So You Want to Expatriate
For the last six months, I've been deliberately oversharing on social media because so many people have asked me what the expat process is like and it's just been easier to be open about it. I've shared a lot about the differences in culture between the Czech Republic and the US, the language, common history, politics, etc, but I haven't gone into explaining about the process itself: with starting a new life abroad comes a ton of bureaucratic tape, and not all of it is in English. This post is mostly for those who are interested in expatriating and what worked well for me and didn't work well, even if you're looking elsewhere than "Czechia." (lol get a load of this guy, trying to go by "Myanmar" when he's actually Burma, get real).
1. DO YOUR RESEARCH. The question I get asked most is "why the Czech Republic?" Before I even started looking at other countries, I needed to narrow down what it was about Seattle that I was attempting to escape. The cost of living and the quality of life were two things I needed to compare in whatever place I ended up. I started crunching numbers with international cities and made a baseline of what cities I could live in that were similar, just to get an idea. Among those cities were Paris, Dresden, Munich, Milan, Brussels, Amsterdam, Oslo, Osaka, Incheon, and Copenhagen. All of these places had their own perks stemming from the influence of Western European culture but they were also all on the Euro. If you're going to be working overseas, there's a chance you'll be getting paid from overseas depending on what job you secure, so when it comes to the Euro replacing your dollar, even though you may be getting paid in USD, there's a chance it won't extend as far as it would in places like Ukraine, Thailand, or Poland.
So it was narrowed down to places not on the Euro, which left me with places where I'd need to join a tribe and get a Travel Channel special or in a place living way below my means and having someone from the US sponsor me for just pennies a day. Then it came to down to places I had been to before, so in this case it was the Czech Republic, Poland, South Africa, and Zimbabwe. I had traveled to Central and Eastern Europe in 2009 and remembered it incredibly fondly. The terrain was something pretty to look at, like if Wisconsin actually had some substance. The people had a resting bitch face attitude like I do, and my dollar could go further here than anywhere else.
Another facet I had to research was if there is an existent expat community where I wanted to go. Is there any kind of social safety net where you can locate people who speak and write the same language as you? Is learning a language with clicks and hieroglyphics going to hinder the time you'll be spending wishing you had picked another location to move to? Am I going to let that dangling preposition bother me? No.
The cost of living in Brno is 70% less than it is in Seattle. How bad is Seattle? There are BRAND NEW "micro studio" apartments, as in a 270 square foot dorm room with a shared bathroom with other tenants in the building for $900 a month. Seattle used to be an affordable, liberal haven on the West Coast that shook its head at the San Francisco smugness and the even worse Los Angeles traffic all the while remaining creative, progressive, and still one step ahead of Portland. This factor alone combined with the possibility of losing my health insurance was enough to get me to start this research in the first place, as living in Seattle with an auto-immune disease was becoming increasingly unsustainable.
Since a move to Africa seemed a little too reverse Mean Girls, I started looking at the actual immigration process for both the Czech Republic and Poland. Actually, let me back up.
You know how every election there's one person who's like Fuck this I'm moving to Canada and I'm never coming back! but they don't move? The reason people don't move to Canada because it has a super strict immigration policy and they can't. If you can't prove you have expertise in areas that will directly benefit very specific sections of the economy, you ain't gettin' in. Since most of the people I know disagree with the president yet they're biochemical engineers, oil field design specialists, or data IT farmers, they're not moving.
Anyway, back to what I was saying. Once you've thrown your dart at your Google Map and had it successfully puncture land and not water, research the immigration policies by looking at expat forums from those countries. A lot of these forums have insights on current job openings, various immigration situations from student visas to marital situations, and what government offices to navigate once you've arrived and in most cases, which language to pursue while doing so. It was in this process that I discovered a trade license for the Czech Republic called a Živnostenský list, which allows me to be self employed as long as I can prove I have the funds to move. I would select areas of work that I'd most likely be self employed in, such as customer service, teaching English, writing/editing, and IT. Most countries don't take kindly to people overstaying their visas or thinking they're going to become a brand new citizen with a backpack, dreads, and $20 they got from busking in another country in which they overstayed illegally. So make sure you qualify for your chosen country's legal immigration process. Otherwise you'll just be Patty from accounting who keeps bitching that Canada has better healthcare than the US at whatever chance she gets. So that brings me to my next point:
2. Save your money. When you apply for the appropriate visa in your country, chances are you'll need to prove that you have money. If you're applying for a student visa, this may be less important, but these are also the most common visas that people overstay. They graduate and just become an illegal lifer wherever they are. In my case, I sold my car and everything else and lived a very very thrifty lifestyle for the last few months before I left the US while putting everything else on a credit card that gets airline miles for an airline I don't fly anymore.
Some countries will have different limitations on what you can have. For instance, I needed at least $5,500 in my account as well as an official notarized statement proving it. You'll also need to prove that you'll be able to maintain that amount, which is currently difficult. In the Czech Republic, you need a Živnostenský list (called a "zivno") AND a long stay visa in order to work, so right now, I'm biding my time by eating cheap cheese and walking a lot of places. I'm currently forgoing clothing hangers at the moment because I need to save money, but I'm lucky that the exchange rate between the Czech koruna and the US dollar is in my favor.
If you're retired, fucking awesome! Lots of people retire to Central and Eastern Europe because they can live above their means with the money they have left. But this also means that they no longer have any incoming income, so it's a toss up with what you'll end up doing in the end. Hopefully dying happy knowing you lived a good life.
3. Wager your sacrifices/comfort. When I say that, I'm referring to taking stock in what you're leaving behind and what your expatriation will mean for other people, friends, family, or coworkers. I applaud the people who uproot their family of four to a country where the language is difficult all because dad had a weird dream one night. I decided to move because I wasn't in a relationship and I had just lost my job at a furniture consignment store, something that was hardly integral to the creation of a career. So what was I clinging to? Expensive rent?
(also sidenote I swear I just heard a seagull but that can't be right).
After the plug on the move was pulled, I made a list of things that would bring me back to the US, most of which were incredibly bleak. These circumstances varied from deaths in the family to the somewhat likeliness of a nuclear war breaking out. And when I say "bring me back," I mean cancel my lease, repack everything, ship everything, not buying-a-return-ticket bring me back. Moving from Minneapolis to Seattle in the past was in some ways minor preparation for this journey, a scrimmage or pre-season game. No big life changes in the first year of sobriety! I was told, but I returned to my hometown to protect my sobriety and I knew that staying in Minneapolis would mean coming out of retirement. But this time around, with my sobriety safely guarded, I wasn't moving to protect anything. I was moving for me. And the cool part is, you know what? If any of this happens to suck, I can always move back. Having a great support network allows me to make these types of decisions, but I understand not everyone can make grandiose ideas become reality in one night.
You'll also need to prepare yourself for some pushback from people after you've made the decision to move. When I first told people I was moving, I was met with concerns that had simple solutions. But you don't know the language! I can learn it. Do you know anyone there? I'll meet people. I don't want to trivialize valid concerns, but when I was met with opposition, it wasn't discouraging; it only pushed me further and made me more determined to leave. Others may come across these difficulties and fold right there. You're right, I don't know anyone so living in a country where English is not the chosen first language may not be the correct path for me. And you know what? There's nothing wrong with that. Maybe Amsterdam is more your style. Everyone speaks English because they realized lol fuck us no one is going to learn Dutch, it's a ridiculous language. But the Czechs held on tight and will make it very clear to you they speak Czech and so will you.
Like I said, this pushback made me all the more determined in my search for a different life. For the last five months, all I've done is research (see Step 1). I constantly have over ten tabs open on my computer of PDF forms in Czech and English, a currency conversion calculator, a tram line map, a tram line ticket pricing guide, a tram line offices guide, regional train ticket website, private health insurance guide, public health insurance guide, Netflix, and Facebook. Research became my part time job before moving. I was up on my phone at night even after I shut my laptop lid for the evening. I was seeking out new sections of bookstores and language websites. I picked up a phrasebook and started practicing preemptively.
4. Get involved in expat stuff, but not too involved. Prague is famous for this bubble in Prague 2, which is a section that's teeming with expatriates from many other first world nations. These expats rarely venture out of their bubble and become dependent on their surroundings in their own language, sort of what the Italian immigrants did with Little Italy and the Russians with Brighton Beach. Once you arrive, it's nice to be able to know other people and have some security, but after a while, you'll probably need to register with the foreign police or go on a journey where everyone in your train carriage is speaking every language but your own.
It's going to be okay, but it's going to be uncomfortable as fuck. Even today, I went to pick up my 30 day tram pass from the local office here in Kralovo Pole and I asked the woman Mluvíš anglicky? She immediately responded with ne. So we kind of stood there and looked at each other for a minute. I got out my phone and used Google Translate and she responded using the same tool on her computer. We were able to have a slow conversation that took a few minutes, but I got the information I needed and thanked her and left.
Expats are going to be really handy with knowing other events in your own language and other hangouts in your town, unless you're the first expat - good for you! And since Facebook is essentially an entity all on its own now, use it for good and not stalking your exboyfriend. There are a ton of Facebook expat groups dedicated to finding housing, offering language exchanges (you help with my Czech while I help with your English), buy/sell/trade, job offers, etc. I'm in roughly ten of these and I was able to get connected to a website to find my apartment and another job board that posts jobs for bilingual candidates or jobs in need of native English speakers. Let the expat experience be a tool but not your lifeline.
5. HIRE A VISA AGENCY. I don't trust myself to handle my paperwork, visas, signatures, affidavits, appointments, and all of the bureaucratic nonsense that comes along with moving to a different country, so it turns out there are agencies that do it for you! Whaaaat super awesome. I'm using an agency in Prague that I contacted a few months ago. They praised me for getting a jump on this before I left since most people land in Prague and the countdown starts from their 90 day visa-free stay in order to get legal. No place to live, no job, etc. So a team originally from Pittsburgh helped me out with what documents they needed, what I needed to fill out, what needed to be translated, etc. They make the appointments, I show up. For instance I have a visa appointment in Berlin in late November. They'll interview me to make sure I am who I say I am and that I'm qualified for what I'm putting down as my list of trades. It's basically a job interview to live in another place. AND you don't want to be deported because you didn't have your ducks in a row, so it's best to let someone do that who has not only has done it themselves.
I'm sure there's a ton more I could be talking about and stuff that hasn't even occurred to me yet, which is why having a blog is handy since you can ramble anytime, anywhere. A lot of this is Czech-specific. But I'll leave you with this (puts mic back in the stand): the easiest countries to immigrate to if you are NOT a student or legally single/not married are the Netherlands and the Czech Republic. Or just marry a broad you meet on the internet I don't know who cares WHOZZISS GUY THINK HE IZZ ahhhh okay time for bed.
One Week
I didn't realize until last night that my planning has been going really smoothly and I haven't encountered many hiccups along the way: no crashing browsers in the middle of purchasing airline tickets, most emails are replied to within 24 hours, and with enough intensive Googling, I can find the answers to most of my questions. I'm feeling strong and confident. And after beating the shit out of United Healthcare and knowing I'll never have to deal with them ever again, I'm feeling pretty good.
Part of me was wondering if this move, the apex of the biggest decision I ever made, was some sort of travel mania I was experiencing as a result of European separation anxiety, which, let's admit, that's the whitest thing I've probably ever typed. Half of my family has this huge knack for going above and beyond to experience the ultimate wanderlust at whatever cost. I use the word "wanderlust" hesitantly because it's such a Pinterest loving, university experiencing, privileged Instagramming phenomenon.
You know, this kind of bullshit.
I was reassured the sense of mania which arose was more of a longing or yearning for change, a chance to do something for me. Mania would have meant I decided to go to Europe the next day and emptied my bank for a one way ticket and left my apartment and kitty behind. Instead, this exodus for a better life, cost of living, even pseudo-socialism, was planned in a methodical, systematic way to navigate away from the challenges and worries I've successfully avoided.
Wanderlust isn't documenting it for everyone else except you. The last time I went to Europe, I wanted to be selfish with my experiences and I prevented anyone from accompanying me. I went on my eight-week trek alone and corresponded with those who needed updates regarding my whereabouts. I'd update Facebook when I was leaving one place and arriving in the next, which was effective since most people know if I haven't posted on social media in more than 24 hours, something's amiss and a Liam Neeson type character may need to be contacted. I documented my trip through extensive writing and pictures with the camera I last owned before succumbing to a phone with a camera feature. I knew I'd be back, I just didn't know when. Someone once told me the average American makes it to Europe once every seven years, even though definitions of "average American" are drastically different. All numbers aside, I see it as more of a pilgrimage and less of a visit expedition.
With kitty on my back, I'll be flying into Frankfurt for a tight little connection before the hour long flight to Prague. After arriving in Prague, I have about a three hour journey by car to Brno. All in all the journey will be roughly 14 hours for me and 18 for kitty. The minimal anxiety I have right now is having to take Patrick out of his carrier twice in order to pass through security check points. I have a little rocket ship backpack he'll be traveling in out and open on my floor so he can approach it instead of me shoving him into an unknown airline approved abyss at the last minute. Last week I managed to take him out for a small walk in it. His unstable weight made me unstable as well and it took him a minute to adjust to not traveling in a crate at my side. I talked with him as he looked out of his capsule at the surrounding condominiums, trees, asphalt, and changing leaves. After we got back indoors and I unzipped him from his container, he didn't bolt away and hide and hiss like cats do. He calmly walked out of it and rubbed against the framing, a good sign.
The reports I've found online have given me conflicting reports. Some sites tell me that once we pass through security at Sea-Tac, he'll be able to stay in there all the way to Bohemia and he'll only have to endure a security screening one time. Other sites tell me that once I arrive at my transfer point in Frankfurt, I'll have to go through passport control and take him out of his carrier again, at which time I'll have an hour and fifteen minutes to complete. It will be tight, but I've also heard of these famous "express lanes" for passengers who have connecting flights under 90 minutes...but we'll see.
A sneak preview of me trying to run through Frankfurt International Airport.
At the end of September, I moved out of the apartment I've been living in on Beach Drive. Oooooh Beach Drive, how fancy! Yeah, except I was living in a closet with barely any access to natural light and a ton of IKEA furniture, 90% of which I was able to resell during some mostly not sketchy situations via Facebook Marketplace. Most of the messages I received were just numbers a lot lower than what I placed the item at originally. 30. 45. 20.
No "hi" or "hello, I was inquiring about the like new piece of flatpack furniture you've placed upon the internet for those to peruse during the late night hours before bedtime?" Or whatever. Having worked in furniture and consignment for a bit, I was pretty confident placing prices on items that were hardly showing any signs of wear but definitely weren't new. After selling everything I could, I racked up about $900. I also spoke with my apartment complex and I'll be getting only $100 less from my original deposit because this broad knows how to spackle.
I went to Minnesota for a few days to say some much needed goodbyes and for a few stints of stage time. I headlined the club I started at in 2011, which has now changed hands something like 5-6 times. Upon landing, I immediately went into autopilot for navigating through the city and suburbs but then remembered lingering road construction from the summer was a thing and ended up traveling on streets I never knew existed until this weekend. The rental car company rented me a Chrysler 300 because why the fuck not, and it was a nice lil pick me up after having sold my car the week before. I saw my old roommate's two-year-old who is very adamant with her "yes" and "no" answers even though she doesn't really take "no" for an answer. She showed me Peppa Pig and her dad's guitars and the garden and pond in their backyard. I ate Culver's for breakfast one morning. Between the Vikings not doing that well and the goofy accents, Minnesota hasn't changed that much.
She's right.
Tonight I'm going to my last AA meeting before I leave Seattle. What I'm about to write may receive some pushback, but you know I'm not one to bullshit (at least I hope you know) and I'm going to be honest about how I feel in regards to my sobriety:
I no longer consider myself as someone "in recovery." In my eyes, the term "recovery" implies that I am weak or in constant need of care, attention, or help. Today, in my 32 month journey of "sobriety" (which I don't use interchangeably with "recovery"), I see myself as someone who is sober, someone who abstains from mind altering chemicals. Keep in mind, the definitions of sobriety or recovery are different depending on who you talk to. In the AA realm of sobriety, some people don't even take prescription medication, even if it's under the care of a doctor with specific instructions. Others use a method of "marijuana maintenance," a term I've become less fond of in recent months because although it may be a substitute for alcohol, you're still technically abstinent from alcohol.
I maybe average one meeting a month now. I haven't had a sponsor in over a year, and I don't work the 12 steps because I don't see the correlation of the claim to sobriety and not drinking. If alcoholism is a gene, or a chemical mutation or however you want to vaguely put it, then shouldn't it require a scientific solution? The Big Book (or Grandpa Big Book, as some people put it because grandfathers sometimes say things they don't mean or shouldn't or use antiquated terms for phenomena which have grown throughout the decades and manifested into something new or helpful) mentions that because alcoholism is a scientific disease, it needs a scientific solution. Yet, only the first step mentions alcohol.
When I began to do my fourth step about two years ago, the step where you need to write down all of your resentments, your entire sexual history, your fears, and everything you've done wrong in hopes that some of these things could be cleansed by turning your will over to something not all of us believe in, I was instructed to go to five meetings a week. Some of these meetings had 12 people, others had more than 100. In each circumstance, the same story arose within different stories of sobriety. "I've gone through treatment 10 or 12 times and let me tell you, this program works." Clearly it doesn't. It isn't a one size fits all program, however the treatment network in America treats it as such. Occasionally I still meet someone who is surprised I haven't relapsed.
You have 32 months? Well what did you have before that?
In my experience, there's a general sense of shame that comes along with Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. Unless I'm going to do the steps with a sponsor and go to meetings, I'll surely relapse. And if I do, it's because I didn't do just that.
But I haven't relapsed. I feel stronger than ever after I made the biggest decision I've ever made next to getting sober in the first place. I've encountered people who have said, "Oh, well you don't have a sponsor? Good luck out there!" in a tone matched by Bill and Bob in the Big Book. It's incredibly condescending towards atheists and women, and since the last serious revision of this book was done sometime during the Cold War, it doesn't make sense to me that there needs to be this ultimate solution to alcoholism. If I don't drink, I can't get drunk, and I know that if I relapse or "go back out" as it's put in program terminology, I'll die. I know that. But isn't that enough? Why do I need to be guilt tripped into doing something I don't believe in? Something that will shame me and separate me from others when the whole point is to unite us under one common addiction? The only reason I still attend sporadic meetings is because they're the only place I can meet others like me, others who had their lives destroyed by their chemical dependency. These people all happen to be in the same place as the system sets it up that way, but in turn, only 4-6% are successful. This attitude of "ride or quite possibly die" in Alcoholics Anonymous has even been incorporated in meme culture. Here's a few I found in a quick Google Image search:
Obviously these memes touch on a few different issues, but nowhere in my Google search did I ever see Leonardo DiCaprio or Keanu Reeves saying something like "Hey, whatever keeps you sober!" If anything, this attitude has isolated me from the program. I don't believe in god, whether it's your god, her god, whoever, and because of that, I can't force meaning onto something I don't believe in. Friends stopped calling me. I stopped getting invited to places. People who were really avid comedy fans stopped attending my shows, and I'd hate to think it was because I've found medical methods that work for me aside from Alcoholics Anonymous: seeing a therapist/psychiatrist, taking medication, visiting r/stopdrinking, reminding myself every day that I have a drinking problem and if I go back to my old ways, all of the progress I've made for myself will be erased.
All that being said, I've located an Alano club in Brno so if I feel that I need to attend a meeting, I can. There's English speaking meetings twice a day, one at noon and one at 7pm at a place not too far from my apartment. We all have the same goal, so why does it matter so much how we get there?
I leave one week from today. One week from right now, I'll be on a plane somewhere over Canada thinking about all of the regrets I have in regards to my journey. I have two boxes to ship, three open mics, and one more show to do. One more trip to Olympia, one trip to Everett, and a trip to the mall to walk Patrick around in his backpack so he gets used to busy, florescent environments.
It's actually here. I'm a week away.