In it, I discussed how easy it is to only show one side of expat life to our friends and family back home – I used Facebook as an example because that is mostly how I communicate with people I know, but this should also include Instagram, Pinterest, blogging etc. To quote myself:

Over the past few years, as Facebook has evolved, I have watched the lives of several expat friends as they moved from one country to another, settled in, started work or got the children off to school. I have seen photos of beaches and parties, cocktails and safaris….why do expats tend to focus so much on the “good-side” of life? Is it because we’re trying to prove to our friends that the life we’re living is actually as good as everyone expects it to be? Are we trying to prove it to ourselves?

Now, as I settle into our new life in South Africa, that post is coming back to haunt me a bit. Because guess what I have put up on my FB site? Ok, not beaches because we live about three million miles from the sea. But lots of posts about the weather (hot and sunny), the wildlife (impressive) and the wine (delicious and deliciously cheap). So for now, my friends back home basically think I am lying around in the sun, drunk on red wine and watching the elephants go by.

Any excuse for another cute mum-and-baby elephant pic….

Which of course I am not.

Life is a lot more boring than my posts would have you think. There is a lot of dealing with tantrums, getting up too early, emptying the dishwasher, cursing the school for yet another confusing rule that we don’t understand, answering work emails, checking our bank accounts, trying to work out which drawer houses the vegetable peeler, buying a new vegetable peeler because it turns out no drawer houses it…

But have I posted any of this information? Not really. But why not?

This is a question I have been pondering. Back home I had plenty of updates about some (not all – no-one REALLY wants to know that we have just done our accounts…) of the above. Mostly about things like tantrums. I think it is healthy to share the bad as well as the good side of life, especially when it comes to parenting. It makes it a lot easier to know that you are not the only one whose child is lying on the floor screaming because her sister wouldn’t listen to her when she was trying to explain the rules of the “summer game” (yes that was yesterday. No I don’t know what the summer game is either).

But something stops me here. There are a lot of things I could moan about. At time of writing, I am still waiting for our air freight to turn up (let alone the sea freight) so we’re still living out of the same three suitcases we packed more than a month ago. And quite frankly I am a little fed up of these clothes. My social diary is empty, I can go all day without speaking to another soul bar for the check-out woman (I managed to spin a complement about my top into a five minute conversation yesterday!) and I am struggling to do any exercise at all as I don’t know where and when I can walk or run in this city. We had a fantastic day at a safari park, but I didn’t mention the horrendous traffic accident we passed on the way home with at least one fatality.

So boo hoo me. Although actually not boo-hoo me at all because all of the above is mixed in with the sun and the wine and the trips we have already booked to Cape Town and hot air ballooning and Kruger national park. And yes the girls are dreadfully homesick and we have had a lot of tears and I can’t get Madam M to wear anything but the same three playsuits to school every morning (when they have to leave at 6.45am!!!). But they also have a school with tiny class sizes and amazing facilities which includes a swimming pool and a stand-alone library. And we can afford to take them for pizza every weekend if we like. And our oldest daughter already has two party invites and she’s only been at school for less than a week.

Which brings me back to the updates that I have already posted, those leaving my friends with an overwhelmingly positive view of my life and why it is I don’t balance it out a bit with more of the reality. And I think it is because to do so would somehow seem ungrateful. We have been given this fantastic opportunity, and I realise how amazingly lucky we are. I know that it will also be hard, especially at the beginning, but I suppose I didn’t want to start the moaning until I could at least put it into perspective. Maybe I have gone too far the other way. Perhaps I should do it the other way round – start with the bad side and then add some of the good. But that, I suppose, is not the message I want to convey.

I will post about more mundane things. Gradually, as life here returns to some sense of normality and the excitement of seeing elephants and rhinos in the wild fades slightly, as the price of the wine stops impressing me so much and I start to get blase to the never-ending sunshine, then I am sure my posts will become more and more blah. Just like they used to be. I probably will still post when we do interesting trips, or something unusual happens. But eventually my friends and family back home will get a more realistic portrayal of what day-to-day life is like.

I just promise I won’t ever post anything about buying vegetable peelers.

When I followed my husband’s career to Germany with my two small children, I thought my family was complete. So when I found out I was pregnant half way into our third year living overseas, I was in a bit of a shock. Even though this would be my third child, I found myself feeling very much like a first time mommy to be as I had never experienced pre-natal care and childbirth in Germany.

Choosing an OB/GYN:
One of the first things I had to do was find an OB/GYN. The natural instinct was to ask my other expat friends for referrals and to check on some of the local Facebook and internet forums I belonged to. As it turned out, my neighbor was an American who had 6 month old twins born there in Munich, so she was a great resource for me and gave me a referral to her OB/GYN who spoke English. But as I went through the process, I discovered a few other things I should have considered and questions that I didn’t think to ask.

1) What kind of medical insurance do you have? Some doctors do not take public insurance or may already be at their maximum for publicly insured patients. If you are privately insured, did you buy the right kind of insurance to cover pre-natal care and delivery? Thankfully for me, the doctor my friend referred me too took the public insurance that we were on and it covered quite a bit.

2) Do you want a provider that does both pre-natal and delivery or would you rather have a pre-natal specialist and then the hospital’s delivery specialists? Many doctors in Germany chose to specialize in one aspect or another, though you can find doctors that do both pre-natal care and delivery. If you want to give birth in a specific hospital, you may have to have a certain doctor for your pre-natal care that is attached to that hospital. Or on the other hand, if you choose a doctor that does both, you may be limited to only being able to go to their hospital. I didn’t even realize that my provider wouldn’t be the one delivering my baby until I was 6 months pregnant. That added the stress of having to figure out if I would be able to understand the hospital staff doctors in the delivery room.

3) How comfortable are you in the language of your host country? While many doctors are able to speak adequate English, their office staff may have a very limited English. You will have to decide if you can deal with scheduling appointments, potential insurance issues, and general instructions for blood tests, weigh ins, etc. in German.

What to Expect During Appointments

The thing I loved most about my pre-natal care, and really about any care I received from other doctors in Germany, is how much the doctor does themselves. When I went in with a thyroid concern at my general practitioner’s office, the doctor decided on the spot that I should have an ultrasound and escorted me to the room next door where she performed the ultrasound herself, right there, and then discussed what she saw. There was no extra appointment needed, no films from a tech that the doctor then had to interpret and potentially decide wasn’t done at the right angle and needed to be done again.

The same applied to my pre-natal doctor. Once the weigh-ins or occasional blood tests were done by the nurses, I sat in the doctor’s formal office for any discussion, then went into a separate exam room for any ultrasounds or heart beat check-ups, all under the care of the actual doctor. Once your appointment started you felt like you had the full attention of your doctor, unlike my U.S. experience where you sat in an exam room the whole time while the doctors went from room to room checking on other patients and sending nurses in here and there to give you other information.

At the end of each appointment, all of your history and current stats are recorded in your “Mutter Pass.” This is a booklet that contains your medical history relating to your pregnancy that you carry around at all times. If you are in a car accident or taken to another doctor for any reason, having the “Mutter Pass” lets that new physician know exactly what is going on with your pregnancy, and better yet, if you are in the early stages, it alerts them to the fact that you are pregnant in case you are unconscious.

Public Attitudes toward Expectant Mothers
In general, I had very positive experiences with people out and about in daily life while I was pregnant. Most people gave up their seat for me on the bus for me or held open a door. You’ll also benefit from being waved to the front of a long line in public buildings and bathrooms. But what most people might not be prepared for is how Germans tend to consider children “community property.” By that I mean the whole “it takes a village” approach is alive and well in Germany and people, especially the elderly who you encounter at the supermarket or on the bus, have no problems asking you about how you plan to raise or feed your child. I had at least had the exposure to the breastfeeding questions when I moved to Germany with a 2 month old. So I wasn’t as surprised when a man on the bus would notice my big belly and ask me if I planned to breastfeed my child! Be prepared for a slew of advice from strangers before and after your delivery.

Choosing a Hospital
In my whole pregnancy, the one area that probably caused me the most stress was choosing and going to the hospital where I would give birth. Even before I was pregnant I had read several questions and responses to hospital selection from other expats, and the horror stories that went with them. When I discovered that my doctor wouldn’t be delivering me, I was terrified of the choice.

The most obvious hospital would be the hospital closest to my home, which was literally a 7 minute walk from my front door. The only problem was, I had heard the most negative stories about this particular hospital. On the extreme opposite end of the spectrum were the dream hospitals, the two that everyone raved about yet described getting to be able to give birth there as challenging as getting into an Ivy League school. All of the hospitals offer some sort of information night where you can tour the facilities and ask questions (in some, it is a requirement to attend before you can register).

I had two small children that would still need to be looked after while I gave birth and my proximity to them and the hospital were my most important criteria. Since we didn’t know if any family would be able to come out and be there with us when the time actually arrived, I wanted some place nearby so that my husband could go easily between my boys and the hospital if my neighbors had to watch them. I took comfort in the fact that another neighbor told me she gave birth at the same hospital, Rechts der Isar, and had a wonderful experience. This particular hospital also had a neonatal unit, something not all hospitals had in Munich. So, if something were to go wrong with the baby, I knew that she wouldn’t have to be transported to another facility away from me.

One thing that most of the hospitals had in common though, was the multi-person recovery rooms. After you have your precious angel in your arms and are taken away to the recovery wing, you may find yourself sharing a room with at least one other mother and baby and in some cases, up to four other women! So for someone who previously gave birth twice in the U.S. in a private hospital room where I labored, gave birth and recovered all in the same room with my own private bathroom, this concept did not appeal to me at all! Certain hospitals have a few private rooms that are usually reserved for those new mothers with the right kind of private insurance. It’s also important to note that the average hospital stay for a normal delivery in Germany is 3 days. I could not even imagine sharing a room with a bunch of moms and their newborns, AND their visitors all hours of the day for 3 days. The way I got around this was exercising the law that only requires mothers to stay in the hospital for 4 hours after giving birth, provided that both the mother and the baby’s health is cleared by the attending doctors. While I had heard that most hospitals will try to dissuade you from doing so, my hospital was very respectful of my choice and did not try to change my mind.

In the end, the hospital was just as good as my experiences with my births in the U.S. and have since calmed the fears of many other mother’s considering it as one of their options. My pregnancy overseas came with a few different stresses than I had experienced in the U.S. but I felt that my overall care and treatment as an expectant mother was superior to my experiences “back home” and in the end, I had a very healthy baby girl.

Heather Jenks is currently a repatriated mom of three young children living back in the United States. She spent three years as an expat spouse in Germany with her two sons that were later joined by a little sister in their final year of living in Germany.  She continues to travel internationally for several weeks a year with her kids and shares her experiences on her blog www.mommyandmeoverseas.com

Have you given birth overseas? Or did you chose to go back to your home country – or even to a third country? I would love to hear your experiences – either in the comments below or if you would like to write a gurst post do get in touch via [email protected].

In other words, it’s a whole lot of things, all rolled up into one big fat ball of emotions. Out of which you tumble at some point – maybe a week after you arrive, maybe a month. Hopefully relatively unscathed – although, from previous experience, you are unlikely to be totally unchanged.

As someone with many years of expat experience behind me, you would think I would be ready for this. But every time is different – there is always something that throws that unexpected curve ball at you. And even when events are expected, even when you know with that growing sense of anticipation what is about to happen, there are still things that are just always going to be difficult. However well prepared you are.

One of these things is not having transport when you very first arrive. This always happens to me – not necessarily because we haven’t thought about it or tried to organise things in advance, but just because it is one of those things that usually does have to wait until at least a few days after you touch down. In our case, my husband has a work car and he has taken a few days away from the office to look after us – so we didn’t want the expense of a hire car until we absolutely needed it. In the meantime, we are busily looking for a permanent family car – although I appreciate this will take a bit longer.

So not a bad situation but still I don’t have a car, I would feel very nervous driving his HUGE work car and I am having to rely on him driving me and the children everywhere. We can’t really walk to many places here so we are very restricted to what and where we can go under our own steam. And even if I did get out on my own (which I will very soon – hopefully this week, possibly even tomorrow…), I don’t have a local bank card, I am still getting used to the coins, I am terrified of getting lost in the wrong part of town….

In other words, I am as helpless as a child.

As well as the lack of car and the lack of bank card, I am also still trying to muddle my way through all the various locks, doors, bolts, keys and alarms on our house. People keep telling me how to alarm or de-alarm the house; which key fits into which lock; when I should open which door and how to work out who is at the gate. It’s so confusing and I just want to shut down and ignore it all, but I know that sooner or later I will have to start taking responsibility again and work all of this out for myself. I can’t rely on my husband  forever – even if he does seem to understand things like locks and gates better than me..

But the one advantage of having done this before is that I know things will get easier – and hopefully pretty quickly. I know that once I start to drive, I will start to get used to it. I will soon begin to understand the rules of the road, which honking horn is serious and which can be ignored, what those signals at roundabouts actually mean. I will be on my own in the house so will need to know how to unlock the doors and I will also be the one off to do the weekly shopping so will have to get to grips with paying for things in this country (after all, how different can it be from paying for things back home?).

I think we are all allowed a little “cocooning” time at the start of our new lives abroad. But I know that this time will be over soon. I will have to take a deep breath and start living here. Ignore my fears about not knowing what to do when I hit someones wing mirror and they start to threaten me, or I accidentally set off the alarm in our house trying to open one of the doors. Sometimes the anticipation of these things is actually a lot worse than the reality – and you find that once you have gotten over the first hurdle (get in that car! visit that supermarket!), you start to wonder what you were so worried about.

For now, though, just for a couple more days, I’m going to enjoy being the child, getting driven around, acting dumb about the house locks and letting someone else do the shopping. It’s actually quite nice not having adult responsibilities! Perhaps I should keep up the scardy cat act for a little while longer…..

Shopping photo courtesy of colorblindPICASO

I am currently sitting in a very bare and frankly quite chilly house, the children are rattling around somewhere while – although it is my birthday (!) – my husband is at work :( . He has promised to be home in time to take us out to lunch though.

Last night we tried to go out for a meal but were thwarted by load shedding – a particular South African problem whereby there isn’t enough electricity to go round so each district has to do without power for a few hours, a couple of times each week. Unbeknownst to us (as many, many things are at this stage), last night was the turn of the area where we live. Just as we were arriving at the place we had chosen to eat all the lights went out. We entered the mall just as everyone else was streaming out. Shops were shut, the restaurants were packing up. Luckily the supermarket must have a generator (as, luckily, do we) and was still open so we bought a ready-cooked chicken and some salad and ate at home. Ah well, you win some, you lose some.

As well as load-shedding, I have also been introduced to one of the other problems in this country – crime and security – by having to fight our way through three layers and about five locks to get on to our patio this morning. And that isn’t counting the “keep” door at the top of our stairs. And not forgetting the electric wire around our house and the guard at the gate to our compound. You definitely feel like you are living in a well-protected fortress.

Other “issues” I have so far encountered though are as much a part of moving somewhere new as moving to South Africa: being woken early in the morning by unusual sounds (in this case the screechy hadada birds  – a type of ibis whose noise isn’t that dissimilar to our seagulls back home); not being able to find anything in the kitchen cupboards (and there not being much to find anyway – we had to wait for the dishwasher to finish this morning before we could have more than one knife between us for our toast); knowing where to buy decent peanut butter that hasn’t got a ton of sugar added; leaky taps and showers, curtains that don’t quite fit in the middle…..

But teething problems, lack of electricity and security issues aside, there are certainly plenty of compensations. The pound is very strong against the rand at the moment, which means that a decent bottle of red wine costs about a third of the price you would pay in the UK. It’s cold at night, but the days are full of bright sunshine and the winter temperatures warmer than back home in England (where rain seems to be the order of the day). We might be living behind bars and barbed wire but every day I am grateful for how well protected we are by seeing how the majority of people have to live in this “beautiful but troubled” (as everyone seems to label it) country.

Yes, overall I think we are going to like it here. It’s been a long journey from the day we first told the girls we were moving to South Africa , I realise we are still in the very early, “honeymoon” stage and there will be many mountains to climb ahead of us. But I am sure in the end it will all be worth it.

Anyone else out there just moved? How are you enjoying your first few days? 

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Being an expat is a very exciting adventure. After all, you’re in a new place, sometimes new culture and there are endless things to discover, both about the place and yourself. However, because you may be far away from home and from your loved ones, it can also be quite a shock and you may find that loneliness starts creeping up on you. This happens to each and every one of us and it is only really temporary as long as you take some steps towards creating your new life. Because we’ve moved around quite a lot, we have come face to face with loneliness a lot too but there does come a time when you learn to embrace it rather than fight against it. We have tried and tested many methods out there and here are some of the best tips for when you are feeling lost and lonely in your new place.

Learn the language
In Munich, we’ve met so many other internationals who bemoan the fact that the locals are rude, cold, unfriendly and never prepared to approach them to make friends. Yet at the same time, they often can’t speak the local language and wonder why they struggle to make friends. Sure, lots of people speak English, but there’s also a lot of people who don’t, and those who can speak English usually prefer to speak their own language if given the opportunity. Not only will knowing the language help you get better acquaintances but also, you will notice many of your daily life struggles will improve when you feel more confident in your language abilities.

It has never been easier to brush up on your language skills, even if you dreaded the thought of French class at school. There are so many (free!) resources out there that can help you out so don’t put it off.

Tip: For beginners, build up your vocab. The grammar is also important but it will click into place once you’ve been more exposed to the language. For now, just learn useful phrases and words and practice them whenever you get the chance.
For intermediate/advanced: find a Tandem language partner with whom not only you can practice the language with but also find out more about the city/culture etc.

Get to know the locals and don’t limit friendship circles to just other internationals
Although many of you will want to find people from your home country or who speak your language to be able to share your expat experiences with, try and hold this off for a bit and focus on getting to know the locals.

If anything, it’s probably better to do this than look just for other international friends. After all, expats come and expats go, and you’re constantly trying to make new friends. Locals on the other hand tend to stick around, and by meeting them, you get to meet their friends and their friends and so on. And not only that, but you get to discover and experience some of the things that really make that place special – things that you most likely won’t find if you just stick with other internationals. You get to make your adopted city a home rather than just some place where you happen to be living.

Tip: Speak to your neighbours. Speak to the shop assistants. Invite your colleagues out for a drink. There are many opportunities just right at your door so make the most of this.

Use online platforms
Whilst we have recommended making friends more with locals, we are members of quite a few international groups online and have made other friends this way too. These groups can actually be quite good when you’re first moving into the area and want to make sure you’re aware of everything you need to do when you arrive. From forums to local events, it gives you a chance to discover all this with a few clicks and of course meet many like-minded people.

However we also have witnessed the bizarre in these kinds of group – there was once the unfortunate, yet pretty funny, story of a girl who gave away hundreds of euros to a Kenyan who portrayed himself as a CIA operative and wondered why she couldn’t get any money back from him, as well as a load of guys who are constantly looking for girlfriends and sending inappropriate messages via the private message service.

Tip: Join Meetup.com, Internations.org and local expat groups on Facebook.

Stay in touch
Whilst you are far from home and trying to settle in to your new life, you may, or should we say, will feel rather lonely at times. This is exactly why you should not lose touch with close ones from back home because they can always lift your spirits and you can de-stress rather well by sharing some funny stories that have happened or just general catching up. Me and Jasper have stayed in constant contact as well as chatting regularly with our family and friends and when you feel you can no longer do any superficial interactions and constantly meeting new people, this is the perfect way to unwind and to help you realise that wherever you may be, you are never more than a phone call away from someone who really knows you.

Tip: Use your smartphone. There are some fantastic apps out there that help you stay in touch for free. Also, plan those Skype dates! A glass of wine and a good internet connection is all you need.

Projects
Last but not least, when you are alone and you feel you have more free time than you know what to do with, it’s the perfect chance for you to get to know yourself and do something you have always wanted to do. Sure, going out and having lots of friends and acquaintances is fun but it’s definitely not the be all and end all. From taking up an online course in the evenings, to maybe even starting a blog or just trying out new recipes, there are many things you can learn and discover. After all, when you are happy and settled somewhere, you tend not to focus so much on other activities but loneliness can actually be a useful thing here and help you discover something new and interesting about yourself and the world.

Tip: Don’t just focus on your day job. Spend 2-3 nights a week doing something totally different. For example, Jasper has been learning Russian at home, Olesya does Freelance work. This time when you are lonely can be ever so productive.

And remember, one of our favourite quotes is “If you do not like where you are, change it. You are not a tree.”

Remember, only you are in charge of your life and your happiness, no-one else can do this for you (unfortunately!).If you feel something is really not working out, then try a different approach. Sometimes, people can’t change where they live, but they can most certainly change their perception of things. Yes, it requires effort and motivation but it is absolutely worth it in the end!

Thanks Olesya and Jasper for some great tips. Have you been an expat alone in a city? What have you done to meet people, and make yourself feel more at home?

Just keep swimming….just keep swimming…

Those of you who know the excellent film Finding Nemo will recognise this quote, but I was reminded of it by fellow expat Eline from the blog Pasta and Patchwork who is also mid-move at the moment. Exchanging tweets about what stage we were at and how stressful it all becomes, this was her excellent advice. Indeed, when you feel like you will drown if you don’t keep kicking forwards, this really does sum up how I am feeling at the moment.

The moving company turned up on Friday morning quarter of an hour earlier than the earliest time they said they would arrive. Our youngest was still at home, waiting for me to take her up to school. I was at least dressed – my husband was still running around in his pj’s doing all those last minute things that you always do leave until the very very last minute because there always seems something more important to do.

So we were all a-fluster from the start and anyone who has been through the nightmare of packing up a home and moving to the other side of the world will know how the rest of the day went.

There was

and then there was

and finally there was

And along the way we found out that we couldn’t take ANY food with us at all so goodbye all our herbs and spices, as well as my baking beans which aren’t beans at all but ceramic balls – yet still didn’t make the cut because they are called beans. And that enormous box of Yourkshire tea bags I bought to keep me going? Not allowed. And the pillows that we were going to throw away got packed but the bedside cabinet that we wanted to take didn’t. We found strange bits and pieces all over the house that somehow got left out like two coasters and the dustpan and brush. And in the end there just wasn’t room for our Dyson cleaner (probably thanks to the pillows) so that’s another thing we’ll have to buy when we arrive at the other end.

Still. Basically we are there now and we’ve left our house and started saying goodbye to friends. We’ve moved into a holiday rental just around the corner from our house for a week, while our place is decorated. Gradually we are all letting go and by the end of the week, when we move on to my parents’ house, I think we will feel ready to leave.

It’s a relief to be past the worst of it. The last few weeks, and last week in particular, has been stressful. But by doing it in small chunks, dividing tasks up and not becoming overwhelmed, and, of course, by just keeping swimming, we’re nearly there.

To all you others out there going through the same thing – good luck!

About me

Me and my wife were born in London and lived there our whole lives. My wife was interviewed for an exciting new role in recruitment in Doha before the summer of 2014 and eventually was given a start date just before Christmas of last year. We both decided it would be a fantastic opportunity for her and there was potential for me to find work (as I am a qualified teacher) and for us to have an adventure and travel before settling down and having children . I decided to come and visit for a month, the week after my wife arrived so I could help her settle in and have some face to face interviews here. It’s transpired that I have ended up staying and have a permanent role starting in September.

First impressions

I am glad that I decided to come over as soon as I did as Doha can be a lonely place. Particularly for women as the area we live in is permanently under construction and populated full of male labourers, although I believe it is safe, it is not the most comfortable environment to be around. We weren’t given a great deal of support in terms of figuring things out, where to go to get various documents signed etc etc.. so I did a lot of the initial exploring. My wife does comment sometimes that if I hadn’t arrived when I did then the first month would have been much more difficult and she would have ventured out far less than she did and potentially even come back home.

Job searching and the VISA system

One of the things you notice about Qatar and perhaps this is true of most of the Middle East, is that it is a male dominated culture. Subtle things such as responses being directed at me rather than my wife who asked the question. In almost all the interviews I had, the first question I was asked was how much money my wife was earning and what package she was on. My situation was bemusing to many employers who could not understand why she would be earning more than I would, despite the fact she is a successful and ambitious private sector employee and I am merely a teacher.

A big issue for me as a trailing spouse was the VISA arrangement. Although I have stayed on a tourist VISA with regular airport runs until now, there were two options for me. Either I could be employed but under the sponsorship of my wife or I could be sponsored by a school. There are advantages and disadvantages to both. Being sponsored by a school means I could be eligible for a housing allowance which would make my salary package more lucrative but most schools would be unwilling to transfer your employment to someone else. So if you end up working at a disreputable school then you are either stuck there or if you do leave, you wouldn’t be eligible to work anywhere else in Qatar for 2 years. Under my wife’s sponsorship I would have the freedom to move but my pay would take a big hit because I wouldn’t be able to get a housing allowance.

Another issue was that if I was to work under my wife’s sponsorship, I could not transfer this sponsorship to my employer for at least 12 months. All of these things considered, I decided to decline the job offers I had been given until I was satisfied I would get a job in a school I would be happy with as it would be far better for us both in the long run.

The perception

In the meantime I have been tutoring and working part time to keep myself busy and doing some voluntary work which has actually led to a full time position for September. I do get teased by friends and my in-laws for being a bum and not working which I can laugh about most of the time but occasionally it does grate as I’ve taken a long term decision and not taken a job that I would be unhappy in. My wife has been very understanding of the situation but she probably takes the piss the most!

Meeting people

The Doha social scene caters very well to women, mothers and children. It is a great place for families and there are lots of support groups and social activities for them. Perhaps it’s a nature of the place that many expat wives are able to look after their children full-time and have more free time to devote to leisure time but I don’t think that’s always the case. For men it’s a different story. As a single guy, Doha can be difficult. Many public places are only open to families on certain days and times. We were fortunate to know a few people who lived here before we came over and they have been fantastic for us and really helped us out. Although we have made lots of acquaintances, we still don’t know that many people outside of our workplaces. I am quite sporty so I have played football with friends of friends and have got chatting to people at our local gym. There are lots of opportunities for this in the city. When I start work in September I hope to join the tennis club and play some golf which I’m sure will be a nice opportunity to meet people. You really can do all sorts here, there are meetup groups happening all the time. Learning Arabic would also be an excellent way to do this and integrate yourself into the culture.

My advice for trailing spouses

• Take your time deciding on a job offer. It’s better to come here, see where you are going to live and settle in first
• Keep yourself active and busy in the meantime, look for volunteering opportunities, networking events and social activities
• Be proud of your wife. An opportunity for her can still be an opportunity for you. It’s worth weighing up your options to see if it makes sense for both of your careers
• Enjoy the experience, if you have kids it’s a safe place for them to grow up and Qatar is a travel hub where you can explore so many places
• Ask me a question. Feel free to come by to my blog and read about my experiences or to ask me anything, I’d be happy to try and help

Thank you Neel – I love your advice (especially to be proud of your wife :) ). You can read more about Neel’s adventures in Qatar at his website Dohabitation. And if you too are a male trailing spouse please let me know – I contribute to a number of expat blogging link-ups and twitter chats and it would be great to see more of the guys there!

When it was suggested to me by a mutual friend that Clara Wiggins might appreciate it if I wrote a guest post for her website – the word blog sounds to me like the song of a depressed frog – of course I leapt to it like a, well like a non-depressed frog taking aim at nearby fly. I’m a writer, I’m an expatriate, and in writing about my own experience I get to write the word I a lot. Including me and my and I’m, there’s a dozen already just in this opening paragraph. We are our own favourite subjects after all. Oh and there’s no denying that. As both a book reviewer and an editor/writing coach, If I (thirteen) had a dollar for every book I’ve (fourteen) read whose story began with a lonely, misunderstood writer who suddenly has a buxom Russian spy come bursting through his door bearing secret passions and a pizza with double cheese I’d (fifteen) be able to settle the national debt of Greece.

I probably should get some pencil-sharpening necessary exposition out of the way while I decide what would be the most interesting thing to discuss with you (1).  A half century ago a drunken stork got lost on its way, said ‘oh the hell with it’ and dropped its load smack in the middle of Canada. Thus I was born and I haven’t had a good word to say about large birds ever since. Half a century later I finally ended up where I was supposed to be in the first place. I packed three suitcases, bribed my border collie Stella into climbing inside a pet carrier and three flights and a limo jump between LaGuardia and Newark later, I was in Ireland. Despite the best efforts of the Irish government, I’m bloody well staying. So there.

Now of course I’m faced with a choice as to how to best fill the rest of this space. There are three definite options here:

The Romantic Allure of Ireland

Oh it definitely has all that allure in spades and I knew it from the first time I saw the little moss-covered island from the air when, at age 10, I was taken here for a summer tour by my mother. That was when I made up my mind to move here, although it did take a while to put the plan into action. And you think you have writer’s block! Anyway, writing about that would lead to sentences like this:

I no longer write, but record what I hear as I listen without listening to the voices whispered in coastal winds through the hawthorn tree in my back garden.

‘Ere now, ain’t that all grand like? But that is an option.

Humorous Observations

Now this is ever so popular at all the best dinner parties and is guaranteed to charm the pants off the guests, which would certainly be my specific intent if the guests were vivacious and single. Actually, never mind the single part. I’ve had affairs with married women and leaving the sinning aspect aside, you get to have all the fun and still can lay about alone on weekend afternoons in a robe and bare feet watching the football (2). Yes, there are lots of liquored laffs to be had in telling tales of learning to live in Ireland, such as:

Having decided to learn the Irish language, I downloaded a series of lessons produced by Ireland’s national broadcaster, RTE. The very first lesson – I swear I am not making this up – implied that the three essential phrases to know are: The weather is terrible, Can I get you a cup of tea? and, Isn’t this the employment office?

Ho ho!

Serious Words of Advice

Oh gawd, you don’t really want to know about taxation policy and registering for National Health benefits do you? If that’s what you’ve come to me for, not only are you barking up the wrong tree you’d best be seeking out the National Health services in your own country to find treatment for this odd habit of yours of barking up trees. Well, I suppose if that’s what you’re after I had best toss a bone your way (3). Besides, to omit doing so would break the rhythm of this piece that is bound to be nominated for a myriad of Webby Awards if I can just find the link to place it in nomination. Here is your sample sentence of advice:

In seeking accurate assistance prior to emigrating to Ireland, the best and most accurate information is not likely to come from a clerk in the Irish Embassy in Ottawa whose accent has more of a distinct lilt of Delhi than Derry.

No no, that one’s true. My initial immigration was completely mucked up by said clerk in said Embassy which meant that I had to decamp to England for ten months while waiting for a UK passport to be delivered so that I, as a resident of the EU (4) could freely and legally return to the Republic of Ireland.

As you may have guessed, this post is nearly done and that’s why they all call me Clever Clogs (5). However I do have to say at least one serious thing about Ireland because I love it so. Somewhere in this often rotten world there is a place that meets your needs, suits your pace and matches your own energies and dreams perfectly. That is something I truly believe from the bottom of my heart. Just as migratory birds have an inner compass drawn to some mysterious energy pole that leads them safely to Capistrano or North Africa every autumn, so too is there that needle within you that tries to nudge you where you are meant to live. If you are very, very very lucky that place is where you live now. And if not, I truly hope you find it soon.

NOTES

1. In other words, this paragraph is dull as hell and you’re welcome to skip it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you Sparky.

2. What? You think I called this piece The Charms of Indiscretion just because I liked the sound of the words?

3. Seriously, why do you think you’re a dog? Your mother’s concerned and people are starting to talk.

4. At least until David Cameron bollixes up the EU Referendum in 2017.

5. No one has ever called me Clever Clogs.

Whilst you’re there, have a look at (listen to) some of the other stories on the website. The podcasts are quite long, but the one I listened to (about another woman who had lived in Pakistan and now lives in Botswana) was fascinating! There’s another on there about a woman who lives in Antartica and was kidnapped as a child which I am waiting to have the time to listen to! Makes my life sound very boring…..

I would thoroughly recommend this experience to all other expats – she is looking for more victims volunteers, so give her a shout via her website if you are interested!

In the meantime, I’m gearing up for another interview tomorrow night. This one will be via Skype and will actually be a video so no pyjamas! Yikes!