Thanks to my best friend who introduced me to this article, I got to read this on page 88 of Marie Claire July 2006 edition. Reading this article made me think about how much pain Sabine must have gone through as a TCK. My sincere hope is that Sabine is aware of the TCK issues and has been able to put language in her identity and experience.

————

Sabine Kuegler, 33, spent an idyllic childhood in remote West Papua. When she finally left the jungle for her native Germany at age 17, the culture shock was crippling. Here, her story

As TOLD TO KATY REGAN

The MOMENT I ARRIVED in the Lost Valley will stay with me forever. It was January 1980, I was 7 years old, and my family had already spent a year living in a small jungle base in West Papua, Indonesia, where my parents, both linguists were studying tribes.

My father was in a more remote area, documenting the undiscovered language and culture of the Fayu tribe, untouched by the outside world. We couldn’t wait to join him and set up a home there indefinitely. We stepped out of the helicopter into a towering rain forest. It was eerily deserted- just the propellers whirling, only my father to greet us. Out of the trees came tribesmen, naked except for bones through their noses and feather headdresses, carrying stone axes. My sister panicked. But the tribe was scared, too- they had never seen white children before. They even rubbed our skin to see if it was black underneath.

The Fayu tribe was so isolated that members didn’t even know they lived in Indonesia. But my father respected their culture and earned their trust. They became like our family.

One boy especially stole my heart. Ohri was disabled, and my family took him under our wing. And soon, he could walk. He was a big reason I stayed in the jungle for long- I loved him like a brother.

Nothing could have prepared us for life in the Lost Valley. We had only a simple wooden house with no running water or electricity. We had to radio in to the base every morning to let them know we were OK. The Fayu were cannibals, and even though we never witnessed this ourselves, there was always the risk that they might eat us.

Other Fayu beliefs were dangerous, too. In November 1983, we found Ohri desperately ill. His chest was covered in mold, and he had a terrible skin infection. He had been burned in a fire, and the wound was left open. His people believed it was his punishment for eating forbidden crocodile. My mother bathed the wound, and after several weeks, he got better. Had we left the tribe to its own devices, Ohri would undoubtedly have died.

Apart from things like this, it was an idyllic life. But my sister and I dreamed about the Western world after an American woman came to the jungle and told us about this thing called “McDonald’s.” We imagined that with burgers and running hot water, the people in the West must be happy. So when I was 12 and my parents announced we were leaving the jungle, I was very excited.

But far from my dream come true, what followed were two years of hell in German and the U.S. I was terrified of the traffic and the endless choices available to me. I remember going into a supermarket and watching my brother break down in tears at the overwhelming selection of chocolate. Ironically, when my family decided to return to the jungle two years later, I was ecstatic.

But not for long. I felt stuck between two identities: my Western heritage and Fayu culture. Then Ohri died from tuberculosis. I was destroyed by grief. It was then, in December 1989, that I decided to leave the jungle for good, to discover the “white” me. My parents agreed to send me to a Swiss finishing school to teach me Western ways.

Arriving at school, at age 17, was a nightmare. I was used to being free as a bird, but windows were barred and we were only allowed out two hours a day. I suffered panic attacks.

The girls taught me about makeup and how to dress and introduced me to alcohol. I stumbled through the next few years and never felt like I fit in. Growing up in the jungle continues to affect me today.

I’m now 33, with four children. I’ve been married twice, but neither relationship worked out. For years, I shut out my childhood. I had an unbearable sense of loneliness, but then I dreamed of seeing Ohri again. When I awoke the next morning, I had an inner peace I had not felt for a long time.

Finally, I feel like I’m living again, not just existing. My parents still live with the Fayu, and I visit them- after all these years, I still need my regular jungle “fix” to stay sane.

Sabine Kuegler’s Child of the Jungle (Warner Books) will be published in the U.S. in March 2007. It was previously published in Germany.

[p.88 Marie Claire July 2006]

You can buy Sabine’s book here: http:/#

/www.amazon.com/Child-Jungle-Sabine-Kuegler/dp/1844082628

Popularity: 6% [?]

Hi everyone! It’s been a long time since I wrote my last post on study abroad in Japan. I am currently back in the United States, living in Champaign, Illinois. I had an amazing time in Japan. The best moments were when I reconnected with the past and found my cross-cultural skills rise and shine. For now, I would like to focus on reconnecting with the past.

In 10 years’ time, I returned home in Japan! Isn’t that just wonderful?

I had three goals in mind when I decided to study abroad in Japan. 1) To visit childhood homes and schools 2) To obtain a work experience including internships and 3) To improve my Japanese language skills.

Thank God I accomplished all three goals but the most meaningful one was 1) Revisiting childhood home.

Before I left for Japan, I quenched for answers to my whole being, a deep desire to see in my own eyes the world I had left behind. The world of Japan–my dear childhood home– which I had left and never returned. My heart scarred with repatriating experiences and comments of friends who had made me feel isolated and incomplete…I brought with me when I flew to Japan. I wanted to hug that inner child who was crying after I left Japan. I wanted to go back to the beautiful and peaceful world of innocence and find home for the little child. The child had mourned over Japan because she loved it. When she got on those planes to Korea, New Zealand, and the United States, she never knew that she would not be seeing her home for 10 years.

When I arrived in Nagoya, Japan, confusion ran across my mind. A Korean TCKid now an adult, no longer moving due to her parents’ decision, has made her own decision to live in Japan- one of the first major decisions she has made. But then surrounded by international students at Nanzan University where she attended, she was put in a circle of friends of Americans who identified her as American – Many of whom guessed she was a native speaker. They included her in their trips and activities, and she met Korean International students (from Korea) at Nanzan who openly welcomed her because she was ethnically Korean. Local Japanese students introduced her to others as “Korean” but in her mind she was thinking “I am not just Korean. I am Korean/Japanese/American and many more.” Then she met her host family who explained several cultural rules she had already learned as a kid. She thought she returned home but she was seen as a foreigner by the Japanese local people and as a native to other countries by people from those countries.

Like Ruth E VanReken said, this was Miyon a.k.a. Michelle’s “journey of clarification”. She did not find the answers she was looking for, but upon her readjustment to the country she once knew as a child, she learned more about herself, and had life lessons.

Her first goal to revisit her childhood home was met with overwhelming emotions surrounding the giant tree rooted in the center of her school field. It was the giant tree she saw growing up in Takasaki, Gunma Province. The tree had grown larger, some of its thick branches were now supported by poles to keep the posture. Miyon cried because other than this giant tree’s need for support almost everything seemed to be the same in school. It would hurt to see the destruction of any kind that violates the memory of childhood while she fully accepts that things can’t be completely the same. As she walked around the field, Miyon tightly hugged the inner Miyon, and sat on a playground metal sheet, watching the clouds float past the school rooftops. Miyon wanted to stay there forever. This IS home.

Then she visited the old apartment. What an excitement! Miyon jumped and bounced like a crazy kid, joyful and sound. Quite opposite the experience in this apartment was this other school she visited afterward. The previous school she visited was Kitashou Gakkou which was a Japanese public school, and this one was CAJ (Christian Academy in Japan). Miyon doesn’t have much fond memories of this school despite the good memories of friendships. When Miyon visited, she resented and was angry that the school couldn’t be better. She felt taken advantage of and wished things had been made better for her mom.

But it was at CAJ that Miyon learned the power of ten years. At the time she was attending CAJ, she hardly spoke English. She left the school, doubting that she would never learn to be fluent in English. When Miyon revisited CAJ, she was met by American missionaries who were attending meetings. One American missionary asked a question to Miyon. Miyon surprised herself by responding in fluent and confident American English.

“What seems impossible can be done if you have 10 years,” Miyon thought to herself. When you believe it will be done. Doing will become our being. Reconnecting the past and present.

Popularity: 2% [?]

I am so thankful that a few weeks ago Ruth, the co-author of Third Culture Kids: The Experience of Growing Up Among Worlds, has met with some of us third culture kids at my school, UIUC (University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign). I received a permission from Ruth to share this photo and her insights.

It was very informative and memorable for us. Ruth has given us presentations on the concept of CCK and how TCK fell under the umbrella of CCK. Of the many things that Ruth explained, what warmed my heart was that by introducing the concept of TCK she was giving us the basis of language to refer to our own story and experience. Most of us has never read the third culture kid books and had not known each other on a personal level.

Ruth emphasized that TCKs can be stuck due to unresolved grief, feeling like victims so they cannot utilize their rich resources and talents.

We have shared our own background, identity and sense of belonging issues, repatriation, and a hint of future career. It was emotional for many of us and the ties we could make with each other were healing. I think many TCKs are confused about where they are headed to, what career to pursue which can maximize the resources they have. Ruth told us, “When you are stuck, just do one thing you can do.” You can find one thing you can do and later this will lead to the next one thing you can do. Ruth said there were times she did not know what she was supposed to do but later all she has done in the past came to pieces. They made sense.

It was comforting to hear the truthful words of an older, experienced lady Ruth. Maybe she is pointing to the future. A future that points to another.

Popularity: 1% [?]

??: ?3?? ??? Third Culture Kids ???? ???? ??

???: ???? ??, ?? ? ??

???: ???

Publication Date: 2008? 7? 16?

Page: 391?

Size: 220*150mm

Price: 17,000?

ISBN 978-89-92607-17-9 (03180)

??? ??? ??,
?3?? ??(TCK)? ?? ???

??? ?? ??? ??? ?? ?.
??? ????? ??? ??? ???
???? ???? ????? ??? ??? ??
?3?? ???(TCK)? ? ???
??? ?? ???? ???? ???? ?? ??? ?.

You can purchase here

Other sites you can purchase the book:

http://www.libro.co.kr/Product/BookDetail.libro?goods_id=0100007808965

http://mania.isbnshop.com/books/book.php?isbn=9788992607179

http://book.daum.net/detail/book.do?bookid=KOR9788992607179

Popularity: 1% [?]

I’ve caught myself fearing that any intimate relationships will come to an end and will not last. I had this fear that any factors could take away someone who becomes intimate with me. Accidents, death, separation, or whatever the factor may be… I feared that I could not put faith in lasting relationships.

This is what I am used to. A highly mobile lifestyle has constructed in my belief system that no friendship can last long enough. I once was happy and thankful that I had been forced to stay in the same university in the past three years despite itchy feet. I felt hurt because friends from before college seemed to not care enough about me to make friendships last. I was disappointed with many of my friends because of their lack of interest and care for me. I even told myself that I might as well cut off these friendships.

Then, two nights ago I listened to a sermon by the senior pastor of my church. I came to repentance because I learned that I was being selfish. It stood out “Are you going to stop loving the person because of their sins?” (Am I going to stop being friends because of what they’ve done wrong and said?) I know in my heart I wanted to cut off friendships because I was disappointed in these friends. But how can I show my love to somebody without loving somebody? This is what the pastor made me think.

“If you were another person would you like to be a friend of yours?” Asked the pastor.

“When we can stand in line together and have a commonality we can be friends with one another.”

When he said this statement he showed us a movie clip of Freedom Writers where classmates are divided in cliques but after playing a line game, learn that they are just like any other students who have lost friends through gang violence. And this illustration rocked me inside because I am no better than any other person.

Being a TCK does not make me special. I am just another human being. Why judge others thinking that I am better and deserve better?

I have also learned from the sermon that friendship is to encourage, to put conscious effort to strengthen, and to empower in finding strength in God. I have made a commitment that in the morning when I wake up I will think of at least one person I will encourage that day.

Popularity: 2% [?]

While listening to my home church pastor’s sermon, I was inspired to think more about how my own values are shaped due to my Korean heritage and having lived in Japan for five and a half years. Repatriation is an issue for many TCKs due to becoming hidden immigrants in their parent(s)’s country where they look alike but think different.

Before discussing which of the shame- and guilt-based societies is easier to repatriate, I would like to borrow the definiotions of shame and guilt from the Cambridge dictonary.

The dictionary defines

shame: loss of honour and respect

guilt: the fact of having done something wrong or committed a crime

From these definitions and the inspiration by the pastor, I can discuss that shame is defined by “who you are” while guilt is “what you do.” Shame-based cultures define you by the image of who you are but guilt-based cultures define you by individuality, right and worng based on the law.

The pastor said that when he learned the Viriginia Tech shooter (Cho Seung Hui) was Korean, he apologized to his caucasian friends as a Korean. He thought of the reason why he apologized. It felt right to him and it was because he believed what he did reflected on himself and others.

Many Asian, Middle Eastern, and African countries are shame-based countries. Of the many, Japan could be an extreme case. Not only their uniformity of style, clothes, manners, speech, and formality, Japan even has a saying that”Nail sticking out of a piece of wood, it will be hammered in.”

If the society is shame-oriented, then would it mean being different (a prevalent issue among TCKs) is hard to cope with than in a guilt-based society? I would like to hear more views on the the guilt-based society.

Popularity: 6% [?]

This is a poem shared by Cattt in one of her comments, so I moved it here. (Her comment can be found at : http://www.tckid.com/group/rant-ramble/#comment-9140 )

Home is where my hat is.

She has no home,
No home she calls her own.
She has only a hat,
A perfect Black Top hat.

This hat she places,
Where ever she may be,
As if to say, that today,
This will be her home.

But what of tomorrow
Nobody knows, not you nor I
Where this Top hat will sit,
This hat, so worn, but so young?

Where am I from,
They may ask.
Never can I answer,
I, the nomad.

Where is my home, you ask?
Look for a Black Top hat,
Look for a Black Top hat worn and old,
Where it sits, is my home, for now.

Black will this top hat be,
worn at the edges,
Young with old experience,
Symbolic of what I never had.

Much has this hat seen,
Much has this hat yet to see,
Many places has it been,
Many places has it yet to be.

I take you with me,
For I have no home,
For I was born a Nomad,
And you are my coat of arms.

Black are you, my top hat.
No picket fence shall you have,
For you are a nomad,
Both doomed and blessed by wanderlust.

I have no home
No one country I call my own
Just my Black Top hat,
The centerpiece of my home.

Popularity: 1% [?]

When I entered college, I knew I wanted to study abroad during college years. By the time it was a second semester in sophomore year, I felt very restless. Circumstances did not allow the possibility to study abroad until two months ago when I decided to change my major. It is required of me to complete at least 12 Credit Hours of my major studies abroad. This realization was freedom to me. It took away the feelings of restlessness instantly and I never felt it since then. Can anyone relate to this?

I will be studying abroad at Nanzan University in Nagoya, Japan in January 2009. Does anyone have tips for studying abroad? (they don’t have to be applicable to Japan necessarily. I want to know your thoughts.)

I have mixed feelings about this opportunity to live in Japan again. What would Japan be like? How would I feel once I am there? This time it is outside of my parents’ decision but my own to move to another country. I will have to use my own personal finances and the figure of cost is BIG!! I am stressed out about finding financial resources to support myself because of the high living expenses there. I would love to hear your thoughts and advices.

Popularity: 5% [?]

Continuing with the thread of “Introducing the TCK Concepts in Korean,” this thread is dedicated to events Korean TCKs/MKs can attend. There are numerous events for Korean MKs but we are in dire need for events tailored towards non-MK TCKs. Please help us reach out to those TCKs who are not MKs.

Popularity: 1% [?]

I am still in the process of finding the best way to explain the TCK issue to my parents. It seems like a few minutes of conversation won’t do so I am searching for websites that can explain the concept in Korean. There isn’t readily available resource out there (or maybe I just don’t have access to it). I want to dedicate this post specifically for this reason. Please feel free to share any thoughts, new information, etc. =)

Popularity: 3% [?]