Report card

Today it is officially one year since I stepped off the plane at Arlanda. With a song, with a smile, and with hope in my heart. 12 months on, it's time for a report card. It's probably fair to say that I haven't been won over by my lifestyle change. Not yet. Not today. Anyone who thinks that emmigrating is all about excitement and adventure needs to stop smoking that stuff. The reality is stark and raw. In many ways, being so far from good old New Zealand has saved me. Had I come from England, I would have chucked this in long ago and taken the 3 hour flight back to contentment and familiarity. Hell, I would have driven there. But the spectre of a 40 hour plus flight for people, pets, and belongings, has forced me to stick this out. As much of a nightmare as it has been at times. Let's look at the then and now. My plan when I arrived was to slot straight into a Swedish way of life, get a job, buy a house, and live the good life. That was the plan. Today, I have a job, and I own a house. So I guess that's a 50% pass rate. And, to be fair, I don't have a crap life, so maybe we can up that to about 60%. Still a ways short of the 100% I expected to have achieved, with no trouble. Unrealistic ? Absolutely. The biggest mistake I have made, and I see many others also, was in assuming that there would be no cultural differences. After all, I'm european, Sweden is european. It all looks the same from a distance. Wrong. I was totally under prepared for the differences in society. And I'm not just talking about language here. Although obviously that's a biggie. Just the way they do things. Often it's nothing tangible. It's nothing you can really describe. It's just, well, foreign. 9 million people believe that black is really red. And you can scream your lungs out, you won't change a thing. The only solution, the only way to survive, is for you to accept that black is now red. And forget what you may have known in a previous life. Fight it, and you will die here. That's the hardest thing. I'll admit, I fought it. A lot. And I still do from time to time. Some things I will just never accept. Not without losing a part of who I have become over the past 40 plus years. There's a very good reason why Swedes mostly live in Sweden. But for the most part, acceptance is slowly but surely creeping over me. I guess I've probably felt a bit more at peace in the last 2 months or so. Which is a promising sign. I had friends in New Zealand who had emigrated from England. They all told me that it took 18 months before a new land felt like home. And if you could last that 18 months, you would be ok. Frankly, after the first couple of months here, I was convinced that I wouldn't last 6 months. Now I've done 12 months. That gives me just more 6 months to hang in there. And to maybe find that missing 40%.