from her gap year in Madrid and went to College in Indiana for her Freshman year. All three of the girls started in a new school.
At College Kier found kindred spirits among the international students. She felt most at home in that group. Her friends were from Mongolia, Ethiopia, Germany, Hungary, oh and Oregon.
We were surprised how quickly South Florida felt like home, with cultural diversity a plenty. Both Madi’s and Cali’s schools, since they were French based, had mostly Haitian students, then Hispanic, then French nationals. The girls were minorities, but were used to that from Guatemala. There was no shortage of extra curriculars, which was similar to their Canadian experience. This area has strong ties to Cuba, Haiti, Venezuela, and Quebec. Their friends were Jewish, Spanish Catholic, Spanish Evangelicals or a creative combination of two. The girls were once again in productions, took lessons, learned karate.
Not once did they attend an American party, but instead were the only American “reps” invited to the segregated parties thrown by the various groups. There was the French nationals fête de nouvelle année, the Haitian extended-clan Sweet 16 where the guest of honor showed up at 11pm, Hispanic Quinceaneras, Jewish Batmisvas. We learned how to translate party start times for each of these groups into real times that wouldn’t make us appear either rude or clueless.
In our experience at Cali’s school, the groups simply did not mix when it came to celebrations. Perhaps the girls were invited because they had no group and were allowed to cross the boundaries. I will never forget C’s 12th birthday party. She invited all her friends. We were told by a number of parents this was the first time all the kids came to a party. Even if they are invited to a kid’s party from the different social group, most parents don’t allow them to attend. We had kids from the French Nationals group, Haitian, Hispanic, Jewish. You could see some of the parents were unsure and didn’t want to leave. Which is no problem, I get that. I invited all of the concerned hovercrafts to stay to watch their kid for the duration, I’d put on some coffee (the only thing all of these cultures can agree on). Initially they stood at the windows and sliding doors in their little groupings, speaking French, Spanish, or Haitian creole. I understand parts of all of these languages, so could tell they were talking about if it was ok to leave. One woman told me that she checked around with the other Haitian parents, they all said we were good people, and that Cali is the nicest girl in school. After a while the parents realized the kids were having a great time swimming and nothing bad was going to happen. Gradually they said, “Well, maybe I’ll just go down the street for a quick coffee,” and they left in their little respective groups. Then they didn’t come back until the end. Cali had bridged the gaps, all of them. The cultural divides weren’t present that day, for one afternoon, in one pool. Brings a huge smile to my face every time I think about it.
Fall 2013, the girls did another school shuffle. Cali graduated to middle school and attended the school Madi went to the year before. Madi decided she wanted to try a bigger school so went to local oublic High School, which had a few thousand students. I was a little nervous about Madi’s first day on the school bus. I told her it may be safest to sit up front close to the bus driver, because that’s what my mama always told me. When she got home I asked her how it went. She said she got on the bus and saw that all the cool guys, who were African American were all sitting in the back. So she walked to the back an sat in the middle of them. They went silent and didn’t know what to do. Then after school before any of them had gotten on the bus she parked herself there again. She instinctually knew that if she got in with those guys, that would be the safest place on the bus. Now she is just one of them.
Kier decided to continue her college studies closer to her sisters, and moved home (yay!!). Kier had a wide variety of campuses to choose from to take her classes. The next door neighbor, an East Indian, heard that she was taking classes on the South Campus, which is almost all African American. She advised that it’s a very “sketchy” campus. Kier challenged her and said, “What do you mean by sketchy.” The girl replied that it was mostly black. Kier said that she hadn’t noticed and that it was her favorite campus. I asked Kier if it that was true, and she said, “Yes, I’m usually the only white girl in my class, but I feel totally at home with that.” Made me smile. The Guatemalan experience has made them appreciate variety.
Fall 2014. For the first time in many years, Cali and Kier didn’t move to a new school. Madi continued on her new-school-every-year track, and opted to do her last year of high school at local College, as an early admit student. Kier and Madi were at the same school. This was also the year of the Green Card, as Paul applied and went through the lengthy process of getting status here. We wanted to make sure we like it here before submitting papers, and by now we knew we did.
In August 2015 we will have lived here for three years, so I feel it’s safe to do an initial poll of this place. We get many visitors, every year. It’s fun to have family friends come to see us. When they are here there is also a lot to do. The lifestyle is great.
Likes
The tropical climate. It’s perfect for me. Couldn’t make it up any better. The rainy season isn’t punishing at all, just a quick shower in here and there. We have breezes coming from the ocean, palm trees, sun every day (with few exceptions), sunsets, tropical trees and plants, birds, flowers year round. Love being able to visit the ocean as often as we want, whenever we want, year-round. I like that people come to visit us. I love, love, love it here, more than I ever thought I would.
Cultural Diversity
I like going into Miami and hearing Spanish. I like going into Little Havana and other parts of the city and seeing pockets of the Caribbean and Central America represented. I like that Cali has friends who she can talk to in multiple languages who come from different countries. Her best friend is Columbian and they communicate in three languages. The answer to my title question is yes. Cultural diversity can be found in a developed country.
Our choice to live here, was bang on. As the years progress, so do our roots in this place. I’m very happy here, and it seems the rest of the family is too. Exhale, long sigh.
