Day 1096 of Captivity....Life as an Expat

On January 19th 2011 I stepped off a plane at OR Tambo airport with my husband, my 2 boys aged 11 and 15 and 9 suitcases, an Xbox, 3 laptops, stereo and a ton of cables split amongst our hand luggage.

It was our first visit to South Africa.

So much has gone on in the last 3 years.

Last week I returned to OR Tambo airport, with 3 cases, an Xbox, 2 laptops and a ton of cables split between the hand luggage, except this time I wasn't flying, I was there to say goodbye to the boys as they returned to live in the UK. The youngest returning to boarding school where he's been since August 2013 and the eldest to join the armed forces.

I've learnt so much, had amazing experiences, experienced a different culture, travelled to places I'd never even dreamed of, acquired a cat and a dog, made some fantastic friends, had endless visitors to spend quality time with and some amazing (voluntary) work opportunities. 

Apart from my husband, a dog and a cat, our entire family is in the UK. 5 kids, 2 mums, 1 dad, 2 sisters and a wide selection of nephews, nieces and 2 great nephews.

So probably time we went back then, but I'm more scared now of moving than I am of staying here so far away.

It has been a long and a hard journey. 

It has changed me. I lost my identity, for the first time I found myself without friends, without a support network.

I no longer had the junior playground to stand in to meet people. I no longer had a job in which I could network. I had no one who knew how things worked, no one who understood what I was going through ,but I was determined to make a go of it.

Now I don't want to go home. I'm not sure where home is any more. The family are spread out around the UK, from Bath to Leeds. I'm scared to start over again, to make new friends, to find new work opportunities, to leave this wonderful and beautiful country. 

I arrived in South Africa full of anticipation, I expected nothing and knew even less. I'm comfortable now, I know how things work, I understand the culture. I love this place. I don't think I ever want to leave, despite the painful distance between me and my family.

Can a house cause depression?

I don’t know if it’s because I’m making friends now or diving in head first with volunteer work or the fact after 19 months life has some normality to it, but I seriously believe that the last house had a negative vibe which caused depression.
The first house was luxurious, think Kevin McCloud and Grand Design, but it wasn’t a home, it was cold, open planned, no privacy or space for one self. It was an entertainers home, designed for a team of domestic staff to cook, clean, tidy, manage. It wasn’t a house for us; one we could make a home.
We were new to the country, no friends, not used to having staff even if it costs a pittance to employ them.

As you know we’ve had no assistance from Hubbies Company for the move to SA, then into a rental house, then a further move 2 months ago. We didn’t know what to expect other than high crime and extreme poverty and while it does exist, the country is so very different. Different in every way imaginable, different from my comfort zone.
So feeling at home has been very important to me, as a family. We need a secure base to work from, as long as we have a home to come back to at the end of the day then everything will be ok.

The new house feels like home, it has rooms, where we can cut ourselves off from the rest of the family or all be together in the same area, doing different things. There is direct access to the outside without having to go down 2 flights of stairs, every room is usable for whatever we want it to be, the furniture fits, its flows with the house, with our needs.
We have a lease on our new home for a year with an option to renew for another, if I get my way, this will be our home for the foreseeable future.

Differences between the UK and SA

In the UK I have to remember to get out the car at the petrol station and put my own fuel in the car.
In South Africa they do it for me

In the UK I have to pack my own bags at the checkout.
In South Africa they do it for me.

In the UK I have to put money in the meter in a car park and put a sticker in my window.
In South Africa, I take a ticket from the machine, through the window, pay as I return to the car and when I leave the car park someone takes the ticket off me to put into the exit machine.

In the UK I have 3 kids, my family and friends.
In South Africa I have my hubby and 2 kids and the cat.

In the UK tomorrow there will be some sad faces.
In South Africa tomorrow there will be some happy faces.