Flippin and Floppin

Washington State. Grew up here. When I was 41 years old I put my resume on Monster.com because GW Bush won his second term in office. I wanted to get a job in Canada. Canada’s basic values are the same as mine. I was contacted by Plymouth County Council in England. I didn’t know it at the time, but the UK was experiencing a shortage of social workers and recruiting abroad. I was flown to LA for a job interview. Offered the job and initially accepted until I received the contract. What I was told in the interview about relocation support, was not the same as in the written contract. I declined the job.

My interest was now peaked about the possibility of living in the UK so applied with some other Local Authorities. I was flown to Chicago for an interview with Swindon Borough Council. This time making sure, when they offered me the job, what the financial and relocation package would be for me moving there. I accepted the job. A two-year contract on a Work Visa. There were seven other social workers from different States who were coming over the same time. Including Arizona, Florida, Minnesota, Illinois and South Dakota. We were in touch through emails prior to the journey. Upon our arrival to Swindon, we had already formed a close bond.

England is ever so different from the USA. The language is the same, but that is about it. It was weird living where there as a Queen and other royalty. A Prime Minister rather than President. Driving on “the other” side of the road. Strange road signs. Different food. A lifestyle that included going out for a pint during lunch breaks. Words. We were provided with a list of “translations” but this barely scratched the surface.

• Lorry = Truck.

• Nappy = Diaper.

• Bonnet = Hood and Boot = Trunk (cars)

• Knackered = Exhausted.

• Jumper = Sweater.

• Rubber = Eraser

• Loo/Toilet = Bathroom/Restroom. (My sister couldn’t stand it when I was with her at a restaurant and asked the waiter where the “toilet” was).

And on and on and on. Each time going home and coming back to England I had to remember to adjust my use of different words. I learned the hard way that some words meant very different thing in England. For Example, coming to work one morning feeling a bit tired and announced to my team that “I don’t have much spunk in me today”. Startled stares. I meant that I was not feeling particularly energetic. What they heard was that I don’t have much semen in me.

Spelling made me giggle. All the extra letter “U” in words. Mould. Neighbour. Colour. I joke about how much money could be saved on printing costs getting rid of all the “U”s. And of course, “Z”. I still must check myself when writing, for example it is not “stigmatized”, it is “stigmatised”. Pronounced Zed not Zee.

There was also a huge learning curve regarding laws and practices. I found it humorous when attending court hearings, supporting the individuals on my caseload, that barristers and solicitors (attorneys) wore wigs. Jokingly, I would say they had hamsters on their head. I learned the hard way that when leaving the courtroom I was supposed to curtsy.

Staying on after the two-year contact, renewing my Work Visa and eventually after six years I applied for residency – called Indefinite Leave to Remain.

Going back home for visits were always bittersweet. Good fun getting together with friends and family. Saying goodbye not-so-fun. But visits home was also an eye opener, The areas around Seattle where my friends and family were scattered was vast. I was the same person in many ways but had also changed. My worldview had developed, as when in England I did loads of traveling abroad. It struck me how some of my friends didn’t have a Passport! I didn’t think I picked up a British accent, but was told that after a few glasses of wine, I started having an “English lilt” when I spoke.

Each time going home was like a new adventure. Places I had been to many times previously seemed new. Each time going to the Space Needle was like the first time.

After going back and forth several times, I made the decision to take a “career break” and go back for a year. I wanted to figure out where I wanted to be moving forward with my life: England or Seattle. I moved back, got a small apartment, a car and a job. Unlike living here before, when always having a cat and/or dog, I did not have a pet. I befriended a squirrel who would come daily to visit me on the porch. Feeding him peanuts, he started to sit on my lap when doing crossword puzzles. I named him Haunches for an obvious reason. Sad saying goodbye to this little guy.

After a year, moving back to England was a hard decision to make. Moving to England a second time. Heartwarming and it felt familiar but also new – like the first time I stepped foot on English soil.

Back and forth, and each time felt in many ways felt like the first time. Washington State was different each time, but the same as well. Friends changed. Each time coming back to England it felt so much like when I originally arrived. Making adjustments in my thinking, lifestyle and behaviors (behaviours). day to day living, dreams and aspirations.

I continue to contemplate and do soul searching on where I want to live the rest of my life. Pros and cons. Living in England for twenty years, almost a third of my life. I can’t seem to lose my American accent and am continually asked “Are you American or Canadian?”. Depending on the political climate, I would often just nod rather than answer the question.

“Should I Stay or Should I Go?”

The Clash. English punk rock band

Should I stay or should I go now?

Should I stay or should I go now?

If I go there will be trouble

And if I stay it will be double

So you gotta let me know

Should I stay or should I go?

This indecision's bugging me . . . . etc. etc.

Cheers.