Confessions of an Expat's Wife

from one country to another,thousands of miles earned, different languages to get by with, cultures and expectations to live with plus millons of photos taken to tell the adventures of my life

I am a woman. I am entitled to PMS (Pre-Menstrual Syndrome). This means, I can get ticked off easily with small things and eat tons of potato chips the whole time.

This is how PMS gets into me. I hate it. The other night, Husband and I had an argument over how hollandaise sauce should be made and how the potatoes for dinner should be cut. He called me up early in the day to tell me that he will be cooking dinner that night. It was going to be some fresh Turbot (Halibut) fish with hollandaise sauce and roasted potatoes on the side.

When he got home, he said he was going to play football first at 7:30pm with the guys and will cook when he gets back. I offered to do the pre-prep for dinner and told him I will semi-boil the potatoes and chop the garlic (which I detest!) so it would be easier to cook. He asked if I was also going to make the hollandaise sauce. I said I knew how to make the sauce from my college years but I haven't done it in the loooongest time. He said it was ok and he will do it when he comes back.

I decided to surprise him and make a mock hollandaise sauce while doing the rest of the pre-prep. It wasn't anything but I thought it would be a pleasant surprise. He got back late - around 9:30pm and I was already starving. The waiting made me more anxious and annoyed. To top it all, when he hugged me and gave me a kiss, he was smelling like how athletes smell after a game---> really bad!

He went to the kitchen and asked me why the potatoes are cut. I told him, I was going to boil them and he said it was ok. Of course I cut them in halves to make it easier to boil. Apparently he had something else in his mind but he failed to mention this to me before he left for the game. Then he saw the sauce and asked me what was it and tasted it. He gave this blank face and said it didn't taste anything.

This just ticked me off big time. I told him to just throw the sauce away and I marched out of the kitchen and took a long shower. I totally ignored him the whole night until he got mad. Then, we had the silent war in the living room.

Who would have thought that I would make such a big deal and drama over potatoes and sauce?

We ended up not cooking, not eating dinner and miserable. Thanks to PMS.

The past two weeks has been a blah to me. I was trying to be philosophical over things that I do not really need to worry about. I was asking myself beauty pageant type questions in the line of "what is the essence of being a woman ( but I couldn't come up with a smart Sushmita Sen-like answer)." I was thinking and worrying too much about trivial things. I guess, that's the result of having a lot of extra time to spare.

Funny though, I couldn't really remember how my day went. Time goes by so fast it becomes scary. I read tons of blogs and all sorts of crap in the internet and the next thing I know, three hours just went by. The thing is, when I go out for a walk,time seems to go slow.

I recently declined an invitation to go out for a drink with a group of people since I had my monthly bookclub meeting. My friend ( the one who invited me) remarked : " C'mon, there are more productive ways to spend your time than be in a bookclub." I honestly didn't know what to say and just gave out a weak laugh. Am I becoming a bore just because I attend a bookclub meeting? Is it better to party, consume barrels of beer, talk nonsense and get a bad hangover the next day?

I'm in need of a little bit of intellectual stimulation. It gets too easy and boring to do the same things over and over. That is why, when I watched my friend's dance lessons of Tango, Argentinian version, I wanted to sign up. I never took dancing classes. I firmly believe I don't have the body rhythm for it but, I wouldn't mind to take a plunge and see how it goes. I was already asking some of my Turkish girl friends to teach me belly dancing and I find myself struggling with it what more tango and all the fancy footworks.

I will try to convince my other half to go with me to this dance lessons. I have a feeling he will say no. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

By the way, I went to the bookclub and managed to convince my other group of friends to reschedule the night out and go out with them at the same time. I'm such a people-pleaser. I just can't say No!

Spring is here. The weather is just great. Flowers are blooming. Trees are becoming green again. Everything feels more alive. I also noticed that most of my friends over here has been bitten by the lovebug. Everyone's looking for that spring romance.

I went out last Friday, and had a blast observing the bar scene. The single girls scanned the place for good looking guys or potential "prospects" and the single ( or pretending to be single) men did the same thing. The married ones with their other half in tow pretended this was not happening. The not so attractive girls, decided to buy drinks for other guys ( hoping to get them drunk?) and the not so good looking guys decided to be wallpapers and admired their prospects from a distance.

The cultural differences didn't matter, nationality was not a question. The bar scene just looked like a hunting ground. I didn't go with my husband because he had to work but I had a great defense. I just raised my hand and did the show-your-wedding-ring trick and the guys knew.

From one country to another, some things don't change.

A couple of girls wanted a Hen Night for Jo, a good friend of ours. We decided to hit the pub first and on the last stop, stay and sleepover at Jo's place. Of course, someone had to whip up something naughty but nice for Jo. A threesome of the girls hired a male stripper to do the usual dance and you can just imagine the big hullabaloo about it.

The guy, thought it would be sexy to dress as a cowboy complete with a big a$$ shotgun to show off. He even had leather handcuffs on his backpocket if he was required to be an arresting officer.

The show started in Jo's own living room. The lights went out and suddenly, the music started with a loud explosion. The girls started to scream. Lights on, Jo squeezed my arm and pointed at the half naked male stripper in front of us, his torso and back exposed hairy as a monkey. The girls are now screaming louder in disgust but the stripper continued to do his dance. Finally, I had the guts to politely ask him to stop and leave. We’ve seen enough hair for the night!


There you go 197 words in total. Done with the meme. Thanks K!
Now Pia, Meliza, and MrsPartygirl, you're it!

The instructions:
Write a short story of not more than 200 words, based on the following words which can only be used once!

The words:
1. sleepover 2. whip 3. handcuffs 4. leather 5. sexy
6. threesome 7. hairy 8. shotgun 9. squeeze 10. explosion

During our vacation in the Philippines, we went on a weekend to do some surfing. It was the first time that my husband will try this water sport and I was quite excited to see how he will fare. It was also his first taste of "backpacking". Meaning, no car to pick us up or bring us there, no fancy room accomodations with hot shower, and of course, room service is out of the question. There were five of us who went to La Union including two friends of our and my brother. All of us were beginner surfers except for one who has been surfing for more than two years. I actually tried surfing a couple of years back with my friend and liked it. I probably would have continued it if I didn't leave Manila for HK. My first time to surf was an adrenalin rush. There was a certain feel of accomplishment once you get to stand on your long board and just ride the wave. To stand, you need to paddle as fast as you can before the wave wipes you out and just lift your whole body when the wave is about to catch up. It's like competing with the wave who will stand over who.

When we got to La Union, two of my friend's surfer buddies taught my husband and bro the basic of surfing. Just enough for them to be able to stand and (hopefully!) ride the small waves. It was quite a scene to see both of them getting wiped out and my husband's white torso standing out from the tanned surfers around. After a couple of minutes my bro could already ride the small waves with ease and my husband was still struggling. Then little by little, he got to stand on his own. After the "rides", the two boys were exhausted but had fun.In the evening, a bonfire was set by the beach and everyone just gathered around and started the drinking session. Mind you, this was the local surfers' drinking session and the alcohol that we consumed were a bottle of Grand Matador Brandy taken in shots, a bottle of Ginebra San Miguel Gin ( Quatro Kantos in Pinoy slang), and a couple of beers. The chaser was a a shot of sprite or seven up after each drink. We finished drinking by 12 midnight but woke up at 10 am the next day!

One of the ultimate war tactics that generally works is the divide and control method. This is when a leader tries to divide a solid group, break their unity, and little by little gain control over them. Sooner or later, the group will realize that they are already under the same person they were all against to.Either they surrender and quit or they stick it out. I find this method very powerful and I think it works.

When I came back here in Istanbul, I was quite excited to go back to my volunteer work. It was a twice a week ESL teaching class to refugee children. When I got there I was quite disappointed and felt like I was again starting from square one. During my absence, my students didn't have a permanent teacher and forgot most of the English words they know. My main student is a 6-year old girl from Iran who only speaks Turkish and Farsi. Before I left, she was beginning to identify the letters of the English alphabet on her own. Now, she can't even remember half of them. I couldn't blame her or anyone since I know, at home, they do not use English and it doesn't really help that she wasn't going regularly to class.

I was also surprised to find out that most of the teachers I was with were gone. The overall atmosphere was bleak. The students were not responsive and the teachers' moral were down. After a couple of meetings, I find myself becoming uninspired to go and help teach. It's like trying to force yourself to go to a job you don't like.

Recently, I was having a discussion with a friend over here about the divide and control method.
This was her description of how the headmaster runs the school. Apparently, when I was gone, most teachers felt frustrated and tried to talk to the head of the program to ask for directions. Instead of getting encouragement, they got a load of "blame it on somebody" talk. Volunteers here and there were blamed for not doing a good job teaching their students and at the end of the day, they chose to leave. Now, people have to play their cards right to get into the good side of everyone.

Ahhhh politics, can we ever live without them? I thought, I was free of any politics the moment I left the corporate world. I didn't know that even in volunteer work, I would still hear that annoying term. Is it human nature to gossip and play politics everytime they can?

My husband and I never owned a vehicle. We fairly do not need it since both of us do not know how to drive. Moving from one country to another requires us to be mobile and never gave us the need to have a car of our own. Here in Istanbul, husband just walks to work since our flat is connected to the building of his workplace. I, on the other hand, enjoy walking through the parks nearby to get to the nearest Migros or Gloria Jeans.

My first few months here, naturally, I took taxis to get me to not so familiar places. Once I became more brave and adventurous enough, I tried taking the Dolmus which is the Turkish equivalent to the FX taxis back in the Philippines. I also tried taking the tram, the metro (subway trains),ferries, and even the fenicular. Of all modes of transportation, taking a taxi cab is always an experience. You will never know what to expect.

Once I rode a cab here.The driver doesn't speak English and couldn't understand my limited Turkish. I needed to call a friend who could speak the language and explain where I wanted to go. This was also a very common situation when we were living in Hong Kong. I knew the English names of the streets but most of the time, the taxi driver would only know its Cantonese name. If it was somewhere in the outlying parts of HK, it would be best to have someone translate the English names of the streets and buildings to its Chinese counterpart. Here, there are no English names but I always find it hard to say the street names in Turkish.

Another thing I noticed, here, once a driver understood what I said in Turkish, he would suddenly speak the language so fast assuming that I could speak it and understand it fluently. Then he would see the helpless look on my face having no idea what he said and realize I was lost in translation. He would apologize and our conversation will rewind and play in a slower pace until I understand what he means.

Once, I carried on with a Turkish conversation with a driver not really knowing what we were talking about. All I knew was I got to the place where I wanted to go and had a pleasant conversation whilst on journey. Sometimes, it pays to bluff!

*photo swiped from this site.

About Me

Name: duke

Location: Istanbul, Türkiye

A first time mom to baby A living as an expat in Istanbul, Turkey.

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