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Through my job and my not-as-active-as-before social life, I have met people from many backgrounds here in Korea: U.S. soldiers; English teachers from Europe, North America, and Down Under; models milking their entertainment visas for as much as they can; business people from diverse industries; different types of tourists, such as weekend travelers, backpackers, and young people wandering aimlessly through Asia; airline employees on a one or two night stay; and many more. Since I'm American, most of the people I come into contact with are Westerners, since we all tend to hang out in similar places. Most of the people I meet I never see again. They are transient. But some of them are here for a while and become a part of my social circle, particularly soldiers and teachers since they tend to be here for at least one year (that's a Tour of Duty in Korea for most soldiers, and most teaching contracts are for one year). When people find out I've been here for 15 years I often get grilled with questions, usually personal. I don't mind answering them. I like talking to people about my experiences in Korea, how things have changed culturally, socially, and physically, and giving advice on where to buy Fruity Pebbles (which the soldiers can do easily enough), which computer shops to trust, or who to talk to for a new teaching gig. Some of them remain here longer than a year. Of those, most will go home after two or three. If they stay longer, they are ultimately going to be taken by The Great Dilemma. It happens to everyone who stays here, usually after their third or fourth year. The thing is that the majority of expats never intended to be expats. They didn't wake up one day and say, "I think I'll pack up and live in a foreign country for a couple of decades." Oh, I'm sure that some people do. But for the large majority, of which I count myself a member, it was a gradual process. Your first year was great fun, or financially successful, so you decide to stay for one more. And then one more. And then another. And, hey, why not one more? But then The Great Dilemma hits. And it hits hard. The Great Dilemma is what I have named the process of making the do-or-die decision that every expat I know has ultimately been confronted with. After three or four years, there comes a revelation that you have been living in a foreign country for three or four years. It comes out of the blue and hits you like a brick. Most people don't visit home much in the first few years, maybe once, possibly twice, but many not at all. So when the Dilemma comes, they start to think about what they are missing back home. They begin to evaluate their situation and compare it to the possibilities awaiting them if they pack up and move back to the homestead. I've seen it enough times that I can usually tell when someone is in the throes of The Great Dilemma -- I can recognize it in their eyes. They become somewhat withdrawn, trying to enjoy their jobs and their mugs of beer at the pub, all the while turning over the question in their heads, "Should I stay or should I go?" The Great Dilemma brings with it a sense of finality, of inevitability. I remember when it took me. I knew that if I didn't leave then, I most likely wouldn't for a very long time. I also was certain that if I did move back to Atlanta, I would never live in Korea again. It's a paralyzing feeling. It seems, for someone that has never lived overseas, that it would be a no-brainer -- just go home. But it really isn't so easy. After four years of living in one place I had made a new life. I had a network of friends and associates. I was living a fantastic lifestyle and making good money (though I had yet to learn the art of financial responsibility, which is another story). Leaving home as a young person eager to see the world is an easy thing to do. But once you've put down roots somewhere else, roots that are your own and not those of your parents, it's very hard to just pick up and leave. And the longer you stay, the more difficult it becomes. Ultimately, I got through The Great Dilemma one day at a time. After several agonizing weeks, it passed and I was locked in to my expat status. I had been very close several times to purchasing a plane ticket, but couldn't bring myself to do it. You might say it was indecision that caused me to stay. But that's not really it. Deep down, I just felt I'd not be happy if I left. I belonged here. It just took me a while to realize that. Some might say it's a selfish decision, but I say it's a matter of perspective. People can decide to make their own lives in the big wide world  (i.e. being selfish) or stay close to home where the opportunities will be more limited (i.e. holding themselves back). Both decisions come with sacrifices, so to say one is inherently better than the other is wrongheaded. So when someone I know is afflicted by The Great Dilemma, they often ask me a question, "Mike, do you regret staying here for so long?" What a loaded question that is. Every person on earth has to deal with regrets. Some people deal with them by saying they don't have any. That's fine, but it's just a cover-up. The fact is, we all do things we wish we hadn't. We lie to those who trust us, or do something hurtful to someone we care about, or get drunk and do the coyote ugly thing. These are things that everyone experiences. But expats are a group of people that have to deal with so much more. Sure, there are others who deal with more issues than the average Joe, I'm just saying that an expat is not an average Joe. If you are living close enough to home that you can drive back for a weekend, or take a (relatively) cheap plane ride, things aren't so bad. But when you live halfway around the world, you aren't going to be popping in to Grandma's house very often. Contact with friends back home will eventually fade away, as will contact with most family members. Sure, you'll make monthly or weekly phone calls to Mom and Dad, and a little less often to Brother and Sister. Maybe you'll be in regular email contact. But you will be seeing them rarely, once a year if you're lucky. My sister and I were quite close once. I still feel that we are. But in the years I've been here, I've missed several milestones in her life. I wasn't there for her wedding. I didn't get to visit her in the hospital when my nephew and niece were born. I made it home for my grandfather's funeral, but when my grandmother died a month later I couldn't get away. My closest friends are all married with children now. My young cousins are grown, living their own lives. I remember chasing them around their front yard, playing hide-and-seek, not long before I left for the Army. My father is retired now and I can't go over to his house for a barbecue on the weekends. I can't be there to support friends and family in times of sickness or tragedy. There's a long list of things that make me say, "I wish..." If you can't handle missing out on what's happening back home, you won't make it as an expat. If you sit around moping because you missed someone's wedding, or kicking yourself because you didn't get to see someone just once more before they died, you'll never be an expat. Most people like that will never reach The Great Dilemma. They'll usually be homesick after the first year, if not sooner. For most people that stay, it's easy to put the homestead in the back of their minds for a time. It's always there, hovering just out of sight. Sometimes it comes out in moments of reflection, particularly during the holidays. I never miss my family more than during Thanksgiving and Christmas. But missing home isn't the only thing expats have to deal with. Every friendship you make as an expat is one to cherish. Above, I used the word transient to describe most people I meet here. That's what your friendships as an expat will be -- transient. We all meet people that come and go, through changing jobs or changing neighborhoods. But for expats, it's all amplified just because they are in a situation where they meet so many more people than they otherwise would. I've made some really close friends here over the years and they all have moved on. I still have friends, but they are the arms-reach type: drinking buddies, pool partners, colleagues, and so on. If you can't handle losing close friends, if transient relationships cause you to regret ever leaving home or having met a person in the first place, you aren't going to cut it as an expat. So my answer to the question about regrets is that, yeah, I have a lot of them. But that doesn't mean I made the wrong decision. I have a wonderful wife and her family is now mine. We have made a happy home for ourselves. We both have great jobs. There's no way I could make the money I make and have as much free time as I have if I were to go back home. My life is so much richer for having known all of the people I have known. I have learned so much from so many. No one can see into alternative realities, but I don't think I ever would have been as successful or as happy had I gone home as a result of The Great Dilemma. The expat bug was in me and would have ultimately gotten the best of me. My advice to anyone living overseas and facing The Great Dilemma, is to look deep inside yourself. You need to know if you can live with your decision, whichever it may be. Either way, you are going to have regrets, but you will most certainly have more by deciding to stay where you are rather than going home. If you aren't emotionally fit, you'll eventually turn into a basket case. You have to know if you are the type of person that thrives on being independent, or if you are more comfortable being close to your family. If the former, you'll have a good chance of making it, but if the latter, your expat experience will be less than ideal. The Great Dilemma is something every expat has to work through alone. There's no general right or wrong answer, only what's right for you. And only you can decide that. But it's not the only dilemma you'll face as an expat. I've seen two other phases that many expats in Korea go through. Since I've never been an expat in another country, I don't know if this is unique to Korea or if it is common in other expat communities, but it's something to consider when making a decision. For now though, I think I've typed enough. I'll blog about the other phases another day.