There’s been a lot written about one of the perceived perils of expatriate living: when a section of your friends have, like you, moved here from somewhere else, they may—and often do—eventually move elsewhere.
I refuse, however, to see this as a negative.
Because if you are willing to look at the other side of the coin, it means that you are constantly interacting with the most interesting people, whom you could never meet any other way. Some stay and design fabulous clothing or open bars where you enjoy some of your most memorable moments. Some move on to new opportunities—but even then, they’re always a part of you, and even missing them is something that I, at least, wouldn’t trade for anything.
Then there are the people you meet one-off, say, in a bar: a mountain climber, a helicopter pilot, a librarian, someone who works for their country and doesn’t quite say what they mean.
Does it lead to anything? Sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesn’t. You might never see or communicate with the person again—and yet never quite forget them. Or someone might forever become part of the tapestry of your life. Who knows?
V nice