Creating Friendships as an Expat

#ThankGodforSelfTimers

I’ve been writing for wordly for about 2 years now and every month out of these 2 years I was thinking about writing this: a piece on friendship. Why was it so hard for me to write? I am not sure. Maybe I didn’t want to offend some people - maybe I was just scared of facing the reality. For now, I’ve decided that the importance of this is higher than my insecurities. Yay for personal liberation! It is a gift for myself and (hopefully) everyone else for wordly’s second birthday.

I always had friends but I felt alone a lot of times even when I was a kid. When I was bullied in my school I still wanted to be my tormentos’ friend. It was very hard for me to imagine being friendless even if it did come with tears brought on by my so-called ‘friends’. It is weird how the urge for remaining social overpowered basics like pride, and self-respect. When you live in a small town you are chained to the friendships you formed when you were a kid. Meeting new people is, of course, possible but when are you planning on hanging out with them if you are going to a different school?

Upon my move to the US I wasn’t really worried about creating friendships. I was just not thinking about it. I had a million things to be nervous about and finding someone to hang out with was far far down on my list. After all: I was about to join the love of my life. Why would I even think about other people?!

Ah, naive girl. Who would have thought that building a healthy life would entail creating friendships with other people, right? To make your fortress stronger you need to create allies. Unless it is a Fortress of Solitude. Then, you know, it’s optional.

Andrew’s friends became my friends. Or to put it better: my acquaintances. I was ‘cool’ for about a second in his friend group mostly because people were relieved (excited?) to see I was, in fact, real. I am assuming all the talking Andrew did before my move here led them to believe I might be fictional. You never know! Maybe it is all a lie and I don’t really exist. Maybe no one exists and we are just a part of some video game. Maybe...alright, that’s enough insanity for one paragraph.

My first Nashville friend found me. Or we found each other and never really let go. Whenever Andrew tried to say ‘B is my friend too’ I would flip since:
a) I was possessive
b) She was the only friend I had

We met at a Returned Peace Corps Volunteers event and even though I have never been a PCV - Andrew was. That means I belong, right? She had just moved to town and was looking for friends. She was waaaay more proactive than I was in forming friendships and I will be forever thankful that she was.

Right now our womance (there is bromance. I am fighting for womance. This has to be a thing) developed into being neighbors and life became exponentially easier. I don’t even know how NOT to live on the same street with my best friend. That’s just crazy talk!

Both of us make sure our friendship work. We put time and effort into us. I understand clearly that friendship, just like any other relationship, is hard work.

That’s probably where I went wrong in the beginning: believing that Sex and the City-type careless friendships stand a chance in the ‘real world’. HA!. Work, time, desire, and effort has to be put into a friendship in order for it to work. As soon as I realized this - it became so much easier to form friendships. Even in my not-so-teenage age.

As we continued to create a bond, one weird thought kept creeping in. Will I be able to have a fruitful and mutually stimulating friendship even when I am not speaking my own language? Of course this wasn’t the first time I had this thought. With Andrew it was different. He had spent 2 years in Ukraine and had an understanding of the Ukrainian soul so to say. My friends didn’t.

There is something about culture that sits deep inside of you and no matter how accepting or open you are - it will forever be a part of you. No matter how good your command of the foreign language is some things will remain unsaid, always. And that’s a big thing to hold on to especially when forming friendships. It is like you are unintentionally lying to everyone around you and feel a bit fraud-ish but you can’t really say anything.

If you ask me if it’s possible to create life-long, honest bonds with people while living in a new county - I will say yes, but nothing is ever 100%.

There are things I will forever crave and won’t stop reminiscing about. Things like sitting in a small soviet-style kitchen with a girlfriend and talking until the wee hours. Drinking wine and poking at cheese. Sneaking an occasional cigarette and opening all the windows so the other roommates won’t find out. Talking and talking and talking about life and sorrows and regrets… It might sound ‘depressing’ but it is like a free version of a shrink.

Maybe that’s why psychiatrists are so popular in the US. Americans tend to not ‘bother’ other people with their problems. Don’t get me wrong: I see both sides of the coin. However, I was also brought up in a different culture and seeing and understanding the other side of the coin doesn’t necessarily mean following it or choosing it as a favorite.

At the end of the day creating friendships as an expat is hard. Creating friendships when you are older is hard. Building bonds with people from a different culture is kind of a base for being an expat. Integration is crucial but how do you integrate without betraying yourself?

About a year ago I reached a point where friendships with Americans were just not completely ‘it’ for me. I needed those late-night kitchen talks. I needed to shed a tear about everything that is happening and I needed a friend to be there and to hear me. I needed a Ukrainian or Russian speaking friend. I needed a save. My attempts at finding someone to be friends with by going to the Nashville Eastern European store did not end up being a success. To this day (even though I shop at that store fairly frequently) they address me in English when I walk in. For them I am gone. I can’t be Ukrainian. I am an American now. However, I was determined to put all of that aside and find me a friend (gosh, the things you have to do when you live in a foreign country). I was ‘fishing’ (I know it sounds gross but that is what I was doing, trust me) for anyone who would be remotely right for the part. After awkward chats with new mommies and grandmas who don’t leave their house unless they are going to the Ukrainian store - I had to admit defeat.

The Universe is a mysterious lady. When you really need something or someone - she will put in a request for you. And so, my request was granted and one day I received a message from a girl named K, who had just moved to Nashville from Kyiv. She could have been a serial killer but I did not care: I needed a native friend. STAT. Full disclosure: she is not a serial killer. Or at least she hasn’t revealed her identity just yet.

Each time I lived in the States I had a couple Ukrainian or Russian speaking friends. I always called them my ‘circumstantial’ friends just because we were bound to communicate somehow because the thirst for the native tongue is real, y’all. Funny enough, my ‘circumstantial’ friends are still some of the closest people in my friend circle. Some of my ‘true’ friends are no longer interested in having a friendship with me. Funny how that worked out.

And here I am, twenty six and no cafeteria to make friends with during lunch hour. I should just create an app for expats looking for friends. Unfortunately, there is no one here to kid: that app will turn into a ‘date a foreigner’ shindig faster than the speed of sound. Or a free immigrant registry for the current administration.

If you live in Nashville I am looking for more friends! Here is what I have to offer:

• My addiction to coffee
• Occasional tears of desperation
• My obsession with Harry Potter
• Ukrainian chocolates on me
• Sarcasm and eye rolls
• Mimosas
• Candles and notebooks
• Free advice on any topic (please use this with caution and at your own risk. No responsibility will be taken from the actions that inevitably come out of that advice)
• I can’t be the muscle of any operation just yet but I can turn on my Ukrainian face and verbally destroy any or all of your enemies

Beware: you will have to take pictures of me at random places ‘cause Instagram (insert eyeroll). But I am an ok human, I swear. And the best part is - I can talk to a tree if I have to in case you were nervous about potential awkward pauses.

Today I am very grateful to have the friends that I do here in Nashville. They are amazing humans who for some reason don’t hate my company. I try my best to be an equal partner in all of my friendships and put in work and time into nourishing something as fragile as human relationships. So, next time you can’t find a person to go do things with - shoot me a text. We will give this whole friendship thing a try.