Another Life

One thing that I love and hate about living outside the country of my birth, youth, and upbringing is that I'm constantly aware of it.

I love this because it is illuminating. It gives me an awareness of my ideas, assumptions, my expectations and allows me space to examine them in a context in which they do not fit.

I hate it because so often, my ideas, assumptions, and expectation don't fit. I'm a misfit.

Take this:

It's a goldmine, right? Brilliant! Hardwood doors, looks like craftsman era, not in the best shape but definitely a DIY dream come true! I even have a car that's good for hauling stuff like this, and I could so totally drive right over and load it up and take it back to my place and do something amazing with it!

What would I do with these fabulous doors?

Do you really have to ask? Why, just about anything, actually.   The possibilities are endless.

But that's me thinking like an American.  Even as it was happening I knew it. And so I left that garbage right where it was. Because that was the Lebanese thing to do.


  1. Food for thought for expatriates everywhere... How terrible to let perfectly good abandoned doors go to the dump. I would have wanted to take them home too. For years I had a door which I picked up in a New Jersey marsh, which had layers of peeling paint which particularly appealed to me. I had to give it to a friend when I moved to France. Nice going away gift, eh ?

    Maybe you could go back at three in the morning and load them up ???

  2. How frustrating! I have two doors in my garage right now, picked up from an alleyway. Thanks for that link, by the way! :-)

  3. Haha, good observations (in the post AND on the street).
    Sometimes I can't overcome my American instinct and I go to salvage things from the village street before the garbos pick them up. But I go under cover of night. ;)