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Q U A L I TAT I V E R E S E A R C H C O N S U LTA N T S A S S O C I AT I O N 21 "…to be well traveled is one thing, but you don't really get the interplay of cultural intricacies until you've lived elsewhere." Years ago, I was introduced to the loca- vore approach to qualitative research – an idealistic practice in its own right. The principal is simple: when doing research in countries or markets outside of your own, use only local resources. Though the con- text is different, the idea remains the same: the resources that come from local sur- roundings are more natural/knowledgeable, culturally relevant, and less costly than resources imported from elsewhere. Today, however, I find myself question- ing the locavore research approach. Several years after working within the United States and developing an under- standing of my own local landscape, I was transplanted into a new one. I initially continued to operate as a locavore, consid- ering myself only capable of personally conducting research and unearthing insight in the U.S. I had the privilege of watching experienced researchers from all countries and disciplines demonstrate mastery of their craft in maneuvering the cultural nuances I had just barely begun to recognize. Now, after nearly four years as an expat, I find myself wanting to open the discussion about what it means to be a local resource, and whether or not "eating local" is the only approach worth admir- ing in a global research context. Swimming in a New Pond It recently dawned on me that I have had the unique experience of living life not quite as a fish out of water, but as a fish that had been transferred into a new pond. What's more, this transplantation elicited a completely new way of interact- ing with the very water around me and the fabric of life that is culture. Everything about my new pond was different, and the most basic elements of life that I had come across at home now included a new level of complexity, all of it centering around some history, attitude, or philosophy that needed to be evaluated and understood. Transplanting to a new pond is no easy task. Expatriation failure rates – typically defined as the expat's inability or unwill- ingness to continue living abroad after the first year – vary widely, some reaching as high as 80 percent. Those who do manage to survive such a challenging change in environment tend to hone a certain, nec- essary set of skills. They observe more keenly, and they place great emphasis on all of their interactions with others. Every encounter – for better or worse – is a learning experience. Experiencing life as a transplanted fish changes the way we function, transform- ing us into more curious, more observant, more inquisitive beings. We are trained to look for cultural nuances and threads of commonality as a survival mechanism, and this heightened awareness of the water we swim in does not fade with time. I eventually came to realize that being an expat had affected me personally and from a research perspective as well. Years of living by a different set of social rules, instead of just watching them play out from behind a figurative or literal glass, had magnified the desire for discovery in me, as well as a keen sense for when cul- tural or historical variables are at play ver- sus personal or transitional ones. I also discovered several key advantages to knowing the cultural fabric of a place while still being seen as a foreigner. Part of the initial philosophy I have always embraced about the benefit of using local resources centered around the idea that people don't open up to foreigners the way they do to one of "their own kind." There are several instances where I've seen this hold true, especially when the focus of the research specifically relates to cultural sen- sitivities or pride. But in other cases, I've discovered a type of evolution: in the age of social media and constant sharing, the world has become a more open place. Presenting myself as a researcher, explor- ing the cultural intricacies of someone else's pond while living as a transplant had given me access to peoples' lives I previ- ously thought impossible. I am able to trigger a feeling of specialness in these participants, who are often honored by the fact that someone from elsewhere has such an interest in their lives and habits. Trial and Error Another advantage expat-hood has afforded me is the ability to "play dumb." O ne of today's biggest buzzwords emphasizes the importance of what lies in our back yard: local. Slogans such as, "Buy local. Shop local. Eat local," have become part of the lexicon. Consider the loca- vore, someone who eats only food grown or pro- duced in close proximity to their home. An admirable endeavor, for sure, aiming to minimize reliance on unnatural food sources, including preservatives, and energy inten- sive transportation methods, and one whose underpinnings con- vey a similar attitude and approach that many of us exercise in our qualitative studies.