I’ve lived on three continents, in countries with 14 national languages collectively, of which I was fluent in 2 and passable in one. An adventure, people call it.

For me, amid the culture shock, those times it felt impossible to adapt, and those wondrous instances of ‘I’m really here, this is really happening to me’, it’s been one hell of a ride. And obviously, this sort of thing has a lasting impact, not only on how I write but how I live my life.

Country of Origin

I grew up sheltered. Yes, South Africa is a country of diversity. With 11 official languages, various religions and cultures, and the most interesting mix of people, it’s a mosaic of otherness that fits together to form a beautiful picture. And yes, it has its issues, but where in the world doesn’t?

Still, as diverse and vibrant as South Africa is, I spent most of my life in and around Johannesburg and vacationed occasionally in Durban, where my dad’s family live. I visited the Cape provinces for the first time when I was deep in my twenties—once—and have never seen most touristy places.

I didn’t know my own country. My little world was Johannesburg, with its colour and sound, its vibe, the crime, the street vendors and car guards, the wide open spaces and the compact inner city (with a thousand and one one-way streets and too little parking).

Our reason for immigration was simple—job security. So, when a company in Germany reached out to my husband offering just that, we grabbed the opportunity with both hands. Had we ever been to Germany? Nope, but immigration took time, right?

Well, no. Nobody could have known my husband would be on a plane just six weeks later, without enough German in his vocabulary to string together a sentence. My then 20-month-old daughter and I followed two weeks after that.

The Rest of the World

In South Africa, people are open. You can strike up the most interesting conversation with the grocery packer and complain about service with the person behind you in the queue in the bank. You know all the employees at your local Checkers and share a laugh with the person stuck in the car next to yours in traffic.

Germany is not like that. People don’t randomly chat. Please and thank you are rare, and nobody makes eye contact. We landed amid a refugee crisis. The optimist in me wants to believe that worsened the circumstances under which we tried to build a life there and that it wasn’t simply because we were different.

For the first month, we couldn’t find a place to live because people literally would not rent out their apartments to non-Germans. We struggled to find anyone willing to teach us the ropes or sometimes even help in small ways, like giving directions. We couldn’t place our kid in kindergarten. Later, we learned we’d been labeled as economic refugees (despite our shiny work visas) and our refugee status made us pariahs.

If we hadn’t found the Dutch lady and her German husband who became our stand-in parents, I don’t know how we’d have survived. Aunt Henny taught me how to speak German, taught us how to recycle as the Germans do, and where to buy the best clothes. As an immigrant herself, she understood how intimidating adapting could be.

I’ve tried to explain how our time in Germany impacted us, but I think the best way to do that is by referencing my German mother. A few weeks after meeting her, Aunt Henny told me I’d never pass as German because I smiled too much. Just before we left, she said she wished I’d find my smile again.

Canada happened unexpectedly, but we figured it would be easier to adapt to a place that was culturally closer to South Africa. And where we were fluent in at least one of the official languages.

The overall experience has been much different. As we’d hoped, Canadians are similar to South Africans. We’re all constantly sorry, for one thing. The hey we used to say in Jozi translates so well to the Canadian eh. People are chattier here. And yes, we’re still different, but we’re accepted as Canadians wherever we go, and locals and immigrants alike always treat us kindly.

If you’d like to read more about my immigration journey, read more here.

How My Writing Has Changed

The Spoken Word

Regional dialects or accents can become a sort of code that only locals can crack. Did you know that almost every German province speaks a unique dialect, some so different that people from other provinces don’t always understand each other? It’s all German, yet it isn’t.

In South Africa, almost everyone speaks English, but people from Johannesburg speak a completely differently English to people in Durban or Cape Town, with different slang, intonation, and accent. Even regional sense of humour is different.

In Toronto, locals use a slang that consists of words from all over the world. It’s one of the most culturally diverse places I’ve ever lived, and I come from South Africa. But walking down a street in Toronto, you’re likely to cross paths with people from India, Korea, the Philippines, Europe, Africa, or China (and more).

For this reason, the accent in Toronto is much different than the accent in Calgary. Toronto’s English is evolving into something new, whereas the way people speak in Calgary is as old as the mountains under whose shadow they live.

Language is a living thing flavoured by its users.

Therefore, dialogue between characters must also showcase the sayings, slang, and cusses that are acceptable in their regions of origin. Noble ladies might not use the same cusses as slummers, for example. But it’s also important to keep in mind that friend groups, colleagues, or families will use the same kinds of speech patters as proximity allows people to assimilate. The longer characters spend together, the more similar their speech will become.

Descriptions

When you live in a place where your family has never been and experience things they’ve never experienced, you have to learn to describe it in a way they’ll enjoy. My descriptive writing has levelled up because I must practise describing often.

Additionally, the scenery included in my books often comes from real-life experiences. There’s this Natalistide market in A Study of Ash & Smoke, where Nathan is eating a packet of caramelised almonds, and this was basically every Weihnachtsmarkt we ever visited in Germany. The smells, the feeling of being shoved in every direction, the lights and standing tables among the food stalls only exist in that book because I lived in Germany.

London, Germany, and the rest of Europe inspired the architecture in Roicester. The palace, for example, is heavily inspired by Schloss Drachenburg, one of my favourite European palaces, while Collinefort is influenced by a combination of Schloss Burg and Burg Elz.

Empathy

I’ve always been the sensitive type. I’m one of those tissue-hauling humans because I’m likely going to burst into tears at your successes or heartbreaks, whether I know you or not. But living somewhere I felt so isolated made me realise how desperately people need kindness.

I try to see the motivation behind everything a person does IRL, which means what motivates my characters is more important than ever. I also try to feel what they feel. So, of course, nobody cries as hard as I do when something happens to them.

And I’ll end this post on that note.

Until next time.

Yolandie