TCKs are fascinating.
I will warn you now, don’t tell me you are a TCK unless you want to be peppered with all my questions and theories on how TCKs thrive in this small globe.
My littles are TCKs in a land where their skin sings of their difference and of their not-one-of-us-ness. People cross busy streets just to touch their little cheeks. Others sneer and gossip in the language we have learned with faces easily translated.
Being little equals vulnerability. And yet, my littles have security that many around us cannot attain. Vulnerability comes in many forms.
His eyes widen as I teach how we must give and love as we can. We try to remember bananas for our tuk tuk rides to share with the children who flock to us at stop lights. We fight to smile at adults who would bond with us by over-touching (while I stand ready to mother-bear fight if needed).
This place is not our home. TCKs know this more acutely than the rest of us. They sense the longing of Home more accurately than we who have practiced building up comforts in our small bits of Earth. I have much to learn.
(photo from my 3 yr old of construction workers fixing our urban alleyway)