Sitting in a café with my friends, the conversation turned to Big Brother.
I immediately felt a sense of dread. Not because I don’t like the hit-reality TV show, it’s that I had absolutely no idea about anything to do with it.
It was 2013 and I’d just moved back to the UK after more than two decades abroad. Any reference to British popular culture completely goes over my head.
This is part of the reason I feel like a stranger in the UK.
I was actually born in Jamaica to a Guyanese mother and English father, but grew up in the Cornish city of Truro from the age of three, alongside my younger brother.
My summer evenings were spent at the beach, where we played cricket, rugby, and surfed. I grew up on cream teas, pasties, Sunday roasts, and even more tea.
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It felt like the perfect childhood, but the lack of big shops and nightlife frustrated me during my teens, so I moved to Bristol in the late 80s for university. I had a fantastic time, but after I graduated at the age of 21, I craved more.
The tipping point was when I was on a night out someone ridiculed my mispronunciation of a French wine label and everyone laughed. I was so embarrassed but something clicked – I had an urge to learn French so I would never feel stupid again.
That’s when my international adventure began.
Shortly after, I moved to Bordeaux and became an au pair. My French was non-existent before this, so felt isolated and miserable, but I slowly opened up, made friends, and embraced new opportunities.
After a year, I moved to Spain and worked for a travel company looking after holiday makers. I had officially caught the travelling bug.
What followed next was over two decades of moving from country to country – Dominican Republic, Grand Cayman, Mexico, and the Bahamas. In every single one, I was always immersed in the culture of the place I was in.
But being pre-internet made it harder to keep up with global goings on – especially what was happening in the UK.
I kept in touch with my parents and brother through expensive phone calls every month. But these short chats were for updates on what they were doing in their lives and rarely included anything newsworthy happening in the UK.
Then, I met my husband, Hugo, from Argentina, while I was working as a travel rep in the Dominican Republic in 1996.
He worked in the same hotel as me, as the waterski instructor – and there was an instant attraction. Eventually, a year and a half after meeting, we got married in Cancun.
It was after we welcomed our daughter, Isabella, in 2010 that our priorities slowly started to change.
By the time she was three, we realised that neither of our families were experiencing her growing up. On top of that, we felt isolated – we were 90 minutes from the nearest doctor, supermarket, or cinema.
We wanted stability, free healthcare, and education for her. My husband’s home country of Argentina couldn’t offer this, so we decided to move to the UK.
After 21 years abroad, I’d finally be moving home – I’d only been back to visit a handful of times.
I arrived in the UK in May 2013 and I immediately noticed it wasn’t how I remembered it. Sure, the London cold and rush hour was familiar, but everyone was so busy staring at their phones. They didn’t have those two decades ago!
Besides references to pop culture, like Big Brother, conversations surrounding politics and big events from the previous 20 years felt like everyone was speaking a foreign language.
I remember watching a celebrity version of Race Across the World and not knowing who any of the famous people were.
The culture in general took a while to acclimatise to as well. If I was too direct, I had to remember to add a Britishism like ‘if that’s OK?’ or ‘only if it’s not too much trouble’ at the end of the sentence.
There are lots of positives of being back, like having tap water you can drink, centralised digital systems for government services. And of course, the education and healthcare that we so longed for. Cornwall – where we live – in particular feels more multicultural too, which is great.
But now, 12 years after moving back to the UK, I still sometimes feel like I’m catching up on the years I missed. Even speaking English doesn’t come as naturally to me, as I’m used to Spanish or French.
Hugo and I are planning on living abroad again within the next 10 years. The idyllic scenario would be nine months abroad, somewhere warm and in the alps to enjoy the winter snow sports, and the three months of summer in Cornwall.
Whenever the situation feels right, I encourage people to travel, be bold, and take chances.
If we ever don’t like a particular place or things don’t go as planned, we can always come home. But if we don’t explore the world, we will never know what opportunities are waiting for us to discover.
Even if it means you don’t know who won Big Brother in the early 2000s.
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