Why can't I do the fun stuff too?

I think this whole concept of the role of a spouse in someone else's career is interesting.

If I represent my husband (and his employer) then why aren't I paid for this? How come I am doing unpaid work for a multinational company? Why don't I ever get any acknowledgement for this? How come I never get the staff discount card? Or get invited to the fun Christmas parties?

Why can't I come to the fun training weekends? Or the teambuilding sessions that are off-site?

All I ever get are functions where I have to stand around smiling while some accountant or auditor waves a cigarette in my face as he drones on about the role of the company vis-a-vis other players. Or market share. Or the latest profit ratios.

Much more fun to go to the annual ball, everyone all dressed up and glamorous in their black tie and glittering dresses.

Or the leadership development course where you get to dress up as commandos and crawl through tunnels and climb net walls. You even get to hose each other and wrestle.

Nope, I'll be the one in a corner talking with the compliance guy.

Stop pushing me out!!

Every time I see someone these days all they do is ask me when I am leaving. Now don't get me wrong, I am quite looking forward to the excitement of a new move and the thrill of a new posting but right now I feel like I am being pushed out before my time. We have at least six months here still. Maybe longer.

But every time I see someone they ask me when I am leaving and where I am going.

The answer? I don't know.

Stop asking me. I promise I will tell you when I know something but I feel like I am getting my time cut short here. I really don't want to think about moving yet. I want my three full years. I am trying to keep the kids settled and happy where we are living now. And this posting is a three year posting, not a two and half year posting.

Does everyone want me out of here? Are they waiting in anticipation for the new guys to arrive? Bored with us?? Who knows.

But stop pushing me outta here.

Your identity a trailing spouse...do you still have one?

One of the hardest things in terms of being a trailing spouse is the change in identity. I spent my early adulthood in Australia where most of the women that I knew and associated with went to University and gained qualifications. Then they went off and got jobs. They worked their way up the career ladder. My friends were lawyers, bankers, sales directors and advertising executives. Perhaps it a was a rarified group -it was definitely a well educated one – we all had postgraduate qualifications and we had all juggled part time study with full time work for a number of years.

Then when a husband and children became part of the equation we had a whole new set of issues to negotiate. How would we, as a family, manage two careers? How would we deal with child care, housework and financial issues?

While we were in Australia it was hard work having two careers and young children. I felt like a guinea pig or a hamster in one of those revolving plastic orbs. As I worked in the political arena I had to be at work early after reading the daily newspapers and listening to the talk back radio programmes. The first meeting of the day was 7am and, if Parliament was sitting, I didn’t finish work until the House rose which could be anytime from 10pm to 4am!

Our daily routine was very, very structured. We had lists of schedules and chores that we both had to do to ensure that everything functioned. We would put the children to bed in the evenings with their clothes laid out for the next day. We did our supermarket shopping online or after hours. We cooked large quantities at a time and then froze them and we wore wash and wear clothes wherever possible!

The car was a repository of spare clothes, diapers, snack food and water bottles and I always carried Cheerio’s and dried fruit in my handbag in case someone was hungry. In the mornings we would leap out of bed. I would put headphones on and dash about the house listening to the radio as we made the beds, dressed children and organised things for dinner, (a crock pot was invaluable!) I negotiated an arrangement with a childcare centre and they fed the children breakfast and if we were able either my husband or I would drop in for lunch with the children.

Everything was fine unless the children were sick but the thing is it was such a terrible quality of life. Everyone was always tired, the house was always in a state of controlled chaos and leisure time was a thing of the past. Any spare time was used for chores – washing, ironing, cleaning, mowing, raking or restoring our 114 year old house. Should I add that I was also studying towards my PhD?

Then my husband was approached to move to Hong Kong and we knew that anything had to be better than the treadmill we had placed ourselves on. We decided that I would not work for a year or two. His new job would involve substantial travel (he would be away for one or two weeks in every month) and with young children and a new country to adapt to I would pick up the family/domestic role.

It was a fabulous decision for us.

Because domestic staff are the norm in Hong Kong I was relieved of the household burden. For the first time in their lives, I was around the children all day and, because I had no chores to do, I could study in the evenings. Everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as our lives became simpler and more manageable. When my husband was away any spare time was spent studying and then when he was back in Hong Kong, we were able to do things together as a couple in the evenings. The children were asleep and well taken care of by our helper and we could go swimming, to the gym, to dinner or simply enjoy each others company.

The only thing which was difficult to manage was the expectations of my friends back in Australia. They acted as though I had fundamentally sold out on some basic feminist principles. They asked me how I justified my existence. How I held my head high when I was doing nothing to contribute to the household? It was hard work to convince them and I spent many a teary evening trying to rationalise how badly they had made me feel until I came to the conclusion that what other people thought about my life really was irrelevant. What mattered to me, and to us as a family was that for the first time since the children had been born, our family was functioning well. The children were happy, the house was organised and my husband and I had our leisure time back. Freed from household drudgery we spent our weekends exploring Hong Kong as a family.

The children were also getting more attention and we could read and play and do fun things together without having to worry about the washing or the ironing or what was being made for dinner that evening.

Additionally, my husband enjoyed the freedom that having someone living with us offered. For us we were able to enjoy time as a couple again and it drew us together. Rather than running around like headless chickens doing chores, organising the house and trying to fit everything in, when he came back from his trips it was to a serene household which operated smoothly.

Life is kind of like a boat
Maybe there is comfort in getting older. You care less what people think of you and the decisions that you make. Perhaps it is also the fact that what is normal in one country may not necessarily be normal in another. Whatever the case, I now approach family life according to our needs. Not the expectations of others. My identity doesn’t necessarily come from outside or from what someone thinks about me. I think life is like a boat and I don’t let other people’s waves knock me. Nowadays I juggle work and family again although we still have live-in help. The children are older but for me, the main thing was learning to appreciate that the only person I have to justify my lifestyle to, is myself.

Thanks but I'll sit this one out!

If you are a serial expat one thing that you may need to consider is friendship fatigue. Hardly anything has been written about this – I don’t even know if this is the right term to use. I only know that it is an apt one. As a veteran of many expat postings, sometimes the continual need to make friends, establish relationships and create social networks becomes too much. It just feels like it is all too much of an effort. No where did this hit home to me more recently than when talking to a woman that I met during our current posting.

I talk to her perhaps once or twice day at school when I am doing the school run. We hang around in the car park together waiting for the bell to ring; two of our children are in the same classes. Say we speak for five minutes a day, twice a day: about eight conversations a week and I have been here for eight months. Say around 250 conversations to date. We chat on the phone once or twice a week and our children get together once or twice a month for sleepovers or play-dates. So a fairly regular contact has been established beyond initial cordiality.

If I were in a country associating with expats, we would probably consider each other as friends, perhaps even good friends. As expats we would approach the relationship in a different manner, if we have clicked on a basic personal level, then the details don’t matter so much. The fact that I am not sure whether her sister is younger or older, that I didn’t attend her wedding, that I have known her for a short period of time, is simply not as important. What is important is that, on some very basic level, we clicked. I liked her sense of humour, her approach to life, the way she dealt with her children, even the way her eyes twinkled and the way she laughed. There was something worth retaining – a connection.

I thought we had a friendship going on that we could take further and then she said to me “Actually, I hardly know you at all”.

I felt like I had been smacked in the face!

The thing is, as an expat I don’t have the luxury of time that she, as a local, does. To her I can be only a passing acquaintance, until I stand beside her over the years, until I do the time. The friends that she gathers around her will be around her all of her life, they will come to her children’s weddings and they will celebrate the birth of her grandchildren. I don’t have this luxury. I will leave this posting in two years. I will take some friends with me from this posting, in my heart and some will stay part of my life forever – by email, by letter and by phone. But I may not always be there in person.

The thing is I can’t wait for friends. I need them now. I can’t jump through long time periods of emotional testing to see if I am the sort of person worth of being a friend. You will either like me or not and, in the scheme of things, does it really matter if I can’t remember your sister’s name, or you know if I even have a sister? What is relevant is whether you like my approach to life, whether you can share a meal with me, laugh with me and spend time together.

I still see this woman but now I feel a bit wary. I understand the difference that we have towards friendships and I can appreciate that we are approaching the same issue from totally different perspectives but the thing is I need friends now.

And yesterday another woman from the school came over to me and, in a terribly friendly manner with her hand on my shoulder, said “I just thought I’d let you know that I am not being rude or anything, but I don’t want my children to associate with your children because I understand you will be leaving here in two years time. I don’t want my children to become close to your children because they will only be upset when you leave.”

God help me!

Two years to go… I think I’ll sit this one out.

Seize the Initiative!

You’ve just arrived in a foreign country. You’ve been posted for two or three years. What should you do?

The first thing you should do is but yourself a really good camera. And the second thing you should do is draw up a list.

Sit down with a glass of wine and a pen and think of all the things that lured you to this place. What made you say yes to this posting? What prompted you to say agree to the move? Besides the job, was it the lure of travel? The ability to learn a new language, the opportunity to appreciate a different way of life? Write a list of all the things that you want to do and then keep adding to it. When you see something interesting in a newspaper or magazine clip it out and stick it in your notebook.

We moved to Hong Kong and my list grew weekly. Initially I had things on it like visit different countries though the region, learn Cantonese, see the Great Wall of China but the longer that I was there the more variety I had on my list.

If I look back now I can see how different interests prompted new adventures.

One of my goals was to get fit – so I learnt about tai chi, did a couple of classes of fan dancing and sword dancing and then fell in love dragon boating. I became the captain of a dragon boat team, bought a share in a boat and paddled in local races across Hong Kong. In the off season I maintained my fitness by paddling an outrigger canoe, and then paddled from Hong Kong to Macau and back. Our team was met by Immigration at Hac Sa beach and it was an amazing experience paddling out of Hong Kong into the South China Sea and then back, past all the huge cargo ships laden with containers, past Pokfulam, past Aberdeen Harbour through to Deepwater bay.

My next goal was to run. As a particularly hopeless runner I set my target on doing the Hong Kong mountain races and ran across the Hong Kong countryside in pouring monsoon race. I started off doing a ten-kilometre race through the tunnels of Hong Kong in the early morning along with about ten thousand other people and finally managed to run the fifteen kilometres mountain races, my feet laden with red clay and my body slick with mud.

My next challenge was local cuisine. I decided to learn to appreciate congee. So I roped in a couple of friends and we toured the dai pai dongs of the city trying different varieties of congee – my favourite? Fish with ginger and sliced shallots. A friend introduced me to turnips cake, fungus soup and fried oesophagus. I toured the markets, ate salted eggs, hundred year old eggs and dried Chinese sausages. I experimented with fresh tofu, ate taufu fa with hot ginger syrup, toured the wildlife markets in Guangzhou, became a restaurant critic and learned how to make Indian parati in the streets of Lan Kwai Fong.

Cultural pursuits were next on my list. I learnt Mahjong, bought an abacus, took classes in Chinese herbal medicine, joined a group that did historical walks though Hong Kong and visited Zhuhai on furniture expeditions. I toured the cargo terminals, dressed up in jockey clothes in the Hong Kong Jockey Club and appeared in the Apple Daily newspaper. I did a stint as a model, inspected factories in China, taught English at primary school and interviewed politicians.

I organised a clean up day for a local beach, danced on the bar in Wan Chai and sang karaoke. I learned how to bargain, I ate rat and I drank snake wine. I learned how to string pearls.

Looking back, most of these things weren’t on my original list – they probably won’t be on yours either – but they made my time overseas challenging, exciting and memorable.

Carpe diem.

Desperate for conversation? Wear a sign around your neck!

Recently I saw a web posting about an expat woman who felt that she should hang a sign around her neck “desperate for conversation!” Most of the respondents who posting back commiserated with her feelings as well as laughing at her honesty about her need for friends.

They then went on to tell her to talk only about innocuous and general topics of conversation.

“Avoid talking about friends and families.”

”Keep the conversation general and talk about hobbies, news or items of current social or political interest”.

I agree to a point.

I do think that there is a danger of becoming utterly boring as an expat. We tend to waffle on about the last posting way too much. I know that there have been times when I am talking about a previous post and I see people’s eyes start to glaze over as they look around the room for an escape ... my husband and I have now made a pact with each other to try and avoid talking about previous postings unless specifically asked. I let people ask the questions rather than volunteering information.

But I do disagree about the fact that people can’t say that they are lonely.

Recently I went to a function that was organised by one of the parents at my children’s school. The women asked me how I was enjoying living here and I was in two minds as to how to answer the question. Should I be honest and say what I really felt or should I give the politically correct answer?

Utter conflict.

I ended up telling her about this conflict and I said it had been a tough first year because there was no real expat community to link in with. Instead we are living in a small community with very strong familial links – basically, a village. People say that you will be a local after you have been living here for twenty years.

I sat and thought about it and then I told this woman that I was lonely. I said that this place was gorgeous but because there was such a strong sense of history and community, people didn’t really need to be friendly to the occasional expat. We are like little blips on the local’s radar. We float in for a couple of years and then go again and as far as they are concerned, they don’t need us.

We need them though.

I told her that I found it difficult to meet people and, at this point, felt a bit like washing my hands of this place because it was such a hard posting; I was tempted to just sit it out.

She was horrified and said how awful that made her feel. I said that it wasn’t my intention – it was just one of those facts about different countries and places. I smiled and laughed and said it was fine and that we are a fairly self-sufficient and resilient bunch but the thing is that it made her think differently about our experiences as well as making me think about hers. As I mentioned, we are blips on their long terms social radar but she became more aware of how difficult moves can sometimes be. She tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a place where she knew no one–no family, no aunties, uncles, nephews, nieces, cousins. No school friends from way back, no university friends, no friends from her first job, no family friends, no friends of her parents, no work colleagues, no social friends. She was utterly bewildered and said that she couldn’t imagine living like this.

I said it was a choice that we had made.

The really nice thing though is that my honesty has resulted in her now having taken me under her wing. She is determined to prove that this place is the best place in the world. She has invited me over, she has phoned, she has introduced me to her friends and she has made this posting a really good place to live.

I didn’t really expect such kindness but I was just a bit tired of being polite and correct. That and a glass of wine had given me a bit of Dutch courage and the fact is that this kindness has made a big difference to us. People have become much friendlier. They take the effort to invite us over for coffee or dinner and they try to include us in things.

We as a family are delighted about this and in some way, I would like to think that we have enriched their lives as well – I know that we have one of the best dress-up boxes in town with everything from saris to Chinese silk pyjamas to Akubra hats and kangaroo skin whips! We have now hosted Australia Day BBQ’s, Chinese New Year parties and Indian buffets. My husband and I also recently coached a dragon boat team here – I think we were the only ones who had ever paddled a real dragon boat before.

The thing is though that I hope that the locals realise how much we appreciate their kindness. It has improved our time here, made the children feel more integrated and meant that I feel part of a community in way that I am not sure would have been possible if I had kept my stiff upper lip.

Blast from the Past

I got one of those emails today that put a little spring into your step. This guy that I knew about twenty years ago (that's tellling isn't it!) emailed me and said he was blasting down a highway in Australia when a song came on the radio and he remembered that it was a song I used to play all the time.

You know how certain songs feel like they were written for you alone?

Anyway, I played this song for this guy and said it was my theme song. And I had totally forgotten about this until today. The song "This Will be the Day Your Life will Surely Change" by The The caught my attention because at the time I was studying for a law degree. I was working as a paralegal and not particularly happy doing either. I remember playing this song constantly never realizing that I really did have a choice: to continue in a course I wasn't happy with or walk away.

And I remember sitting and listening morning of the exam and deciding that I wasn't going to take the exams. My life couldn't go that way.

And it hasn't

Thank Christ.

Anyway, the thing is getting that email was such a wonderful little gift. It made me remember something I had forgotten. It made me smile. It made me think of Victor and appreciate his kindness in writing to me.

And it made me glad that I never sat my Torts law examination all those years ago.

Corporate Wife? Chief Cook?

Talking at a dinner party last night I was surprised by the confusion about what the term corporate wife means to different people. Carol, a 40-something lawyer, had invited us to her house for Irish tagine and had asked one of the women around the table if she had to do the whole corporate wife thing.

"What do you mean?" said the woman, an orthodontist. "I don't have to do any of this because I have my own career."

Carol then asked whether this still meant that she had to entertain or could she opt out.

Fiona replied that she had opted out.

My husband said that he thought the whole corporate wife thing was outdated which caused a big flurry of debate.

Fiona's husband strongly disagreed and said that in Switzerland and in Germany it was still very much a career expectation that you will socialise cook and entertain at home to help the career of the dominant earning spouse, usually the male.

Me? I said that I thought the definition was a wider one than simply cooking. To me, it means the fact that I have to be involved in my husband's career at all. And I have to do it well. Occasionally I will be asked to attend a function and be as charming as I can. Listen to people that I would rather not necessarily listen to or talk to. Be engaging. Be polite. Be kind.

Some of those things are what comes easily if you are a naturally gregarious person but at times it does feel like I have to put the face on so to speak and do the whole wife thing. At those times I feel very much like the corporate wife.

And as for cooking, I think I would do his career more harm than good if I had to prepare the meal. Far more politic to put me in a restaurant where we can all laugh and enjoy the meal without the mess, cost, and fussiness involved

IT'S COMING!!

I feel like a person in a Jaws movie. You know the scenario. There is someone quietly sitting in a boat. The water is tranquil and calm and the person is happily going about their business. And then the music starts and the camera pans down to an underwater shot where a ferocious shark with rows of gleaming white teeth is circling and getting closer.

Well that is kind of like how it is for me right now.

Only I am not worried about any sharks. I am worried about winter.

Now for those of you from cold climes you can stop reading now as you will just be laughing your head off at my wimpy attitude. Others can keep reading.

The fact is that I come from a warm weather place. Stick me in Hong Kong or Delhi and I barely break a sweat. I spent three weeks in Spain where the temperature hovered around the high 30's and low 40's and I lived in jeans…comfortably! All around me, other people were turning tomato faced with heat and were red and shiny.

Stick me in a UK winter though and I suffer.

Lack of sun, lack of warmth and even a lack of light all makes me feel profoundly chilled.

Last winter I struggled through with an English boss who let me huddle besides the small heater that she brought in for me despite the centrally heated office.

I wore spencers, singlets, vests and thermals. I experimented with thermal sock liners, with possum wool socks and with cashmere socks.

Leather shoes, boots, thinsulate boots.

Nope. Still cold.

My boss and work colleagues got used to seeing me sitting in the office in my overcoat and hat … all day.

So right now, I look at the weather man with utter foreboding. I am hoping that things may have improved this year as I have had time to acclimatise but who knows.

And it is not just the weather which is worrying. It is also the rhythm of life when it is cold. When the weather is balmy, people go out. They linger in cafes, stroll along the roads and amble down country lanes. When it is cold though everyone huddles at home. It is kind of like living in a country of bears. Everyone pulls up stumps and hibernates over the winter. No one goes out and here, where I live, even the restaurants close down for the winter as many of the smarter and more astute restaurateurs pack up and head for sunnier climes.

One of the women at the school that my children go to hates the winters here so much that she leaves the country for three months every year. Now this is fine if you are rolling in cash but for the majority of us, this is a luxury we can't even contemplate, so I will be sitting tight and suffering on my own. I will be eating low glycaemic food (as apparently it keeps you warm as well as being very good for people who live in low light areas). Instead of enjoying fresh fruit, I'll be tucking into a bowl of hot porridge each morning.

I have ordered my sheepskin boots and stocked up on things that I can happily hibernate with - I am teaching myself chain mail, I have bought a kit on tapestry and can now knit and crochet. I will do all my photo albums, organise my cupboards and write Christmas cards. I will study my French language books and practice calligraphy. I am thinking about soldering something but if it entails going to the garage I'll have to give it a miss.

Winter might be lurking out there but I am armed and ready!

Bring it on!

NaNoWriMo!

I am in the middle of NaNoWriMo - National Novel Writing Month and am about half way there in terms of a first draft. I am also about three quarters of the way through another novel about Hong Kong and the goal is to have both drafts completed by the end of the year. The difficulty is juggling work with children with gym with home with friends.

At the end of the day a glass of cold white wine seems somehat more appealing than sitting in front of the computer.

Reading - November

I am currently reading a book by Julian Barnes -"Arthur & George" which was shortlisted for the Man Booker prize in 2005. It is an interesting, albeit a quite dry, read and I am about a third of the way through. The review says it is gripping and thoughtful. I am still waiting for the central plot of the story to be revealed. Perhaps soon.....

Alpha male on a cold, wet day

The weather here is miserable today. Cold, grey and wet. Slushing through water on the way to work was dismal but at least now everyone seems to have turned their central heating on and inside is warm, if steamy!

Spent the day today in meetings being nice to some people that I would rather not be nice to at all. You know the sort. They don't make eye contact with everyone in the room and have strange ,wet handshakes.

I sat next to this guy who worked very hard at doing this whole alpha male thing, pushing his papers over my side of the table, putting his coffee cup in front of me and stretching his legs out all over the place.

Ugh.

Disengaging

Am I disengaging from this posting? Someone asked why I had been keeping such a low profile lately - I thought it was just because I was busy but they thought I was disengaging because we will be moving on soon.

Maybe I am.

Part of me has in the back of my head the fact that it doesn't matter if I don't talk to so and so because in six months we will be gone from here.

So who cares what they think.

Corporate Wives Prayer

Found this on the internet and thought it worth quoting:

Heavenly Father, look down on us your humble obedient expat wives who are doomed to travel this earth following our loved ones through their working lives to lands unknown. We beseech you, oh Lord, to see that our plane is not hijacked or doesn't crash, our luggage is not lost or pillaged and our overweight baggage goes unnoticed.

Give us this day divine guidance in our selection of houses, maids and drivers. We pray that the telephone works, the roof does not leak, the power cuts are few and the rats and cockroaches even fewer.

Lord, please lead us to good, inexpensive restaurants where wine is included in the meal and the food does not cause dysentery. Have mercy upon us Lord if it be the latter, make us fleet of foot, to make the loo in time, and strong of knee in case we have to squat. Also give us the wisdom to tip correctly in currencies we do not understand.

Make the natives love us Lord for who we are and not for what we can contribute to their worldly goods. Grant us the strength to smile at our maids, even though our most treasured dress resembles a rag or they take bleach to clean our well-admired Persian rug.

Give us divine patience when we explain for the hundredth time the way we want things done and Lord if we ever lose our patience and thump them, have mercy on us for our flesh is weak.

Dear God, protect us from so-called "bargains" we don't need and can't afford. Lead us not into temptation for we know not what we do.

Almighty Father, keep our husbands from looking at foreign women and comparing them to us. Save them from making fools of themselves in nightclubs. Above all, please do not forgive their trespasses for they know exactly what they do.

And when our expat years are over Lord, grant us the favor of finding someone who will look at our photographs and listen to our stories, so our lives as expat wives will not have been in vain.

Amen

Corporate wife?

Someone just asked me what a corporate wife is and I was so surprised that I couldn't think of an answer. It seems so obvious and the word is so familiar that when I had to define it I was flummoxed. I guess to me it is someone (me) who has married a career professional and who now has to adapt to certain things - long hours, travel, entertaining, socialising, being an asset to your husband's career.

In many other jobs you have little or no interaction with your partner's employer - as a corporate wife, I have to relate, entertain, impress, socialise, accommodate and adapt to demands by my husbands' company.

Think Stepford Wives!

Who am I?

Ok. The title says it all really. We are one of those global families that pack everything up and move on to a new posting on a regular basis. And we are coming up to our next move in five months. So this can be my countdown to the next move. Currently, we have no idea which country we will be moving to or when but I am pretty sure we will be moving as Mr Banker's contract comes up for renewal in May. Is this a good thing? Right now it feels like it is since we have been living in the UK for over two years. And, although it has been great being close to Europe, I can't stand the weather here.

It is just so utterly grey.

Raining, gloomy and damp.