When You Are Alone in a Foreign Country and Bad Things Happen…
When this is the case, you may feel extremely lonely, hopeless and desperate. Believe me, I know this feeling very well… You may think that this is a post about isolation and distress during the current pandemic. Not really, but it still can apply to those dealing with this crisis in foreign settings.
Let me tell you my story. I am someone who likes moving from one country to another and sticking around for several years to get a true experience of local life. This time, my curiosity brought me to a highly underrated, in my opinion, Baltic country of Estonia and its capital Tallinn. I was moving to this small country in the hope of escaping the non-stop (even during a pandemic) hustle and bustle of New York City where I spent almost two years, having some time off of work and finding internal peace.
It has been a month and so far Tallinn seems like everything I hoped for: not a single problem in the “administrative department”, a stunning medieval city, beautiful nature, snowy weather that I missed so much, and a calm atmosphere. As advertised, Estonia turned out to be a truly digital nation — nearly everything can be done online in two clicks.
All went perfectly well until one bad thing happened… My cat fell out of the window of my new apartment and ran away.
I have (and I refuse to say it in the past) a beautiful ginger cat named Orwell. To some people, domestic animals are just accessories, animated objects that can be easily replaced if they get old, sick or lost. I am NOT one of those people! To me, a pet is a friend and a rightful family member. Orwell is my baby. He has quite a willful character but, in some sense, he reminds me of myself, moody and temperamental. And yes, Orwell travels with me. He was born in France. My ex-boyfriend and I adopted this adorable cat when he was two. Since then, Orwell has joined me in several relocations within his homeland and after that in my round trip to the States. I used to joke that he has earned the status of Grand Voyageur (a French railroad fidelity program for frequent travelers).
The window accident happened just after I brought Orwell to Estonia. I used to be very cautious all the time and was surveilling his every move when he was near open windows or on the balcony in my older apartments. For example, my New York apartment was located on 18th floor and this immediately made me put some duct tape on my main window to restrict its opening capacity so that Orwell could not squeeze his head to the outside. However, in this new apartment in Tallinn, I have not developed those important habits yet. One night I opened a window for less than a minute, and when I realized this disastrous mistake, it was already too late. I practically saw Orwell gliding on the exterior windowsill and going down. I immediately rushed downstairs only to find him quickly getting away in the direction of a nearby forest.
So, I was alone in a new country, losing sight of my beloved pet in the darkness. I searched the forest for several hours, no result. I went back home exhausted and scared. The very next morning I continued the search, asking all the people on my way about a red cat and sharing my phone number in case they would see him. Later in the day, I printed posters, put them up in my neighborhood, made posts on Facebook, called the city shelter and entered his chip’s information in the national database.
Due to the pandemic, and being occupied with tasks related to relocation and settlement, I hadn’t made any friends in Tallinn up to that moment. I had few, mostly internet-based, acquaintances in Estonia and nobody to help me on the spot. That is how I found myself alone in a horrible situation in a foreign country.
Ten days has passed since. Orwell is still missing. I keep hoping, looking for him outside and sharing posts online. Several people have contacted me and given me tips about red cats they have seen in different areas. Unfortunately, it has not led to the desired result.
Why am I writing all this? To cope with my pain, maybe… But also to offer some reassurance and encouragement to folks in similar situations. Because of the pandemic, many people in the world entered a long and solitary phase of self-isolation. Take a look at France’s students, many of whom feel totally lonely, lost and forgotten by the state. Imagine being an international student in these tough times with no support system in a new country. How would you feel? What would you do?
What I am actually trying to say is that nobody is lonely. You may feel so, but it doesn’t have to be like that! Don’t forget that there are so many nice people around you. A different culture or language barrier doesn’t mean people won’t be willing to help or able to understand your struggle.
Take my situation as an example. Yes, I haven’t yet found Orwell. But I have received so many calls and messages of support from strangers. Some local residents have offered me their help in searching. They were kind enough to dedicate a good chunk of their time and effort. One time, I received a call in Estonian with no possibility to communicate in another language. I spontaneously knocked on the doors of my neighbors and asked to translate the conversation; the neighbors who I haven’t met before. Estonians may seem grumpy and cold on the outside but they have proved to be softhearted and compassionate on the inside.
Kind people are everywhere! Just don’t hesitate to reach out and ask for help, especially when you are alone in a foreign country and get into trouble. Stay strong!
