Normal life is by definition routine, stable, seldom out of the ordinary and therefore leads us to think that things have been this way always and will continue that way indefinitely, too. Certainly, this moment of mass production methods, distribution channels, and use of goods and services does contribute to a feeling that everything is regulated, under control, and will meet one’s expectations for rights and responsibilities; that the Rule of Law will prevail, that the good guys will win, that bad things need not be expected, but if they arise then everything will be put right, again.
The reality, though, is that most of human history has been filled with change imposed from outside or invented from inside. There are natural disasters and human-caused ones, too. And in the case of being displaced to a new language and society voluntarily or involuntarily (as illustrated in the museum exhibition, above), the baseline for what is considered normal or desirable (and what lies outside those dominant values and visions) may well be at odds with the home country norms. During that period between encountering the strange new society and later gaining functional ability in the language, economics, and system of education and health care, there is much uncertainty that fills one’s days and the decisions small and large. That heightened sense of uncertainty, in which things desired and ones dreaded may unexpectedly arise of their own, or inadvertently from one’s words or deeds (or failure to respond; act; speak), is perhaps the truest encounter with the raw beauty and terror of modern life. The immigrant or refugee goes from befuddlement to survival level, but in the space of that transition there comes a palpable feeling that things could change for better or else for worse and so the best stance to take is to pay extra close attention and to be on guard. Sustained low-level anxiousness and a defensive posture can be tiring, though. So, little by little, one relaxes this sharp focus.
There are many other instances where one may feel a sharp separation from order to disorder, from rules or absence of rules, from certainty to lack of certainty. For example, the institutional rhythms and boundaries that structure the days and years in classrooms, in hospitals, or in uniformed military service can be both source of comfort while also imposing a sense of constraint. When one leaves those roles behind and the rules no longer apply, there is a moment of release and relaxation: menus are not fixed, times to wake up and go to bed are not declared, permitted times to speak and how and to whom no longer are controlled. Much like a person facing a blank page, an uncharted island, or a first-ever performance on stage the feeling of boundaries and guidance being absent can stir anxiety. Just as the phase of immigrants adapting to a new cultural universe, in these other examples, too, there is a time when uncertainties and possibilities seem unlimited. But soon enough that palpable awareness that things could go wrong fades. It is more likely for things to go right, after all. And yet that fleeting encounter with chance, with potential change, with getting off track may be the truest grasp of tenuous lived experience: all the players trust that things with go as they are supposed to; that any deviation or outlier is rare and of small concern; not part of the master narrative for the culture and language of the place.
Money is supposed to hold its face value; hospitals are supposed to be health-giving; authority figures are supposed lead without abuse or favor; lies and law-breaking are supposed to be found out and corrected; drivers are supposed to respect posted speed limits and traffic signals; a person in distress is supposed to be noticed and assisted; social injustice is supposed to be remedied; habitats are supposed to be conserved; basic resources like air and water and food are supposed to be safe and rightfully be available to everybody equally. As long as most people imagine and believe and want such things to be true, then words and actions will more or less be in tune.
Aberrations, as in a biological body, may turn out to be benign or malignant, like a cancer. A dramatic illustration is Donald Trump’s abuse of tax law in businesses and then his pretend presidency: not elected by popular vote, gaming the electoral college, flouting written rules and unwritten customs of the Chief Executive in order to turn the organs of governance against itself, against the world, against the environment. In the body analogy, this is cancer that lives only for itself by consuming the host and requires intervention.
Children learn the rules of daily living at home, then school, and once out in the world of work as adults they complete the enculturation process as fully fledged members of that language and society. Refugees or immigrants undocumented or lawfully settling in the country as children or adults begin with a fully functioning culture and language from the home country. Some parts may translate more or less to the new society, but much more has to be learned from scratch. A few of the immigrants might consider the absence of the old ways to make possible unconstrained, unguided, uncontained ways of living — at least for a moment or two. Very soon the compelling desire becomes just to fit in and be “normal,” no different from neighbors who were born and raised in the place. That requires recognizing the boundaries, ways of problem solving, range of options when facing a decision, and so on. In other words, the incoming resident is exchanging one set of master narratives for a “life well lived” from the home country for another set of master narratives being witnessed, asserted, aspired to, and reinforced directly and implicitly in messages of popular culture and humor, legislation, and support services.
A quick transition from outsider (home country language and customs) to insider (local society and economy) minimizes the period between arrival and attaining self-sufficient survival skills. So it is only during those anxious months and years when the person can catch glimpses of the precarity of social contracts and customary practices that keep day to day interactions going in a predictable, orderly way; free from randomness, meaninglessness, lack of purpose or intentionality, and accidents large or small. In place of entropy, most everybody is holding the social fabric together to sustain “neg-entropy” (triumph of order over disorder, structure over disarray).
In summary, the case of moving from one social world into an unfamiliar one is inherently stressful, even when it is to flee disaster or personal extinction. Experiences adapting to a new country and its language and customs offer a temporary state of being when one is not yet fluent and so cannot imagine the same big picture of options that native-born neighbors see. During this time the immigrant has a much stronger awareness of uncertainties and precariousness of social patterns, relationships, opportunities and threats. It is natural in the home country as well as in the immigration country to desire the tranquility of normal, ordinary living without sticking out or making mistakes. And yet those months or years of uncertainties offers something like an “unbearable lightness” unanchored from the weight of routine and taken-for-granted lived experience of life-long residents. Anxious and undesired though it may be, perhaps that liminal phase in transition from foreigner to local resident offers the clearest grasp of reality, one in which pretended certainty and control that most people unthinkingly expect can be viewed with some healthy doubt in order to hold a true picture of modern life.
