Where are you from? How long have you been here? When are you going back home?
These are the questions expats ask one another in the several Persian Gulf countries that play host to millions of people from more than 200 nationalities, who have all left home in search of better economic opportunities.
As a white South African, an answer to the third question is never as simple as it is for those from almost any other background.
Do we have a “home” to go back to? None of the Brits has to ask themselves that. Some may get a bit overly emotional about how Brexit has destroyed their country, but they know it’s all hyperbole, and they will have a functioning, welcoming country to return to when they decide that they’ve had enough of the air-conditioned desert. For some, that may take a very long time indeed: I’ve met quite a few British expats who never stop moaning about life here, but who after 19 years away from home have no intention of going back anytime soon. Life is just too good.
But yes, the Brits, the Americans, the Canadians, the Filipinos, they all have somewhere to go back to, somewhere they belong, somewhere they are, if not “wanted”, then at least not considered an undesirable presence, a reminder to those now in power of past defeat, perceived inadequacies and trauma.
The same is true for the labourers from Bangladesh and Pakistan, who may not always have the most prosperous or stable nations to return to, but who nevertheless are never in any doubt about where they belong. It doesn’t hurt that they’ll be returning home richer than anyone else in a 10-kilometre radius.