How To Live In Western Society?
"There's no place like my home since I was born
When I was so young
The flavor is so strong
I've missed it so long, yeah"
Territory – The Blaze
My friend was (understandably) confused when I told her I don’t like getting blackout drunk on the weekends. This was my first week of being an international student in Germany, and I quickly learning that most people didn’t share my idea of a “weekend.”
Squeeze It
Apparently, weekends have to be “earned.” You need to squeeze the most productivity you can out of your waking hours during the weekdays, and then squeeze the most fun out of the weekend.
Apparently, Fridays are reserved for Aperol spritzes and socializing with friends, kicked off by heading to a bar, and then dancing in a room —which you forget about by Sunday.
Apparently, Sundays are for recovering, so you can squeeze the most productivity on Monday. Weekdays, again, are supposed to be filled with something “useful” — whether it’s working, networking, or pursuing some personal development goal.
And once you’ve dragged yourself to Friday, the hamster wheel spins, spins, spins…
This is not a diss of long working hours or getting blacked out during the weekends— believe it or not. Rather, it is an expression of confusion about how different one’s life is when one moves to a different culture. In Pakistan, I never once went to a bar because (I hope you’re sitting down for the upcoming surprise) there are none.
Yes, Fridays were about relaxing — possibly having a large family dinner or having some friends over. I was also working a corporate job so the lingering productivity squeeze was somehow there too.
Ausländer (Outsider)
But there was something different. There wasn’t this lingering feeling of belonging — or trying to. Or doing something that didn’t really come naturally to me.
The past two years have been different.
When you move countries, there’s an expectation to belong. Especially in countries like Germany — where there are only two ways to do something —the German way and the wrong way.
But divorcing your identity completely— which has been shaped for over two decades — isn’t easy. And importantly, is it fair to expect?
I never checked the weather before going out in Pakistan. I like the rain in Pakistan. Because it symbolizes something completely different in that part of the world. I don’t know how to distinguish the best cocktails or how aged a wine should be. And principally, that should be okay.
But no matter how much you run from it, there’s always this nagging voice that tells you:
“You’re doing something wrong. You should follow the locals.”
And it’s tiring. Always looking over your shoulder — afraid you might be doing something wrong, constantly pushed to conform.
Adapting shouldn’t mean losing yourself. I may never fully prefer a currywurst over a nice Biryani. Nor might I fully embrace blacking out or everything the “locals” are doing.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s what belonging really looks like — being comfortable with not always fitting in.