Expat life in South Africa and Dubai

I get asked all the time 'which do you prefer? South Africa or Dubai?'

I can't answer that question in the same way that visitors do, they say Dubai is much better. They mean safer, but then when we people come and stay with us they don't actually go off and do their own thing anyway, so it makes no difference where they are visiting us as I'm still the bloody unpaid tour guide.

I don't have a preference to either country in terms of the actual move, opening bank accounts, working out how things are done, dealing with different languages and cultures. It's unknown, therefore it's difficult, complicated and expensive.

There are 3 advantages that Dubai has over South Africa in regards to a relocation is that in Dubai:

1) It's consistent and the same rules apply to all, unlike South Africa which would depend on a) who you spoke to and b) what mood they were in, as that would depend on the information you were asked for on that particular visit.

2) I was able to go out on my own the first day and use public transport and walk around freely

3) I was able to get a SIM card, by myself, just by showing my entry visa stamp

The things that are the same are:

1) The company wouldn't deal with me
2) The relocation firm disappeared as soon as there were issues with the house, the container and my visa.
3) The medical aid is complicated, no one helps you find a doctor, dentist or even tells you what the emergency number is and where the nearest hospital is.
4) I'm lonely and it's taking a long time to build friendships and I have no emergency network
5) I'm depressed
6) I have no identity

In South Africa I had to deal with the children leaving home and for the first time in 22 years not being a mum, I am however grateful that with the move to Dubai I haven't had to deal with sorting schools out.

I spent the 1st year in South Africa settling the kids into their new lives, trying to find my niche, a job, a volunteer placement and numerous attempts to finish my studies.
I then spent 2 years enjoying life, made friends, had a network, had volunteer work, socialised, went on safaris, camping trips, got a cat and a dog, dealt with emergencies back in the UK and in South Africa camped in a township, raised funds, worked hard and partied harder and
The 4th and final year was spent waiting for a decision to be made by hubby's company as to whether or not we'd move to Dubai. We were told I could work there, something I was also told that on the move to South Africa, we were told things would be different this time, they haven't been. I knew I'd lose my identity again, that I'd have to make new friends and I thought it would be easier this time because a) I knew what to expect and b) I'd be working, but it's been harder than I expected, taken longer than I'd hoped.

I'm on my own for the next few weeks, hubby is back for 2 nights next week before he goes to the States and the 20 year old is stopping over for 3 nights on his way back from South Africa to the UK the following week, but for me I'm almost housebound due to the heat and a painful back and two doses of severe food poisoning so apart from physio, walks with the dog when the sun goes down, I'm lying on the bed watching you tube with the air con on, bored, lonely and depressed knowing how hard the rest of this year is going to be to reinvent my identity and find something to do with my time that's worthwhile and makes me feel valued, knowing this time, that at some point, it will all stop, we'll be packing up, saying our goodbyes and starting all over again somewhere else.

I am depressed

From the moment you are born your identity is changing, from self imposed identity from your parents, their beliefs, place of birth, how they raise they, through to school, social groups, peers, incidents both positive and negative. What career path you take, who you marry, having children, death, and divorce. It’s all about identity which in turn provides self worth.
As a former psychology student I know all about identity. I’ve written assignments on it after studying for hours. Yet I’ve still managed to lose mine and with it I have become depressed. I wasn’t depressed when I had my children, or when I moved, or married or divorced, I saw all that as a new chapter in my life. Throughout life my identity has changed from being someone’s child, student, mother, and wife. I’ll never stop being someone’s child or someone’s mother, but I know that relationship will change. One day my parents won’t be alive anymore, one day my children will leave home, I may go into old age alone and not be someone’s wife anymore and I’ve always been aware that this will happen but I would by then have other things that make me, me.
Employment, study, where I live, friends, they’d still be there, maybe different from what I started out with, but in essence the same things brought around by gradual changes to my life, some internal (the desire to learn more) some external (moving, changing jobs) But now those things have been taken from me and I’m a little bit lost.
Maybe that sounds a little harsh ‘Taken from me’ I chose to support my husband, uproot my family, leave my parents and adult children and friends behind in the UK while we restarted a new life in South Africa. But I didn’t choose to lose everything, employment, friends, and relationships with family. I naively thought it would all come with me, different but still there. It’s the law here that prevents me from working, continuing with my degree. I never realised how hard it was to make friends when you don’t have a work place or a school play ground to hang round in. That’s how I’d always done things, I’d progressed from one thing to another, losing people along the way and gaining new friends as I moved on either through work or the children’s school or my own education. Some of the acquaintances I had in the UK have now become firm friends; others have drifted by the way side. They never realised how much I needed their support, clung onto contact with them. Because they’d all been a part of whom I was and without them, without employment and education I had nothing. I lost my identity.
At this point I hear you sigh ‘melodramatic, got an easy life, sun, pool, no need to work, what on earth has she got to complain about?’ Some days I can’t physically get out of bed, Hubby takes the kids to school and at 1.30pm I drag myself out of bed, half dress to collect the kids from school, other days I’m manic, up at 3.30am housework, cooking, baking, shopping, coffee, volunteer work, getting things done, staying up till midnight, crying with tiredness, sewing, reading, writing letters, blogging, tweeting. At the moment I’m going through the ‘eating everything in the house’ stage. I’ve put on 6 kilos, that’s nearly a stone in weight. I’m still going to the gym daily and swimming, but the length of time I spend in the pool is less and less, it’s more about routine than keeping fit. I have lists, that all I seem to do is rewrite, reorder whilst drinking coke and eating sweets. I’ve been on anti depressants, I’ve told people what’s going on, but I’ve never described how I feel. I fell lost, empty, lonely and sad.
The medication helps me deal with these issues but it doesn’t take away those feelings. Lots of people including hubby say ‘go home, return to the UK’ I don’t want to, I don’t give a stuff if you think it’s because I don’t want to be a failure, It’s because I want to and know that I will succeed, that we will succeed, that this move will have been worth it for all of us, not just hubbies career or the children’s education but for the life experience we have gained from being here, the opportunities that have arisen. I know that by talking openly about depression will help me, will help others and maybe my experiences can one day be used to a greater good.
Right now I just sound ungrateful, miserable, depressing. I’m lucky, to have these opportunities, to have my health, that my children are healthy and achieving both here and back in the UK, but the reality is I’m none of the above by choice. I am depressed, bare with me.
It took me 39 years to be who I was, to form an identity. So far it’s been 2 years of grieving for what I’ve lost, who I’ve become, because the problem is after two years I just haven’t become anyone else yet. It takes time to create a new identity, I need a few more experiences, meet new people, develop existing friendships and find a purpose to my life other than that of a daughter, wife and mother.