Letters from an Expat Wife
Last time we talked I told you about our move, remember?
Because of the school situation of our oldest (she was about to start IB), we decided that the kids and I would leave before my husband. This is quite unusual. The expat way of doing things is either you go altogether or the working spouse (in my case the hubby) will go first. This time, I didn’t want the kids to be late for school, so we agreed that hubby would coordinate the movers, wait for his visa and follow us. No later than three weeks. Long story short: six months into our journey, he still hasn’t been able to join us. The problem: the visa. This is an expat obstacle we face regularly. Even though your new host country and all the people there might love to have you, the same can’t always be said about the immigration system.
But let’s rewind for a moment…
So, after a flight of two hours, the kids and I arrive at our new destination. We check into our hotel. The people are all very nice and friendly and we are all very excited to be there. We go to our room, everything looks lovely. We unpack, turn on our AC and step out for lunch. When we come back the room smells like rotten eggs. At first, we don’t understand it until my daughter solves the puzzle. It’s the AC! So, we pack again and inform the personnel. Ten people come up to our room to apologize and tell us we’ll be moved. While we’re leaving smelly town, my daughter says: what if all the AC’s smell like this? True! The kids and I start going to each room, turning on the AC and smelling. With ten people from the hotel following us. Until we find the (possibly) only non-smelling AC at the place. We celebrate with our complimentary drinks at the poolside.
Next must do on the list after a move is look at houses. When the kids are too young you don’t involve them. But in my case, they really get to have a vote. Although I’m not so sure they all appreciate this, since it involves hours and hours of driving around and seeing the most beautiful places but also the biggest dumps you can imagine. And to make it more festive, we were sitting on the backseat of a bakkie in 35 degrees Celsius with no AC.
After weeks of waiting and still no hubby in sight, we decide to move into a temporary furnished home. Because: no hubby, no container. So, until he makes it into the country, we won’t see our stuff back.
School starts and we start meeting new people and getting acquainted with this beautiful new city we are living in. A month later I started getting slightly nervous because before we moved, I had booked a course in Holland for which I have to travel quite a bit. At the time that didn’t seem like a problem because hubby would be there to take care of the kids. Since he still isn’t around, I contemplate cancelling it, but am encouraged, especially by the kids, not to do that. I embark on this heavy-duty educational path which involves a lot of studying and traveling for 12 hours every three weeks. I don’t let the sleepless nights and the heavy load get to me and keep a 24/7 smile on my face. We can do this! It’s an adventure. Hubby will be here soon! The kids have challenges on their end as well. They must get used to a new place, start new friendships and start feeling at home while we have no idea when our family will be reunited or when our stuff will get here so we can start finding and decorating our real home. They need answers which I can’t give them. “When is daddy coming?” “When am I going to sleep in my own bed?” “Do you think we will have our own home by the time for my birthday?” I want nothing more than to give them answers, but I can’t. I simply don’t know.
So, I keep a smile on my face and get into the role of super mom. Halloween at school? Sure, I’m there to help! Kids need to go to three different parties? You can count on me! A charity dinner needs to be organized? Why not? In the meantime, studying and all the other responsibilities of a single mom (because that’s how I feel at the moment) continue.
The only thing that keeps me going is the thought of Christmas break. I will see my hubby then. And my friends. On a paradise island we will meet, hubby will romance me off my feet throwing rose petals where I walk, and my friends will be waiting there with a gold medal at the finish line. Well done! Super mom!!
School closes for the break and we jump on a plane. I can’t wait for my dream to start! We arrive on the most gorgeous island. Hakuna Matata! There are no problems here! No worries! It sounds too good to be true.
And it is. My holiday starts and it is nothing like I envisioned it. Everybody has had their own lives for the past months. Even hubby has moved on in a way to be able to cope. Nobody is giving me a gold medal; nobody is kissing the ground I walk on. I feel lost. I don’t feel a part of the group at all. Everybody around me is happy. Hakuna Matata. Except for me.
I am sitting at the table not knowing what to say. Where is the person with the big smile? The one with the jokes? I realize I am the one who doesn’t have anything fun to say.
I leave the happy people behind me for a bit and start walking on the beach. I look at the waves in the endless ocean. I see a little blue boat. It seems lost. Going from right to left. Should I warn somebody? Maybe they are in trouble?
Then I look closer. There are a bunch of young people on it. Fishing. They are not lost. They are in the moment. Enjoying themselves. The boat is floating on the waves. It does not try to fight them; it simply rides the waves instead.
“Let it go,” I think to myself. It’s ok to not know for a while; not to be the fun one. It’s ok not to be ok for a bit. Let the waves take you where you are going. Be in the moment. It will be all right.
Two happy Masai men walk up to me showing their merchandise. “Jumbo,” they shout. “Hakuna Matata.” Yes, exactly. Hakuna Matata.
Until next time!
– Ceren Taygun
Lovely piece of writing Ceren. I can so feel every emotion you’re feeling. We are ready to pack up too and will be leaving at the end of June. Our 17 year old has to start Gr12 in a different country and my heart is broken for her having to leave her friends behind – again!! This will be move number 9 for us in 20 years. It doesn’t seem to get any easier.