When China Really Is That Far Away

There are trade-offs to being an expat. Living in a foreign land, you are exposed to an array of new people, places, people, foods and ideas. As long as you remain open to it, there is something exotic waiting to be discovered. But you give things up, too, and sometimes you strongly crave comfort, stability and familiarity over excitement, exoticism and newness. I recently discovered this during one of my few moments of true regret about not being home in America.

That occurred on Thanksgiving, when I missed my family's Last Supper.

Friends here sometimes talk with sadness about missing grandmothers' funerals, brothers' weddings, nephews' and nieces' bar mitzvahs and confirmations and other family functions large and small. Everyone has their tales, but we've all made our choices and most of us accept the trade-off we've made, which seems overwhelmingly positive to me. My wife and I have made serious efforts to miss as few big family events as possible, as have many of our friends. With some determination, it feels as though you can have it all. But the world keeps turning no matter where you're standing on it.

My parents recently decided to sell their house in Pittsburgh -- our family abode for 31 years, since I was 10 -- and move to an apartment. I supported their decision, and I was happy that I had the chance to spend some time there in August, kicking around my old stomping grounds and exploring some of the nooks and crannies of the old house. I thought I was fully at peace with the whole thing.

Living abroad has largely lightened my attachment to places and things and made me realize how much it is the people that matter. I thought I would long for our house in Maplewood, N.J., and that it would be weird to return for visits, staying on the same street (at my aunt and uncle's house)and staring across the cul-de-sac to the house that is no longer our home, occupied by a tenant. That has been surprisingly easy. We have crates full of longings" title="n.所有物；行李">belongings in storage somewhere in north Jersey and I've never thought about any of it. I thought I had moved on to a higher plateau. Then my parents' house was actually sold.

The house has been our family's gathering place and refuge for most of my life. It's hard to imagine it being gone, and doing so made me reconsider many of my assumptions and stood on its head my conviction that I was not attached to places. But as much as I already miss that pile of brick and mortars, what really hurt me was being absent from an intimate family gathering, one that felt important to me. When they heard the house was sold, my brother and sister -- in Delaware and New Jersey, respectively -- changed their plans and headed to Pittsburgh for one last holiday together in the Tudor house where we all grew up. I wanted to be a part of it. And I wanted my kids to be a part of it. Suddenly, China felt a long way from home.

Part of this is my attachment to my native city. Displaced Pittsburghers are a unique lot, with strong feelings for the city we left behind. There are Web sites dedicated to the Pittsburgh diaspora, and the editor of editor of one recently wrote me to discuss my different feelings about being an American expat living abroad and a Pittsburgh expat, living in New Jersey. Perhaps becoming an expat was easier because I've long felt like something of an immigrant.

I've heard many friends in China say Thanksgiving is when they feel the most acute longing for home and extended families, but I haven't felt that way before this year. Each year here, I have played a Turkey Bowl football game with a group of Americans, then limped home to host 25-30 people, always including a wide mix of nationalities and at least one person who has never celebrated the holiday before. They all love it and sharing the holiday in this way has been a true pleasure, highlighting the kind of easy cultural exchange that can enliven expat life. It's a big plus on the positive side of the trade-off ledger.

Furthermore, the first time we hosted Thanksgiving and roasted a turkey ourselves was a surprisingly momentous occasion. It made me feel like an adult more than anything else had -- more than getting married, having kids, buying a house or moving to China. It was also one of the first times I really started thinking about some of the ways that moving overseas has liberated me and helped me break out of the roles I used to play without much thought. I am thankful to be blessed with a large, supportive family, but forcing myself to step outside of it for a while has helped me grow up and take full responsibility for myself, and living abroad has been a big part of that process.

Still, these benefits come with a price, which I have not often confronted. Some long-time expats and former expats have told me you don't really grasp this issue until you return to your home country. That was the experience of our friends Maria and Steve Barnett, who returned to the States last year after four years abroad.

Maria was surprised to realize how much she enjoyed her first Thanksgiving back home surrounded by extended family. Like us, she had hosted huge feasts each of her years abroad, reveling in the company of friends and feeling a special closeness in sharing something so American so far from home. Still, she says, 'Being back with family this year reminded me of how much we missed while overseas.'

旅居国外也是有得有失。住在国外，你会遇到到许多不一样的人、能够游走各地、品尝当地食物和并接触各种新的观念。只要你保持开放的心态，总会有别具风味的东西等着你去发现。但你也得放弃一些什么，有时候你会强烈渴望安慰、稳定和亲切感，甚至超过你对兴奋感、异国情调和新鲜事物的喜爱。最近我才体会到了这一点，当时我非常遗憾自己没能在美国的家里。

那是在感恩节的时候，我十分怀念家人的"最后的晚餐"。

这边的朋友有时会伤心地说起自己错过了祖母的葬礼、兄弟的婚礼、侄子侄女的成年礼和坚信礼，以及其他大大小小的家族事件。每个人都有自己的故事，但我们都做出了自己的选择，并大都接受了自己造就的得与失，对我来说这种选择的后果基本上都是积极的。像我们的许多朋友一样，我与妻子尽可能不错过家庭大事。只要有决心，好像可以做到一个不落。不过，无论你在世界的哪个角落，地球都在照样转。

最近我父母决定卖掉匹兹堡的房子，搬到一个公寓去。那所房子是我们一家住了31年的地方，我从10岁起就在那儿住了。我支持他们的决定，也很高兴今年8月我有机会在那儿度过了一段时间，看看我以前玩耍的地方，探寻老房子的角角落落。我觉得我会对这一切处之泰然。

异国生活在很大程度上减轻了我对地方和事物的依恋，让我明白没有什么比"人"更重要。我以为自己会想念我们在新泽西州枫树镇的房子，觉得要是回去看看，住在位于同一条街上的叔叔婶婶家，透过那条死胡同看着我们曾经的家被一个房客占据，那一定会感觉怪怪的。结果那个过程意想不到的轻松。我们把一些装满东西的柳条箱存到了新泽西北边的某个地方，我从来没想起过那些物件。我一度以为自己已经拔高了另一个境界了，直到后来，我得知父母的房子真的卖掉了。

这所房子一直是我们一家人聚会的地方，也是我一生大多数时候的庇护所。很难想像它真的不再属于我们了，而这让我开始反思自己的许多想法，自以为对地方并无依恋之情就是其中一点。不过，虽然那座砖墙灰泥的房子已让我满心怀念了，但真正令我难过的是我没能赶去参加随后那个很重要的家庭聚会。我的兄姐分别住在在特拉华和新泽西，当他们听说房子要卖掉了，就改变了自己的计划，回到了匹兹堡这所护佑我们一起长大的房子里共度了最后一个节日。我也想参加，我还想让我的孩子们也参加。我突然间发现，中国离家是那么那么远。

我的感怀这在一定程度上是源于我对自己家乡城市的依恋。移居他乡的匹兹堡人是个独特的群体，对我们离开的这个城市有着深切的感情。有一些网站专为移居他乡的匹兹堡人所建，最近一位编辑写信给我，和我讨论作为旅居国外的美国人和作为移居新泽西的匹兹堡人有什么不同感受。也许旅居国外更轻松一些吧，因为我在新泽西一直觉得自己有点像移民。

我听许多在中国的朋友说过，感恩节是他们最怀念家乡、想念亲人的时候，但我直到今年才有这种感受。每年在此地，我都跟一群美国朋友来一场"火鸡碗"（译者注：此处是作者对"超级碗"Super Bowl的戏拟）橄榄球赛，然后一瘸一拐地回家，招待25到30个朋友，这些人来自不同国家，而且里面少说也有一个是之前从没过过这个节日的。朋友们都喜欢这种方式，这样过节也是种真正的乐趣，实现了轻松的文化交流，让旅居国外的生活变得有意思。这是国外生活得失天平中的一大"得"。

此外，我们第一次举办感恩节活动并自己动手烤火鸡也是个相当盛大的场面。那一次让我真切地觉得自己是个成年人了──这比结婚生子、买房子、移居中国时的感受都要深刻。那也是我头一次真正开始思考，移居国外在某些方面解放了我，帮我突破了以前习惯扮演的角色。我很高兴自己拥有一个气氛融洽、彼此扶持的大家庭，但强迫自己离开一段时间让我成长起来、对自己负责，而在国外生活就是这个过程的一个重要部分。

不过，这些好处也是有代价的，虽然我并不是常常碰到。一些长时间旅居国外和曾经在国外生活的人告诉我：直到回国以后你才会真正明白这一点。我们的朋友玛丽亚(Maria)和斯蒂夫•班内特(Steve Barnett)夫妇的经历就是如此，他们在国外生活了四年，去年回到了美国。

玛丽亚发现到她在回国后和一大帮家人共同度过的第一个感恩节给她带来了莫大的快乐，这一点实在出乎她的意料。像我们一样，她在国外时也每年都举行超大规模的聚会，在离家万里的地方以一种很"美国"的方式跟朋友一起尽情狂欢，感受一份特别的亲近。但她说："今年回到家人中间我才知道，自己在国外的时候错过了多少东西。"
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