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In this blog I will attempt to convey the joys and the trials and tribulations of being a global nomad, by writing short stories or more like snippets in time from my past, experiences I’ve had during my travels, stories about my international family and their colorful and interesting history.
Latest entries
The Comfort of A Tidy Home
There is a particular kind of comfort in a tidy home. Not the kind that impresses guests or photographs well, but the quiet, almost invisible kind — the one that settles somewhere in your chest. I didn’t always understand why it mattered so much to me. I grew up in...
On Legitimacy (And Learning to Drive Again at 54)
Right now, I’m going through a quiet kind of existential crisis. Not the dramatic, life-falling-apart kind. The slower, more insidious kind. The kind that comes disguised as… an Italian driving theory exam. I am 54 years old. I have been driving for 37 years. I’ve...
The slow unlearning of people-pleasing
I didn’t become a people-pleaser because I was weak. I became one because I was paying attention. When you grow up across borders, you learn early how to read a room. You notice shifts in tone, posture, silence. You learn which version of yourself feels most welcome...
Sickness and Blackouts
(Lubumbashi, DRC – 1976) I kept on dozing on and off. When I woke up, we were being thrashed around in the back of a large jeep. Daddy was steadying me, Simon by Mummy. A few minutes later we arrived at a hotel. We walked into the lobby. There were two men sitting in...
Gum balls and Plane rides
(Democratic Republic of Congo formerly known as Zaire - 1976) We had been playing with some bright coloured bubble gum balls that Mummy had brought home that morning. She had told us specifically not to touch them. But they looked so bright and tempting in their long...
The March 11th Earthquake in Japan
In memory of the many lives lost on the March 11th 2011 tsunami in Japan.We were living in Tokyo at the time, 200kms south of the quake’s epicenter.Here is my family’s story from that memorable day: (this post has been revised and edited from a previous post, dated...
The Shaping of a Global Identity
Most people identify with one place as home; the place they were born, where they grew up and occasionally stayed on into adult life. “Where are you from?” is the standard question that is asked every time we meet someone new in order to place that person into their...
A close call – Zambia: Part 3
Road trips were an occurring theme during my childhood. Despite the trials and tribulations that came with living in hardship countries, my parents always managed to fit in one or two memorable ones. This particular road trip was when we were living in Lusaka, Zambia....
Security, dagga and camo – Zambia: Part 2
Wellie was put to sleep a few days later. It was one of the hardest things we have ever had to do. In a quick phone call, due to Wellie’s formidable stature and surprisingly quick deterioration in temperament, Dad agreed with the vet that we would donate...
Zambia – Part 1 – Wellington
Each time we moved I would get butterflies in my stomach, anticipating the excitement and adventure of discovering a new place we would call home. I loved moves, Simon not so much. We called Lusaka, Zambia home between 1986-1989. I was 15, my brother 12. To soften the...
About me
Hi! I'm sam
And I am a global nomad
My story is one of movement. I have been a traveler all my life. A third culture kid. A fifth-generation world citizen. An expat lifer. A writer. I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend, and a home maker.
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