Weeping...

My wonderful, divine, funny, eldest is off to boarding school today. The car is packed. His clothes are labeled and he has his favourite food in his tuckbox. We had his choice of the family meal today - calamari, prawns, scallops. Now if I can only stop weeping long enough to come out of the bathroom all will be well.

We leave in two hours ... sigh.

Boasting mama!

School Sports Day today and the two boys totally cleaned up.

B won the hurdles, the 75m, the 200m, the 400m, the 800m, the relay, the tug of war and the long jump. He also won the outstanding athlete trophy as well as officially being the fastest boy in the school.

Z won the hurdles, the 75m and the relay.

What a day. The best thing was that they were racing against boys almost twice their size. In one race Z who weighs about 28kg was racing a boy who weighs 80kg!

It was just a perfect day. The sun came out and the boys blitzed it!!

The little guys rock!

Domestic Goddess? Moi?

I am having to revise and dust off my domestic skills. Ten years of life on the move and the various assorted amahs and domestic helpers has softened me. (Annette, Feli, Mirasol, Mary, John and N). So this week I cooked my first meals in ten years as N is still unwell. The kids of course thought the idea of me cooking a meal was utterly hysterical and sat perched on the kitchen counters in utter amusement as I prepared to cook our first meal in a decade.

H was the chopper, Z the cook and B the master organiser and recipe reader.

It worked well.

And now, after a week or so, they are really enjoyng the ritual of sitting around in the kitchen whilst everyone does something.

Meals this week?

1. Chicken with farfalle and sage
   
2. Red lentil stew with olive bread
   
3. Chili con carne
4. Salmon parcels with dill
   
5. Spicy canellini beans and pumpkin curry

And the best thing is that they are already talking about what we will cook next week. As I type H is poring through cook books and Z is arranging fresh herbs in glass jars along the kitchen window.

I like it.

I hate those last results

That stress tests is really stupid. really bloody stupid.

insane.

@!&£^shit!! &am blood*%?y p;*£jkhf j(**h^& bum V%))_& F@!!!!

Love the Expat Lifestyle!

Just did on of those online stress tests - my results?

"Thank you for taking the Stress Test!

Your total stress score is 472

If your score totals 150 or more:
You have a 50-50 chance of developing an illness.

If your score totals 300 or more:
You have a 90 percent chance of developing an illness."

Well that encouraging. Thanks a bloody lot for those results....

I'm off to have a carrot juice and go for a run.

That or a big glass of red wine.

Flying friendships

A was flown off the island this morning by emergency helicopter. We had a flurry of phone calls and texts and I rushed off to give her a hand. I have been visiting her every day, picking up her children from school, doing shopping and ferrying the husband around. I have also been a point of contact for the school and some of her other friends.

It has been a hugely emotional time. Her pregnancy was not planned although it did come as a welcome surprise, twins though were an even greater surprise and the whole pregnancy has been fraught with difficulties. There was a life threatening situation for all concerned last month when she was flown to London for treatment and an emergency operation. Stress levels are huge and we have all spent many hours crying, holding hands and laughing.

Such is friendship.

The thing is though that living on such a tiny island has its repercussions and one of them is the quality of medical advice that we have here. Basically, we either get a specialist from the UK who visits on an irregular - and extremely busy - basis or we have to make do with the local talent.

And the local talent is not always that great.

The problem here is the overloaded medical system, the lack of resources, the small talent pool and the expense of living here. Combine that with high alcoholism (and the associated injuries) and the problem is compounded.

Anyway A is now in an overseas hospital and we are all on round the clock watch. Two babies, one mum, two siblings still here being babysat by all of us and an anxious husband dashing between the two countries. The grandparents flying in as I type....

N's neck

N's neck sort of exploded. The absess thing. So we rushed her off to the hospital to get the specialist to look at her again. And they think it (and she) is doing well. She has another appointment in three weeks with a guy who flys over from London and is the hospital consultant on cases such as this. That and she sees the opthamologist and the liver guy who will be monitoring her liver for any damage. The drugs are apparently quite aggressive and so they want to keep an eye on things.

Right now she is nauseous and has bright orange urine. She is also dizzy.

She is now starting to think that she wants to go home especially as her mother keeps calling and weeping. Perhaps after she sees the consultant. She asked me to research hospitals in the Philippines and a friend of mine here (who is also from the Philipines and who speaks tagalog) has been invaluable. She has helped translate diagnoses, talk N through things and explained things to her in a way that she understands. She has been able to put into context what the doctor and I haven't as well as reassure her that she will get better if she continues to take the medications. The big worry is whether she will continue to take them if she returns to the Philipines.

N also asked me to write up a list of questions that she needs to ask the doctor as we will be out of the country when she has her next appointment.

Stay posted.

Holding my breath..

I'm holding my breath a lot these days. I know I shouldn't be but I can't help it. N walks into the room, and I hold my breath. I breathe into my shoulder. I turn my head and try to suck in air from close to my body (what use that is is anyone's guess!!) or I try to discretely leave the room.

This is insane. She must feel like a leper but no matter how I rationalise this I still feel the fear. I still panic. I still want her out of the house. Part of this is of course because of her diagnosis but another part is because I fear that she won't be honest if things change.

Most people wouldn't hide a lump on their neck until it was the size of a mandarin - they would be worried but they would go and get it checked out. Most people would get it checked out months before it grew to that size.

She is instead relying on a prayer handkerchief that someone from her village has blessed that she wraps around her neck. And, it doesn't get washed as it would wash away the blessing.

I tried to talk her out of this last night.

"N. I think you should be uncovering your neck. It probably needs air to heal."

"No. It is a prayer and if I take it off it will get worse."

"Yeah well. The doctor didn't really suggest this. Maybe you could just wear it sometimes."

"NO. I have to wear it all the time."

The problem for me is also that I don't trust her to tell me if things get worse. The fact that this boil grew to such a huge size means I don't have confidence that she will tell me if she starts to cough. If she starts to feel much worse. Or if she starts to have any other symptoms. If the TB moves to her chest or becomes active.

I don't feel like I can really trust her anymore.

Part of this is, of course, money related.

For her, working overseas has been a very lucrative move. She is earning much more than she ever did back in the Philippines and this means that she is much better off financially. For her to admit that she is not well, could mean that she loses her job. It could mean that she is sent back to her family to recuperate. Instead, she wants me to look after her.

She told a friend of mine that we are like sisters.

But that is not at all how I see the relationship. I would catergorise it as that of long term cleaning lady - I am polite and pleasant to her but basically we have a financial relationship. She is hired to do a job and the emotional relationship is very small. We don't discuss personal matters, she is not affectionate to my children, we don't talk about family matters. We discuss what vegetables to cook for dinner or what priority of household chores needs to be done. And that is about it. The thing is though that living in such close proximity to another person you have to have a more formal relationship or it simply won't sustain. The person that I want to be close to is my husband or my friends. Not N.

So things are compunded by guilt. I feel guilty about my reaction to her illnes... I feel panicked about her illness and I feel mistrustful of her ability not to make financially based decsions.

At best I see this situation continuing for about a month. She sees the specialist in four weeks and we will have more information at that point. Ideally, I want her to go home and be with her family. I want her mother to take care of her and I want my house back to myself. But I also want her to get better and not suffer by being back in a third world country. And I need to protect my family.

The banker spends his days being rationale about this. Thank God I married a rationalist and as soon as he is home I feel calmer.

Today I woke up to a house reeking of vinegar. The kitchen is steaming in vinegar. The toilets have been wiped down in vinegar. The windows polished with vinegar and her lunch is simmering away on the stove in litres of vinegar.

Her mother suggested it as a way to purify the house, and to help heal her neck.

Meanwhile I am dry retching in the study. I am trying to be OK about this but I feel ill with the smell. Add to that boiled mutton and I am just about to abandon house and home.

Vinegar, boiled mutton and TB woman walking around coughing and trailing prayer handkerchiefs wherever she goes.

So today will be another holding my breath day...

What did we think about?

Perhaps this should really be called, what didn't we think about!

Being married to a banker meant that the number of things we evaluated and considered was huge.

We started off by looking at what was happening around the world during the six months before the posting was due for renewal. We looked more seriously at what was happening in Asia and in Europe on a country by country basis. The banker called the HR departments in a number of countries where he had good solid relationships to suss out what was happening and he also started to think about contacts and connections - everything in this world is always about contacts!

Then we started having country specific discussions along the lines of "What do you think about Vietnam? India? China?"

"Sure, wherever" was usually my response.

As the time got closer the banker had to make more serious contact with the various HR departments, and he polished up his CV and sent it to various contacts in the bank. He worked out what the market was paying in different countries and evaluated what our package was worth: in English pounds, Aussie dollars, Hong Kong dollars and a variety of other currencies.

How much money could we bank is we rented a 4 bedroom house in Hong Kong and the kids went to an international school as opposed to renting in the UK and sending them to a public school? Was it a valid comparison? Which was the more likely or more favoured option in terms of accommodation, education, employment opportunities for me, tax rates, interest rates? How do we factor in health risks in Asia such as SARs and bird flu? Was it important? How would I fare in these countries (as an asthmatic) and would I breathe easier in one country or another?

I did comprehensive allergy testing.

Where did the kids want to go? Should we consider their opinion? Or not? Was the information that they offered valid or too emotional?

How would we handle moving them to another country? How much would airfares be back to Australia? And how often would we want to go? What was the impact of ageing parents on this?

Should we ship over all of our goods that are scattered all over the world to one central location? Do we leave stuff in Australia? Should we buy or rent? What was our long term retirement plan? Which country did we think we would be living in? How long would the banker have left in a traditional corporate environment? How could he best place himself in the future? What areas of the bank were more lucrative? Growing? Declining? In demand?

If we moved what would we do with the dog? The guinea pigs? The fish?

I worked out a 76 day exit strategy and planned it all out on Entourage - I worked out how long it would take to get visas, immunisations, letters from the school. I stopped buying large jars of coffee and started purchasing itty bitty sized jars.

We ate our way through the pantry and had car boot sales culling down all sorts of odd things even though we tend to travel fairly lightly.

And now?

Some of it has been for no use at all. Some of it has been very valuable and most of it has helped in making a decision that stands up on its own two feet - in terms of the banker's long term career, in terms of the children's education and in terms of our future.

Right now though all I feel is a sense of absolutely blessed relief that this whole muddied, complicated, stressful process is behind us now. For another two or three years.

And this time I am keeping all my files, all my plans and all my inventories reasonably up t date so I can just dust them off again and do it again.

See you in 2009!

Truly, madly, deeply worrying

Feel like things are truly, madly, deeply worrying right now.

Last week N comes into the kitchen with a boil on her neck. Or so I think.

N, who followed us from Hong Kong is our domestic helper. She cooks, cleans, irons. Does all those tedious domestic things around the house that keeps it functioning and operational. I do the children - she does the house.

Anyway, she comes in with this massive lump on her neck. Having very long hair that she tends to wear down, this lump has been well and truly covered. And apparently it has been growing for the last couple of months. Once I see it ( and it is the size of an apricot) I send her down to Accident and Emergency immediately.

"God N! Go down to the hospital and get this checked out! Now!"

"It is OK. I will finish cooking dinner. Maybe I go next week..."

"No. You go now!"

So off she mopes with a piece of paper in hand asking her to write down the name of the doctor, the diagnosis and the treatment.

She comes back four hours later.

"So what happened?" I query.

"Well. Um. I saw the doctor ... " she peters out.

"Which doctor?"

"The doctor at the hospital."

"I know that N. Which doctor did you see?"

"Oh. The Indian one."

"And his name???"

"Um...."

"Fine. So what did the Indian doctor say?"

"Well, he say..."

"Yes..."

"He say that he looked at my neck."

"Yes???"

"Anyway I have medicine."

Great. So she saw someone, who diagnosed something and gave her some medication. No idea who she saw, what they diagnosed or what the medicine is.

So next day, I head back down there with her and we see another doctor.

This doctor takes one look at her and immediately swabs her neck, takes a culture and sends if off to pathology. He thinks it isn't cancer but is concerned.

A couple of days later I get a call from the hospital.

"Hi. It is Dr L. I have N here with me and she wants me to talk to you. Basically N has a form of latent tuberculosis.

Fuck!!!!

Everything goes pear-faced at this point in time. My heart is racing. As a chronic asthmatic who lived in Hong Kong during SARS, I am probably best described as having marginal health anxieties. Others would be less charitable and say I am a hypochondriac. And suddenly I am living with someone who has some form of TB.

In my house.

With my children.

The thing is that I have fought for my life a number of times in an oxygen tent. I have had life threatening asthma attacks. I work hard to stay controlled and regulated. I religiously take my medication, I exercise and stay fit. I take vitamins to counter the effect of steroids. I monitor my calcium intake. I avoid triggers and all of a sudden I have my worst nightmare in my house.

I basically have to fight really, really hard not to really, really panic.

The banker calls and asks me what I want to do.

And my response? Throw her out of the house and burn her possessions. Everything is a negotiation from that point onwards.

Yet I also have a completely rational side that says to myself. "Don't be an hysteric. Get the information. Think calmly. Breathe. The hospital wouldn't let her walk out of there if she was infectious."

The other side of me is still screaming and running in circles in utter panic.

Calm side googles TB.

Panicked side pulls my T-shirt up into a makeshift face mask and tries to hold my breath.

Calm side asks N how she is feeling and tells her to telephone home. Encourages her to talk to her family. Explains the situation to her boyfriend.

Panicked side of me sprays the phone with disinfectant before I use it.

Calm side gets out a highlighter and reads about Active and Latent TB.

Panicked side stocks up on N95 face masks and opens all the windows. Then sits in the car with the doors locked.

Sigh....

Its official!

The news is in. The Grand PooBah's of the bank have signed off and we are now being localised. All the toing and froiing of the last few month are finally resolved. It has been announced by the bank to all the staff and everyone has congratulated each other and patted everyone on the back.

And what an amazing process it has been.

We started talking about this in October 2006 and it is now June 2007. Eight months of huge uncertainty and utter stress.

Eight months of not knowing where we would be living.

Eight months of parallel lives.

We have invited lives in Thailand, Vietnam, India, Sydney, Brisbane, Hong Kong, Singapore, Manila, London and Paris. We have thought about Moscow, Prague and New York. We have discussed retirement, changes of career and walking away from everything to become waiters in Turkey on our own sailing boat.

The kids have been home schooled, sent to boarding school, public school and private schools. They have theoretically boarded in London, Paris, Thailand and Sydney. We have relocated to France and lived a self-sufficient lifestyle as restaurant owners.

I have worked as waitress in Turkey, a photographer in France and a Compliance Officer in the UK. I have returned to University as a Professor. I have gone into marketing, I have set up web sites and been an entrepreneur.

I have become an author.

And this process , regardless of the decisions made and the stress which it has created, has been incredibly enlightening as it has enabled us to really discuss what sort of life we want to live.

It has prompted a complete re-evaluation of goals, ideas, values and priorities.

We have reevaluated everything that is important to us as a family, as a couple, and as individuals.

And not many people really get a chance to do a complete overhaul of their lives every three years.

It's a good thing.

B+? ..... A good effort!

As mentioned previously in this blog, I have become a very keen amateur photographer. Actually a really annoying, incessant, obsessed and determined photographer. Most weeks I take around 500-800 photographs. Lots don't always work but many do. And, each time I take one, I think I learn something about how to make it a bit better. ISOs, apertures, shutter speeds, settings and lenses are all becoming increasingly familiar although still far from automatic.

Anyway I have decided to prepare a sort of year book for the kids - especially B - as he is leaving this year and I wanted him to have a sense of closure which is incredibly rare for expats as well as a lasting memento of his time at the school.

So I checked with the headmaster that it was ok to embark on this project. I called all the parents and asked them if they would mind if I took photos of their children. I took photos of all of the children in his class, and then emailed them to all the parents. I asked for feedback (just to be polite...what do I care what they think is the best photo - most of them have no idea and chose the worst photo out of them five to ten that I sent. If one was the slightest bit fuzzy, you can guarantee a parent chose it.)

Anyway I then loaded all the photos on a web page, found a company that could print them, did a dry print run, passed it around, redid the print run in alphabetical order and then had them bound in perfect binding.

Perfect bound books, shiny paper, glossy cover, title page and really cool graphics, head and shoulders photos of all the kids in their school uniforms. Nice background bokeh in all of them. All pimples airbrushed out.

I charged £20 per book and ended up donating almost half of this amount back to the school library as well as to the end of the year party. No one helped at any point. No one contributed anything. Most of the parents couldn't be bothered to answer emails or phone messages. For thirty children I sent over 250 emails cajoling responses and begging for replies.

And what do I get from one of the mothers? One of these unemployed, housewife mothers. Who wear cardigans from Boden and their mother's pearls to do the school run. And pale pink lipstick.... with blue eyeshadow?

"Oh yes, hello, I saw the book. Quite a good effort."

In this soft condescending voice.

A good effort?? Give me a break. This from the mother who said to me: "James would like his puppy included in the school photo. Can you arrange that?"

No. I can't. This is a book that I am doing for my son and I just happen to be giving you the opportunity to purchase on of your own. You are doing nothing to help this booklet get produced. Nothing constructive and this is the best that you can offer me by way of thanks? By way of the twelve photos I took of your son with a portrait lens? A condescending "quite a good effort"?

Give me a break . It was a feckin fantastic effort to inspire this by to smile. To airbrush out his pimples. To email her all these photos, to call her back cajoling her for a response, to not get annoyed when she said that he hated the photo and then be polite again when she took a photo on someone's mobile and wanted that included - of her son with a yellow curtain behind his head dissecting it in half.

"I haaaate the photos!! I look ugly in them."

Well you know what? Unless you are prepared to get off your butt and do something you have absolutely no right at all to complain about something that you could never have achieved.

It's always the ones who don't make the effort themselves who criticise others.

I really think though that criticising someone who achieves something is totally unfair unless you are prepared to do better yourself.

Put up or shut up.

There. That's off my chest now.

And I am off to school to pick up the kids and , unfortunately, probably see Mrs Quite Good.

Argh

In or not?

Tomorrow we find out how B has done in his exams - whether or not he has got high enough marks to gain entrance to the chosen boarding school. And even though I don't want him to leave and go away, I know that he desperately wants to go to this school.

He has tried really hard for these exams and has spent an awful lot of time studying. This is probably one of the first times that I have ever seen him really knuckle down and approach something with a specific goal in mind.

Z is normally the goal-focused one of the family, and these past few weeks it has been B who has sat down at the dining room table with his books, B who has asked questions about English and B who has queried how mathematics problems are solved.

He brought home one of his exam papers yesterday and he worked through it again in his own time and then asked the banker to double check it and the banker, being a banker of course, could do this. B did very well.

So tomorrow we find out, and my heart is just itching to know and really, really hoping for good news for him.

Although it will break my heart to send him away.

The mother's dilemma!

Sign Offs

We are getting sign -offs.

Finally!!

The Grand and OmnipotentPooBah of Money has approved the deal. Vice President of Banking Confusion has also approved it and The Global Head of Things the Bank does to Obfuscate and Delineate has just signed off.

It is just up to Chief Evangelist of Mission-Critical Portal Deployment to sign her name and we are in business.

I can't wait to see what the banker's title will be but I do think it needs to be something incorporating all of the words below at the very least!!

Lead Senior Direct Corporate Dynamic Future Product National Regional District Central Global Customer Investor Dynamic International Legacy Forward Internal Human Chief Principal

Solutions Program Brand Security Research Marketing Directives Implementation Integration Functionality Response Paradigm Tactics Identity Markets Group Division Applications Optimization Operations Infrastructure Intranet Communications Web Branding Quality Assurance Mobility Accounts Data Creative Configuration Accountability Interactions Factors Usability Metrics

Supervisor Associate Executive Liason Officer Manager Engineer Specialist Director Coordinator Administrator Architect Analyst Designer Planner Orchestrator Technician Developer Producer Consultant Assistant Facilitator Agent Representative Strategist

Freedom

The exams have finished!!

Thank God.

It has been a hard slog getting the kids to focus and then helping them to commit to this for the ten days off that they had from school. These exams were very important for two of them - they are entry points for schooling and getting a good (or at least reasonable) result means that they are much better placed as far as education is concerned with more choices and options, regardless of where we will be living.

For B, in particular, these exams were important, as many of the schools are selective and for him to get admittance he needs a specific grade point average across all subjects even those ones that I am not really motivated or fussed about such as religious education. Previously he was sitting at a rather spectacular 40% in RE but this time he had to get a minimum of 55% . So rather than attempting to teach him something that I don't really know about or care to focus on, we addressed the specifics of exams techniques, how to memorise facts, summarising, preparing charts, mnemonics, exam techniques, comprehension, studying strategies etc. B was pretty keen about it all and spent around 4 hours a day studying which I hope will make a difference.

Z on the other hand made the whole process as much fun as pulling teeth. Just getting hm to sit still on a chair felt like a feat of achievement. He squirmed and fidgeted and twisted thrugh the entire ten days but now, as the results start to come though, he must have been absorbing something as he has done better this year than in previous years. A solid performance which is pleasing: around the high 70% for most subjects.

H was fixated on a project involving kookaburras - twigs, feather, clay, sellotape all disappreared into her bedroom only to emerge as a heavily laden cardboard sheet encrusted with various examples of a a kookaburra's life.

Right now though things are lovely. All the study folders and papers have disappeared from the dining room table, the sun is out and we are on the countdown to sumer holidays. I don't have to nag or cajole anymore and the only thing on at school are fun activities - sailing, swimming, arts, surfing.

A summer hiatus.

Exam time, cram time...but in which country?

The kid are studying right now for the big end of year exams. These results will help determine which school they go to, only the big question remains unanswered ... in which country?

How can I inspire them to study for exams when we are still in a muddle about where we will be living? The fact that we don't have a written contract yet is weird. Is the banker's employer they just dragging their heels and particularly slow, or is there a problem?

We have no idea and I am now so over this whole process. It has been about eight months of total uncertainty and confusion.

In the beginning, there was the talks with the kids about "we'll be leaving here soon" so we didn't book sumer holidays, sign up for school trips in 2008, make plans to bring family over because "who knows where we will be living?"

And of course all these conversations were parcelled up in bright tones and happy faces to try and inspire the children to look at this upheaval in a positive way.

"Won't it be so exciting?" And "Where would you like to move?" and "Won't it be fun to be somewhere new?"

The answers varied. Some times it was a very disgruntled and curt "no."

Other times there was some marginal excitement. If there was a bad day at school, then there was a definite "Yeah, I can't wait to leave here and the sooner, the better!"

After that we progressed to the "let's get things sorted out stage". We cleared out old papers, culled clothing that didn't fit and passed on toys that were of no use to hospitals and homes. We did inventories and started doing research on possible places and countries we may be relocating to.

Then we moved to the "let's make do stage".

"Sweetheart, I know your school uniform is a bit small but we can't really buy a new one for such a short period of time. You'll just have to make do until we get to the new place."

After that came the "let's eat everything in the freezer stage." This was shortly followed by the "let's drink everything in the drinks cabinet stage".

Baked beans, beetroot, canned tomatoes and rum cocktails for dinner. Very surreal meals have been gracing our dinner plates as we plough through odd cans, packets and bottles amassed over the last three years. Why did I ever buy so much miso? Or dandelion tea? How do I use mackerel, quinoa, and wakame all washed down with tequila, scotch and Kahlua.

Then we had the excitement stage "only two months and we should know something. Things are getting closer to a decision!"

"Soon we will know."

"Maybe next week we will know."

"Dont bother us, we'll let you know when we know!"

Then we had the "Oh my God I think we have an answer!" but this was almost immediately followed by the "let's wait till we have something in writing" stage.

We are still waiting though....

Now I am at the ostrich stage. I'm just going to ignore this whole messy, complicated, powerless, worrying, stressful, complicated process and carry on as though I am living here forever.

Large jars of peanut butter on sale at the supermarket? Yep, I'll buy two. New clothes? Yep bugger it, I'm buying new school clothes.

Drag me out when I am good and ready now.

You've mucked us around for far, far too long.

We spoke too soon!!

Its all on again. We are still not sure what is happening and things are still in limbo. The fact that they haven't signed off on things even though they have done all the gentlemanly handshaking and back slapping is giving us cause for worry.

If we don't get a contract then where are we? Where are we living? And what are we doing? What is happening?

It's all on again.

Shit.

Unbelievable

The banker's employer drags their heels so much. I can't believe it. We are still waiting for this contract to be presented. Still waiting for them to get themselves in order so we can start the process.

Still waiting.

I feel like I have spent the last eight months waiting for them to get themselves organised.

I mean how difficult can it be? I have been organised for five international moves to be done at the drop of a hat. I have booked schooling in five countries, paid deposits,, checked out accommodation and organised immunizations. I have done full itineraries of the house labelling and quantifying everything. I have taken digital photos of every item, filed it by room and added a variable so it can be calculated according to currency changes. I have sorted out rooms, culled possessions and had car boot sales. I have prepared children, sorted guinea pigs and arranged dog vaccinations. I have alternative plans in every country of the world and, yep, we are still waiting for them to insert his name into an employment contract.

Sigh.

Monkeys and Quad Bikes. The perilous art of negotiating your employment package.

We told the kids what is happening and now they are dying to tell their friends but they have to wait until the contract is in the banker's hot little hands. Signed, sealed and delivered. Then they can tell.

The thing is that even though the banker felt we shouldn't tell them, I have disagreed. I wanted them to be involved with this decision from the beginning as it affects them as well and learning, to my mind, is not just about school. It is also about learning how to make decisions, weigh up options and think about consequences.

We asked each of them to write up lists of the pros and cons for each move we have contemplated over the last few months and their answers have been really interesting.

Hong Kong - this was a possibility and the children raised concerns about SARs, the possibility of a second 9/11, the Bali bombing, Osama Bin Laden and apartment living. They were also concerned about the cost of living but the fact that dim sum was available was a very big plus as were swimming and snakes. Proximity to Australia was also a plus as were cheap taxis.

UK - mad cow was a concern as was wind, rain, damp, fog and the fact that life here is boring. On the positives we had potatoes, roast dinners and mud. Another negative was the fact that there is little snow but this also featured on the positives side as we do get some snow.

Australia - positives included relatives, sun, beaches, cousins and kookaburras. Coles New Farm got a mention. On the negatives Australia was unknown to them and they thought they might get teased as they have English accents. They also thought they would be crap swimmers compared to their friends and they woud miss moules et frites from France.

Vietnam - pluses included wearing strange hats and riding motor bikes. Negatives? Bird flu.

Thailand? Lots of curries and noodles and elephants. On the negative side, being hot and sweaty, far away from friends and having to learn another language.

The thing is that they all have their dream posting and we have had strong lobbying from all of them over the past few months.

H was particularly keen to do a posting to India as she has been studying rain forests and she fancied herself the proud owner of a tamarind monkey.

Z just wants to stay put. He loves it here - the sense of community and the open spaces.

B, on the other hand, just wants to go to boarding school and doesn't really care where the rest of the family lives as long as he heads off to his chosen school with his mates.

I filed all of these lists with the banker's papers and I can just imagine him pulling them out at one of these negotiation meetings.

"Well thanks for the offer of the posting to .... but is there any chance of adding a monkey or a quad bike to the package?"

Would have made for an interesting look on his employers' faces at the very least.

Wicked fun!

I have to keep this quiet and it is driving me crazy. We just need to wait for the official announcement to be made and then we can tell people but I am sick of having the same conversation fifteen times a day.

"So where are you guys going? Do you know yet?"

I like the fact that they care enough to ask but after you have had your fifth conversation on the same subject and it is not even 9am you start going a little bit weird.

I find my first conversation is very polite and I get progressively more imaginative and creative as the days goes on - the provocative part of me wants to jolt people. I cant help it.

"Actually we are really keen on getting a post to Kazakhstan now that we have all watched Borat."

"I am keen that the children don't get a traditional English school education so I am exploring boarding schools in Thailand - their sport would be elephant polo which will hold them in SUCH good stead in the future."

"We are thinking about really challenging the children and picking a hardship posting to really stretch them intellectually and emotionally. Have you got any recommendations?

"I am exploring home schooling."

"We are getting divorced. Do you know any single rich men?"

"Actually, we are leaving the children here as they are so happy. Would you like to board them? We'll pay of course but they just seem so happy it would be a pity to uproot them at this stage in their education.

Such wicked, wicked fun.

I know where we are going.

Finally, resolution. I know what we are doing and where we will be living. I know what the bankers new job will be and what is happening with children and their education. Everyone has done their negotiation, they have scrabbled and scrambled and hands have been shaken and contracts drawn up. The banker is happy and excited which is excellent.

The only thing though - I can't tell anyone anything until Friday when the contract is signed, sealed and delivered and the announcement made.

Bugger.

Legend Man

The banker threw me a surprise party the other day. He planned the menu, invited the guests, arranged for friends to fly over from London and chose the theme. He printed up photos of me over the years and decorated the room with them. He bought banners and balloons. He organised for friends to write on the photos and bound them into a booklet. He kept the secret and never let on anything instead telling me we were having a quiet evening on our own.

What an utter legend of a man.

Really fucking insane

Things are insane right now. Really and truly fucking insane. This morning was Hong Kong. And then an hour ago (10:30am) the banker received a phone call from Australia regarding a change of career. A total change of career. So now, I am looking at Australian schools, places to rent, property to buy.

To me this feels really depressing. Really normal. Really dull. It feels like things will be over. The end of an era. I don't want to do this. I don't want to finish this lifestyle of moving and travelling. I don't want to have to be like everyone else. I like the joy of new places and new opportunities.

And I am trying really hard to be supportive and cope with this but I am getting told we are living in three different places a day. I don't care anymore. None of this has anything to do with me anyway. It is all about him and what the right move will be for his career.

It is all really, really boring.

The ongoing saga

Too wiped to write.

Too sick of the machinations to even think about this.

Last night we were moving to HK in ten weeks, having to think about HK schools again, accommodation, education catchment zones, car boot sales, selling winter coats and planning farewells.

This morning the negotiations are on again. So today I am reviewing houses to buy and rent over this side of the world.

Lets see where we are by the close of business today.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Feel like I am living in a David Bowie song. Yesterday we were staying put, last night we were moving to France and this morning we are going to Asia. Right now though we don't know again. HR is talking to HR, meetings are being arranged and we are once again speculating on stuff that we don't have answers to.

My son has given up asking me where he will be going to school, the grandparents just sigh and I have chewed my cheeks to pieces.

ARGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Boarding Schools revisited

Stuck in boarding school hell right now. I can't decide what to do with my son. If we stay here, it will have to be boarding school so I am now researching boarding schools - everywhere. France? The UK? Switzerland? Amsterdam? Australia? Thailand?

What I don't know about boarding schools frankly isn't worth knowing.

And then today I meet someone who does one of those know-it-all things.

"Yes, well actually, the school that you have thought about is such an inferior school! One should really look elsewhere is one cares about one's son."

Really? It has a 98% admittance to first preference university places? And acres of grounds, fabulous facilities, lovely nice well spoken boys.

"Yes, but seeing as it isn't a guaranteed 100% university entrance, it really is rather shabby."

Give me a break. Where do these people get off. My old school had about a 20% university entrance and that was a private school - a fee paying selective school.

Does my head in.

The thing is though that I don't really want my son to be hobnobbing with fabulously rich people. I don't want him hanging out with insanely competitive children. I don't want him to feel inadequate or lack confidence. I want him to go somewhere that he will be happy. Somewhere that he will grow and mature in and that is accessible to us so we can see as much of him as possible.

A 100% toffy nosed, dysfunctional, academic, rich, nerd is not my idea of future happiness for him.

But what do I know? I'm Australian!

Meetings

Endless meetings seem to be happening right now. Every time I try to call my husband, he is in a meeting.

Online meetings, video meetings or virtual meetings.

Cyber conferences.

Meetings with HR people here, meetings with HR people over there.
He is even flying out of the country to go and see some people.

They want to have a meeting.

What a surprise!

Another month bites the dust.....

Still no further on from the last time I posted and everything is still in utter limbo. The only thing that does seem to be a fact is that my son and my husband probably won't be living in the same house anymore. The reality that appears to be looming is that either my son goes to boarding school or I live separately from my husband and the children go to day school in another country with me whilst my husband does the commute on weekends.

What sort of a mess have we got ourselves into? There are no schooling vacancies here and the waiting lists are beyond feasible and yet we have children who have to go to school.

So its one or the other and I am feeling totally torn by this situation. I don't want a fractured family. I don't want to live apart from my husband. I don't want my son to go to boarding school.

But the reality is - it's one or the other.

Sigh.

Moving?

My husband came home last night talking about a possibility which has us staying over this side of the world for a few years longer and, whilst I can see the logic of this, when he was talking about it, one part of me wanted to jump up and say "NO!!!"

Staying here feels a bit like I am missing out on some fundamental enjoyment of life. Things are just different and often , I don't know if it is a difference that I like.

Positives?

1. Safe environment to raise a family
2. Health environment - no birds flu or SARs to worry about. When we left Asia we had gone throuh SARs and two of the chidlren had also been hospitalised with Beijing Flu.
   
3. Easy life. I can be wherever I need to be in about ten minutes. No traffic worries, parking issues or late night transport problems.
4. Continuity for the children with friends and a stable environment.
   
5. Fabulous education system. They will be set up for life - this is a huge plus.
   
6. We have friends here - although as many of my friends are expats - that is a worry as in a few years they will have all moved on.
7. The possible job will be more lucrative.
8. We know our way around here - we ahve done the hard legwork finding doctors, dentists etc.
9. We will probably buy a property over this side of the world - perhaps France so we have a base of our own.
   

Negatives?

1. The weather. Grim, grim and grim.
2. The cold and wet - 6 months of the year this place is crap.
3. Living in this current house. I like the convenience - hate the carpeting, lighting, space issues.
4. I miss swimming and the sun.
   
5. Small island life - boring.
6. I hate the way people socialise here- always girls night out. Never couples doing things together. Such a weird way to have a social life when it is only single sex entertainment.
7. It is hard for me to work here - and I want a fulltime job - maybe this can be negotiated though.
   

Time will reveal all.

Boarding School?

So now we are caught between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, my son is about to graduate. On the other hand, there are no school places available for him where we live. So what to do? I lie in bed thinking through various scenarios till my head spins or I chew the side of my mouth to pieces.

The thing is, for us, boarding school has never been an option. My head is full of Dickensian images. Children begging for more gruel. Caning. Iron beds. Fagging. Prefects. Strange boys who grow up to become seriously strange men with a penchant for wearing suspenders and ladies silk stockings under their three pieces suits.

And now I find myself in the same situation.

I have imagined relocating. Moving back to Asia. Moving close to a UK based school. Returning to Australia. Boarding next to grandparents. Day boarding. Home schooling. Even setting up my own school - if I am having these thought surely other parents must be having similar thoughts?

So last week I headed off on the Great UK Boarding School Expedition.

And I am impressed. Seriously impressed.

But I didn't want to be. I really didn't want boarding school to be an option for us. I wanted to shake my head smugly and say "boarding school may be ok for some... but not for us!"

Instead I can home in a lather of excitement. The facilities are superb. Teachers? Kind. Food? Delicious. Academic achievements? Brilliant. There was simply nothing to fault the school on. The best thing though were the boys. Scruffy, long haired, smiling, happy, well spoken, calm, friendly boys. The kind of boys that you would want your son to grow up to become. They spoke confidently about their work. They made eye contact and they smiled. They laughed a lot. They were motivated to read and study for the sheer enjoyment of learning something. They were creative - the school has a strong design bent - and they all knew two languages. Their bedrooms were clean but a bit messy. No anally retentive housemasters ordering them to make hospital corners on their beds - most of them had duvets on them.

I want to go!

What happens if we stay?

The banker came home the other day and raised the possibility of us staying here for a longer period of time - and I have no idea what I think about that. On the one hand, the schooling here is superb and I can see a huge benefit for the children in staying here for a longer period of time. The classes are very small, they get individual attention, the school is very close to our house, the curriculum is very wide and they get a lot of exposure to different subjects, teachers and classes... far better than we experienced in Asia.

On the other hand, I hate the weather here. The word that most springs to mind is grim. Living in a small place limits opportunities. I can't always do the things that I would like to do. Getting off the island is expensive and difficult to manage both in terms of the weather, the cost and the sheer logistics.

But really none of these things will have any impact at all. It will come down to the job and whether the job is the right one for him at the time. This is not a matter of him being selfish - it is a matter of us recognising the best possible outcome for the family as a whole.

My job is to make sure that everyone is happy and manages regardless of where we are. If we stay here I would like to buy a property rather than living in the accommodation that the bank provides. Somewhere in Europe is an attractive option as it would give us a base that is not so far away. This would also provide some continuity for the children rather than living in provided accommodation. Also, if we have a base then we can stop this endless culling of possessions. Each time we move we are limited as to how much we can ship and with a house full of kids we seem to be endlessly accumulating whether it is the collection of shells, stickers or rocks or simply books and novels. By having a base we can retain some of this stuff and keep it in one location.

So right now I have two things in my head. Moving back to somewhere in Asia. Or staying put.

And things will start happening and decisions will be made over the next four months....

I won't cry either...so there!!

I met one of the mothers at school this morning and she felt compelled to share with me the fact that when I leave, she won't cry.

She said that she never cried when people leave and that if I am expecting her to shed a few tears at my farewell then I will probably be disappointed.

Ok. Well. Thanks for that.

What I am supposed to say to that sort of a comment? Thanks for sharing your feelings with me? Thanks for letting me know what you think of me...six months before I leave?

Jeez.

Canon 400D

As part of the expat "thang" the corporate spouses get an allowance for each move that they undertake - commonly referred to as the Unhappy Wives Allowance. And with a portion of my "allowance" I bought a Canon 400D. So now I am living life through a camera lens. Everything is a potential shot, closeup or excuse to zoom in on a subject. I adore it. Unable to find a photography course here on the island, I have found one online and am busy snap, snap, snapping away.

Lost

My phone is dead. I can't reset it. It won't move. Utterly frozen. I can't stand it. I am so used to having it with me - and I sync everything with it as well - shopping lists, books, photos, travel lists, my gym workouts... everything!

I am utterly lost.

Some things I do know!

We went out for dinner the other night. Fabulous food, great company but I ended up getting into an argument with the host. I know it was wrong of me but I couldn't help myself.

The thing is that there are some things that I do know about.

I won't argue banking with a banker. Or Argentinian politics with Argentinians. I will defer to anyone who wants to discuss farming. Or Japanese politics. I know nothing about mathematics. Hopeless at physics, science, business news. Useless at European politics unless Anne Boleyn is mentioned. Can't speak German. I know nothing about cars other than what colour they are and I can't discuss soccer, rugby, cricket or tennis.

But there are some things I do know and it is very hard not to say something when it is in my area of knowledge.

I know about campaign finance. I actually know a shit-load about this. I know about literature. I am good at research. Not bad at IT stuff (but not great!) I am learning about photography.

The thing is though that this guy was talking about Hong Kong and I DO know about Hong Kong.

I worked as a writer there. I reviewed restaurants and was a guest of the Consul at his private residence. I did freelance writing (which gave me an excuse to poke my nose everywhere!) and I had local friends. I helped arrange the first writers festival in Hong Kong and I put on art shows for multinational corporations. I toured illegal kitchens, ate snake and turtle, did mountain running during a typhoon and rowed to Macau in a canoe. I worked for one of the Chambers of Commerce. I did courses on Chinese medicine and taught beauty therapists about Brazillian waxing. I paddled in a dragon boat team for many years. I hiked and was in a group that explored the seamier side of life. I stayed at Chung King Mansions. My children went to a local school. I stayed overnight in a brothel, dressed up as a jockey at the Happy Valley Race Track. I was in the Apple Daily. I worked as a lingerie model. I learnt Cantonese (badly). I bargained, photographed, interviewed. I gave birth in a local hospital. I wrote porn. I was presented to Prince Edward.

And this guy was saying things that while they were probably very true when he was living there weren't true anymore.

And he wouldn't back down.

I wanted to jump up and down and yell and say "NO!!!! I know Hong Kong. You can have every other subject that you want. Talk about business and banking and Dubai and Brunei and Malaysia. Talk about cars and sports and travel and global warming. Talk about gardening and sailing and Mendel's theory of genetics. I don't care and I will be polite and smile and do all the right stuff.

But you know what? Sometimes ... just sometimes ... I won't.

From this....

...to this

So where next?

Every conversation these days is about the next move. Every tidbit of revolves around where we may be in the next six months. Someone is resigning? So what does that mean for us? Is he senior? Or more junior? Does this have any implications?

So-and-so is leaving. So who is replacing him? Is it likely that they will do an internal hire or will they look elsewhere? How about a local hire? Is that more likely?

And it is doing my head in!

The worse thing is that because I am on the periphery of all these conversations - they happen at his work, with his contacts and his emails, and his colleagues - I feel like I am grabbing at straws. Each nugget of information I wonder about, think about and Google.

Vietnam? Hmmmm.

Japan??

Hong Kong??

How about staying put?

Or moving back to our home town?

How about Prague?

Or India?

What do I think about Singapore?

Manila?

Thailand?

Shanghai?

I do an Internet search, think about it, imagine it and plan it and then a few days later things have moved on and I am still stuck back in whichever country was last discussed.

And each day things shift. One day we are staying, the next moving, the next throwing up our hands in despair. It is all just utter speculation.

In some ways I would prefer that he just came home and said "We are moving to X." It would make my life much less stressful although it wouldn't be fair on him as he needs to vent and talk things through just as much as I need to hear them so we do this strange tango where he speaks and I try not to get emotionally involved in what is being said.

Add all of this to the complicating factor of children. Where will they go to school? Which school? Which country? Which hemisphere for God's sake!

When we left Hong Kong they dropped Cantonese and Mandarin and they have now picked up French, German and Latin. What next? Will I try to continue these languages or should they swap again? What if we are back in Asia? Changing horses mid-stream is getting harder as they grow older. They know nothing about Asian government, politics, history, languages now - everything is about European history, Kings and Queens and Victorian times.

How about me? Will I be able to work wherever we move next? Doing what? Writing? Endlessly reinventing a career? Will I go back to academia? Will I have a visa? Will there be a University there? Or will I end up being a club mother again ferrying children to and from school and other activities.

Right now it is just baby steps. I am doing an inventory of the house. Clearing out cupboards and sorting through papers. Culling down really.

And I am taking lots and lots f photos of all the normal things that we do in a day. The school run. The supermarket, the high street in town so that if and when we do get the nod we will at least be ready.

Sigh....