The Emigre

By Chris Bullivant
October 2021

When I think of an emigre, I think of a European walking from his apartment to a cafe, with a newspaper rolled up under the sleeve of his anorak in Panama City or the heat of Havana, Cuba. In exile politically from his home, he’ll order an espresso, look over the rim of his thick glasses at the wildlife around him.

Neither at home in his country of birth, nor in his adopted home, he feels more at home between places.

A friend said something interesting to me the other day. Actually, it was last year. She had lived in Oxford and in the United States. She remarked that it was easier to talk to people who had lived abroad than to people who hadn’t. This wasn’t a snobbishness, just a fact. It was as though there was an understanding, a dimension, that could exist between once-emigres that didn’t between those who had remained at home.

It was a striking insight to me, perhaps one understood by missionaries who talk about creating a ‘third culture’. I don’t know about any of that, but this thing - the intuition and room to breathe that comes from talking with citizens who have lived both here and there - is something I do understand.

This platform may be fleeting, or it may be around for longer. You can never tell with an emigre. But while it’s here, we hope you like it.