You chose it, you wanted it, and most of the time, you love it.
Don't complain.
The cornflakes that are poured into a bowl, the bread that pops from a toaster, the shopping cart and the franchise store - it's all the same. Grande latte, quarter pounder, savings or credit, would you like fries with that?
But there are days where the differences are hard to comprehend.
It moves beyond the yearning for a farmers market, a grassy hill, the sound of a train and being able to walk on a footpath and hear the multiple sounds of suburbia. Birds, dogs, and postal delivery vans are somehow silenced.
The life that comes with radio banter and television gossip is gone, replaced with podcasts and downloads. I plan my news, my music and movies. My own discoveries come in reviews and word searches rather than gifts "here's a new one from..."
I watched a maid in a uniform walking three steps behind two Abaya wearing teenage girls, she was carrying their shopping bags while they texted. My smile in her direction was pathetic, puppy eyed and useless - she returned it with a look of exhaustion and sadness. I saw a friend rush back to her car to secure a cardigan "I better put this on, even though it's 40 degrees - don't want to upset anyone". A man asked to wash my car for the total of 5 Australian dollars.
Where have you come from for this to be a better option?
"So how's Qatar?" my Aunt asked on a recent trip to Australia. She stands behind forty other How's Qatars that have come my way in the past week.
"It's good!" my reply is chirpy and short. I don't want to have to reel the list off again.
"You're very good at that. You're very good at "it's good!"
It's always the first question. How is it? You want to push it aside, get on with the real stuff. A visit is limited and you can't go through the same conversation again.
The list or reasons roll off your tongue with ease, you don't bother to switch the order; the school is great, we've made great friends, the city is alive with opportunity, and G loves his job.
The macro. The predictable. Do you want fries with that answer?
How could I expect you to understand the micro when I don't understand it myself.
I love the development, I hate the development. I love the culture, I don't understand the culture. I love the opportunity, I worry about the opportunists. I hate the shopping malls, I continue to go to shopping malls for groceries each week.
I'm here to learn, I'm trying to work it out, I want to know more.
I chose it, I wanted it, and most of the time, I love it.




That's the struggle of being an ex-pat to a T - on some levels it can be great whilst you struggle to make sense of how the whole thing hangs together and aren't quite sure you think the wider elements work
ReplyDeleteGreat post - so how I feel in many places I've been but I didn't know it until you wrote it ;-)
ReplyDeletewas just reading another blog today where the useless response was given "go back if you don't like it". Half of a person can't go back, eh?
ReplyDeleteThat is the perfect description for that response - useless! I hear it over and over again as if it's the most simple thing in the world. But of course it's not. Not at all.
DeleteGreat post Kirsty!
I'm still trying to think of a spunky response to that. Marjorie in Qatar is an old blog (that is no longer active) but she had a go at responding to that. It wasn't short and sweet though. Check out the comments section on this post http://qatar.livejournal.com/353697.html#comments
DeleteI cannot begin to tell you how many of those conversations I have had since we returned home. I try to limit my response, but sometimes find myself continuing to try to explain - often met with a glazed look or total incomprehension. Now and again I get a 'tell me more'. Then I feel like saying 'where do I begin . . .'
ReplyDeleteI feel like that and I've been an expat in the same place for 22 years. Problem in the USA is that if you say anything negative people take it very personally; if they don't know you (like in a comment box or a forum) they can get very nasty and yes, tell you to go home.
ReplyDeleteKirsty, this is exactly I feel.
ReplyDeleteVani
And your aunt is a very kind (or wise, or both) woman. I've had some really not so kind replies to my 'it's good's. 'Don't worry, the tears will come' is one of them.
ReplyDeleteOh yes. I live in Finland, not Qatar, but my thoughts and feelings are the same.
ReplyDelete