The Expat Experience and My Relationship-My story

Posted on June 10, 2013 by Expat Bostonians

For a few months now I’ve wanted to start a series of guest posts about how the expat experience can impact a relationship.  With all of my medical and life drama, that ended up on the back burner.  However, today I’m going to kick off the series with the story of how our expat experience has affected my marriage.

Namely the story of how becoming an expat saved my marriage.

Ravi and I first started dating in early 2005.  Our relationship weathered my first back surgery a few months after our wedding.  It weather the loss of a wanted pregnancy.  What almost broke it was the aftermath of Elanor’s birth.  SHE is not to blame.  But the experience of almost losing her and the medical drama we went through as a couple did push us to a point where our marriage very nearly ended.

Elanor’s medical care and the strain it took on us as individuals bled over into our relationship.  We lost what had drawn us together, and who we were apart from our roles as Ellie’s parents.  Sadly, this is not an uncommon phenomenon-parents of very sick/chronically ill kids have a higher divorce rate than average.  Having a child as sick as Ellie was is a huge emotional drain on you as a person.  It impacts all of your relationships-I was fairly absent from my friendships, and I didn’t write very much during that time.  When Ravi got home, I just wanted a break after all the non-stop parenting (which is par for the course, but I can speak from experience now that it’s a bigger strain when you’re trying to be the liaison for a giant team of doctors and trying to decide which of the 10 different courses of action that 10 different doctors advocated for will be the one your family goes with), and to be alone for a while.  It was a lot like when nurses change shifts-we’d update each other but didn’t give care and attention to our relationship.  Date nights were extremely rare.  Ravi getting laid off did not help things, nor did the stress of a job hunt.

Ravi and I eventually sought counseling, as neither of us wanted a divorce.  At the same time, we didn’t know what to do to fix it.

In the midst of all of this came the job offer.  Did we want to take the local job and keep our support system, and hope that things would get better?  Or did we want to take what was likely the riskier move of moving to Asia where we would only have each other?

It is an oversimplification, of course, to say that becoming an expat was the sole savior of my marriage.

But having a helper at first, which enabled us to have a weekly date night helped.  Having to count on each other helped.  Having things that were not Elanor to discuss helped.  Having new personal challenges helped (especially for me–I’d lost almost my full identity other than E’s mom).

Were there aspects of being an expat that were problematic?  Absolutely, especially being here on the same “dependent’s” pass that my child was on-that was a sting to my sense of self.  Ravi works a LOT, which can make connecting a challenge.

The difference is that we have realized that we need to reconnect as a couple.  We have prioritized our date night.  We try to hang out daily, even if it’s just to talk for five minutes (or if we’re really tired, we can watch Daily Show).  We touch base via text or instant messenger.

We waited to feel confident in our relationship before we chose to have Rhiannon.  While the pregnancy was a challenge, we were able to ride it out.  One of the differences between the two children is that we walked into the second pregnancy knowing how crucial it was to stay connected with one another as Crystal and Ravi and not just the girls’ parents.

I think that we would be okay if we moved home in the future.  I don’t think that the US is toxic to our relationship.  I think that we needed to learn how to be a couple again, and that needing to count on each other in such an intense setting as an expat posting was key to us getting there again.

Filed under: Culture Shock, Expat to Expat Advice, Identity, Random Stuff | 4 Comments »

Mt Elizabeth Novena Hospital

Posted on March 15, 2013 by Expat Bostonians

Last week when I injured my back, I headed to Gleneagles Hospital, which is the closest hospital to my condo.  Once it became clear I needed to be admitted, though, I ended up at Mount Elizabeth Novena.  Mt. E Novena is a sister hospital, and was the only one with a private room available.  Strange as this may sound, I loved it and not just because I was very high on painkillers.

Screen Shot 2013-03-15 at 3.31.19 PMsource

Mount Elizabeth Novena (which I’m going to abbreviate to MEN) is a really new hotel-less than a year old.  According to their website, it’s the first new private hospital to be build in 30 years.  It is the first hospital in SG to have only single rooms-206 standard single rooms, 37 deluxe rooms, 8 junior suites, and 3 regal suites (plus some day surgery beds and ICU).  I don’t think I have to sell anyone on why a single room is preferable, if you have a choice in the matter.

MEN’s approach to creating a new hospital is the somewhat cheesy, if accurate, idea of a hospitel–a cross between a hospital and a hotel.  I’d mock it, except that half the time that I mentioned my hospital, I would slip and call it my hotel or my hotel room.

MEN amenities

For one, the bathroom comes stocked with Crabtree and Evelyn “La source” products-shampoo, conditioner, mouthwash, and bodywash.  They also provide you with a hairbrush (a pretty decent one, actually-I forgot mine and my hair was really tangled–it was strong enough to actually get through the tangles, which is better than most hotel furnished ones will), a tooth brush and toothpaste, and a few other amenities I didn’t take advantage of.

The bathroom itself is large.  The shower has bars if you need help standing (as I did a bit) and a seat if that makes showering easier.  Lots of hot water.  They provide you with washcloths, hand towels, and bath sheet sized towels (and there’s a hamper under the sink for them when you’re done).  There are several emergency pull strings in case of an accident or need for help.

My room was very large.  There was the bed, a very large sofa, which if you removed the back cushions became a proper bed.  There was a chair by the couch.  One wall had a counter running the length of it which also served as a desk (with a chair) as well as counter space for your stuff.  There was a large wall mounted flat screen tv (which in theory also had internet connections-I never turned it on, preferring my laptop).  The room had a safe (which I didn’t use, but noted).

The two nicest parts, I thought, was that there was a built in fridge behind a door (it’s actually a minibar, but you can take out their stuff and put your own stuff in, which I did), and the internet speed.  They have extremely fast wi-fi, which was awesome.  It was actually fast enough that I was able to download some movies and tv off iTunes to keep occupied.  My only issue with it was that it occasionally just stops and you have to reconnect, which only really became a hassle when I was trying to skype (it would shut off and I’d lose the connection).

MEN hallway

The doors to the room are soundproofed so you don’t get ambient noise.  As most people kept their doors closed, it also made walking through the halls (part of my back rehab plan) a quiet and pleasant experience.

In terms of service-they have a wide menu but I didn’t want any part of anything on it.  Although there are western options, they are more European than American.  There’s a cafeteria, which Ravi told me was more of the same kind of fail (no sandwich bar, no pizza bar, etc).  Apart from that, there’s only a Starbucks in the hospital.  Luckily it’s across the street from Novena Square (which connects to Velocity and is a quick walk from United Square) and Ravi kept me in American food between delivering food to me and supply groceries from the Cold Storage at United Square.

They also have “butlers” who were sweet enough to get the crazy ang moh pitchers of ice water instead of the “healthier” warm water that is standard.  They also delivered a Straits Times Daily.  The ladies who cleaned the rooms were also all sweet-there were two ladies who did our floor and I chatted with them about their kids and mine (who were of similar age).

MEN nurses

The nurses were also a bunch of sweethearts.  They were quick to respond to a call, but tried not to impose too much, allowing patients their privacy.  Once they met my girls, they asked after them and made a point to say hello when my own little Nurse Ellie took me for my walk through the halls (sometimes accompanies by the mini-nurse Rhiannon and their Dad).  They were quick to dispense pain meds when I needed them, and let me delay the same pain meds as I began to heal (rather than insisting they stick to a strict schedule with them).

The only real complaint I had is that the billing department didn’t really seem to have their act together when it came to contacting my insurance.  We were told there were delays in getting reports, and then they needed my signature, but didn’t realize it, and so forth.  I was on the phone back and forth with my insurance agency a LOT trying to figure out what they needed so that they could send the promise of payment.  Further, the billing department didn’t seem to have an accurate understanding of my diagnosis and the estimate they gave Ravi was more than double what my cost actually was.  But things seemed to be settled by the time I left, although I still need to check with our insurance company to make sure that everything was properly submitted and paid for.

Overall, I’d say that my stay was as pleasant as it could be.  Obviously, I was in a lot of pain, and I wish I hadn’t had to be hospitalized at all.  I’m going to have an ongoing relationship with the hospital as I’m there 3x a week for physical therapy right now, and I’ll be following up with the orthopedic doctor regarding treatment for my back as the healing process begins.

I’m not in constant pain anymore, although my range of motion is limited and my stamina sucks.  I can walk, but I can’t pick up stuff–even my purse (having lightened it and everything) is a bit heavy at times.  I’m not allowed to pick up either girl, even just to pick up Rhi to change her diaper.  Ellie has been a huge help-I can’t really bend down and look for stuff, so E has gotten my shoes, retrieved stuff out of the fridge and so forth for me  My in-laws arrived yesterday and will be here as long as we need them, which is a huge relief.

It’s difficult and frustrating to be so limited, but I know from experience that it is crucial I take care of my back.  I had back surgery in 06, and the disc that is damaged now is the disc directly above it-both are now totally degenerated.  I know that if I push too hard too fast I’ll just end up right back in the hospital, and if I don’t take my recovery seriously I’ll likely further damage my back as well.  So I am going slow and steady and following my doctor and pt’s advice.

At some point I’ll talk about how insurance here differs from the process of insurance and such in the US, but I’ve been thinking a lot about my assimilation series and I want to get back to that for now.

Filed under: Acts of Supreme Clumsiness, Expat to Expat Advice, general places, medical, Random Stuff, Singapore | 1 Comment »

Assimilation-The parent who doesn’t speak the language

Posted on March 5, 2013 by Expat Bostonians

As a teacher in urban Boston, I was not a stranger to parents who did not speak English.  Our school had a few people who could translate for parent/teacher conferences and I think some of the notices went out in English and Spanish (the dominant second language in all three schools I was associated with).

I thought “it must be really frustrating to have to rely on your child to translate for you, or that it must be really hard to not be able to help your child with their homework.”  I don’t know that I ever thought much about what it really must be like to be that parent.  The truth is that even if I did think about it, I couldn’t “get” it.  I don’t think it’s possible to truly be in that parent’s shoes until you actually are standing in them.

IMG_7818Ellie at a shop in Chinatown during CNY season 2013

Singapore is a unique country.  We have four official languages.  In order of useage-English, Mandarin, Maylay and Tamil.  English is the dominant language of Singapore-this is partially due to a few hundred years of British rule.  Singapore was founded in 1819 by the Brits and they controlled it until post WW2 (although the Japanese occupied SG during WW2.  When Singapore became a country, Maylay was named as the “national language” although the Constitution, all political business, all court proceedings, and education are conducted in English.

English is the language of education–Mandarin/Maylay/Tamil are taught as second languages from Primary onward.  This is called mother tongue–you’re expected to take the language of your ethnicity.  However, some schools don’t teach all 3 secondary languages.  Further, as a parent, you can appeal for your child to take a language different from what “should” be the mother tongue class.

IMG_7819Chinatown (CNY 2013)

According to Wikipedia (this data is from the 2011 census)-context for non-SG friends

However, English is the native tongue for only one-third of all Singaporeans, with roughly a third of all Singaporean Chinese, a quarter of all Singaporean Malays and half of all Singaporean Indians speaking it as their native tongue. Twenty percent of Singaporeans, or one out of every five, cannot read or write in English.[156][146]

Many, but not all, Singaporeans are bilingual in English and another official language, with vastly varying degrees of fluency. The official languages ranked in terms of literacy amongst Singaporeans are English (80% literacy), Mandarin Chinese (65% literacy), Malay (17% literacy) and Tamil (4% literacy).[146][157]Singaporean English is based on British English,[158] and forms of English spoken range from Standard English to a pidgin known as “Singlish“. Singlish is heavily discouraged by the government.[159]

One of the key points of Assimilation is whether you learn the local language or not.  Only speaking English does still meet that requirement (more or less).  This is why Singapore is often referred to as “Asia light” or “Asia for beginners” amongst Expats.

As school is conducted in English, I felt comfortable sending Ellie to a local school (and will send Rhi when she’s old enough).  I was excited that she would learn Mandarin–all my studies when I was a dual French and Education major taught me that immersion with a native speaker at a young age was one of the few ways a person had a reasonable chance at achieving fluency.

Screen Shot 2013-03-05 at 11.44.50 AMElanor in N2 (2012)

What I didn’t think about was what it would feel like when Ellie struggled or needed help in Mandarin.  It wasn’t an issue in Nursery 1 or 2.  Sure, I couldn’t read the description of what was happening in Mandarin, but it didn’t bother me.  I was just excited that Ellie was learning any, and that any learning in Mandarin was good enough.

However, with Ellie entering K1 and our decision to pursue local education after Kindergarten, Mandarin took on more significance.  Additionally this year GUG made a few changes that meant the majority of the writing practice and some of the reading practice was to be done at home.  The rationale is actually very sound–in daily class they’re doing music, speech and drama, and projects in Mandarin.  This is far more interesting than the necessary (if rote) learning that is involved in reading and writing (especially writing, which is not only strokes, but the order of the strokes to correctly write a character).

As an educator, I do approve of this approach.

As a parent who doesn’t speak Mandarin, I felt like the ground had opened up under me.

mandarinE’s current Mandarin reader and workbook (2013)–what I’m supposed to be overseeing.

Before you say “you should learn Mandarin” please know that’s a post of its own and it’s coming.

I am very lucky.  I have a number of Mandarin speakers as Twitter friends and they translated the notes sent home in Mandarin and instructions on homework for me a number of times.  (They also told me that Teacher is spelled Lao Shi instead of Lao Shu, which means rat–and saved me from embarrassing myself on the teacher thank you note last December).

However, what this meant is that when I was “helping” (I use that term as loosely as possible) Ellie practice her writing in Mandarin, I had to resort to things like “now do the shape like a boomerang” and “now do the strokes so it looks kind of like a K.”  This was not helpful.

Screen Shot 2013-03-05 at 11.43.44 AMEllie in K1 (2013)

The feeling of utter helplessness, especially when you could easily help in any other subject, is frustrating.  Watching your child flounder and knowing that you can’t help her is heartbreaking. As an experienced teacher, I am not used to feeling helpless when it comes to curriculum.

This year Ellie has had some behavior issues in Mandarin class-some of which is that she’s testing a new (to her) teacher, some of it is that she is highly distractable, and some of which is likely driven by not understanding something and then tuning out altogether.  I will admit that the whole Mandarin thing has brought me to tears on more than one occasion.  I’ve ever wondered if we made mistake in having her learn (not for real, but in the moment of helplessness).

We’ve engaged a tutor for Ellie who can help her and who can talk to me about what her progress is like and so forth.  In an ideal world I would sit down with her and learn along with her (or at least enough to do some drilling) but we’ll get to that in the “Why don’t you learn Mandarin” post.

Screen Shot 2013-03-05 at 11.43.30 AMLion Dance at one of Ellie’s Gymnastic’s Schools (CNY 2013)

The thing is that our ability to get this sort of help for her is only due to our economic stability.  Most of my parents in the US were not financially well off enough that a tutor was an option for their children (or themselves).  I feel very lucky that we do have this ability to pay, and that when we eventually go back to the US, we can afford for Ellie to continue her Mandarin education as an extracurricular.

Last week we were at a local playground a mom came up to me expressing shock that Ellie spoke Mandarin.  They were visiting from China, and had stopped for her son to play.  He’d approached E and asked her if she wanted to play with him-in Mandarin.  She replied in Mandarin and they went and played.  Let’s be clear-E is NOT fluent.  Not by a long long long shot.  But that she has any ability to have a discussion with a kid roughly her age is amazing to me.

The reality, though, is that Mandarin isn’t high stakes for Elanor the way it is for a child in the US learning English.  You can get along just fine in Singapore speaking only English.  If she studies Mandarin her whole academic career and only ever gets C’s, it will still be seen as impressive.  It’s a bonus that she learns Mandarin, not a necessity.  Which is a mark of American privelege- I don’t know if my Chinese American friend’s kids would be given that sort of a break (at least locally).

IMG_7822One of the Snake lanterns in Chinatown to commemorate 2013

The experiences you have as an expat do change the way you look at the world and examine your own history-profoundly so.

Having stood (even if only a little) has recast those parents in my eyes.  I didn’t give them as much thought as I should have.  I didn’t really think about the daily homework that went home, and how it must have felt to not even be able to tell their child what the instructions on the homework said, much less an inability to help them with it.  I’m sure that there were even occasions where I was callous enough to be frustrated that I had to find a translator to do a call home or to send a note home (not in a malicious “why don’t they just learn English” way, but more of a thoughtless “it’s so frustrating I have to do this extra thing just to touch base with a parent” way).

I now have a lot more empathy for them.  I think that they deserve so much more support than we give them.  I don’t have solutions, but I do have awareness.  Were I ever to teach again I hope that I remember, vividly, how it feels to be the parent who can’t speak the language.  If I ever am on the other side of the desk again, I hope I do more to help them and reach out to them.

Filed under: Assimilation, Expat to Expat Advice | 12 Comments »

Lapped

Posted on January 14, 2013 by Expat Bostonians

Defining oneself as an expat (at least to me) implies some level of transience.   Sometimes it’s a month (as my time in France as a student was), and sometimes it’s years.  But you always have the intention of going home…eventually.  If you stay put long enough, you start to see your friends move on-going to a new posting or going home.

This past weekend, we visited with a friend who is heading back to the US at the end of the month.  She will be the third expat friend who has left since we arrived in April of 2010, but she is the first who arrived and left during my sojourn here.

While I don’t give much thought on a day to day basis to the idea of repatriation, having a friend repatriate gives you pause.  It makes you mentally try the idea on for size.  I tried it on, and it doesn’t fit right now.

(I meant to type “it doesn’t fit.”  I typed “it doesn’t fit right now.”  I find that interesting-which is why I mention it.)

When you become an expat, there are phases you go through in your adjustment to living in a new country.  I borrowed the following quote from the always excellent Maria‘s post on Culture Shock.

Many models of culture shock have been proposed since Canadian anthropologist Kalervo Oberg outlined his theory during a presentation to the Women’s Club of Rio de Janeiro in 1954. Oberg’s version encompassed four phases:

  1. Honeymoon: In this stage, the expatriate views the new surroundings with a tourist’s perspective. There is a sense of euphoria because everything is new and exciting.
  2. Rejection: Oberg referred to this as the “crisis” stage. The expat begins to notice things in the new culture that don’t make sense. This disorientation leads to animosity toward the culture and its people, because nothing is the way it “should” be, and the expat feels confused and helpless.
  3. Regression: Once the host culture is rejected, the expat reverts to the familiar comfort of the home culture, which is now seen through rose-coloured glasses. The expatriate complains constantly, and chooses to remain isolated from the host culture.
  4. Recovery: Finally, the feelings of isolation begin to decrease. The expat feels more comfortable and in control of life in the new environment. With equilibrium restored, acceptance of the situation is now possible.

It is in the recovery stage that expats start to adjust and grow attached to their new culture. “When you go on home leave you may even take things back with you,” Oberg said, “and if you leave for good, you generally miss the country and the people to whom you have become accustomed.”

When we first moved here, I constantly was adding posts to my culture shock category of this blog.  But over time, that has slowed.  Things about Singapore still frustrate me.  Things about Singapore still baffle me.  But overall, I feel as though I’ve got my footing.  And in the day to day minutiae of raising two kids, grocery shopping, and a slew of other mundane things I’d do regardless of the country, I don’t spend a lot of time missing the US (well, I miss Target, but who wouldn’t?).

IMG_4207And my friends.  I do miss you guys.

Today, when I think about repatriation, I shake my head and say “later, not now.”  Ellie is in a wonderful K program, and I wouldn’t want to move home this year when it would be a huge fight for me to get her into a K program this coming September (most US schools require that you’re 5 on the first September 1, and E won’t turn 5 until November–an extremely “late” birthday by modern US standards). I don’t want to tackle the issue that in K1 she’s doing US 1st grade work–that 2 year gap is going to be an issue when we move back, and I just don’t want to think about dealing with it (nor do I want to open up a discussion about dealing with it in comments–I’m bringing it up to illustrate a point–that repatriation is going to involve a lot of hard choices and I just don’t really want to think about them at the moment.  For the record, I’m compiling a portfolio of her work to demonstrate what she’s been doing, so I’m not totally head in the sand on this particular issue).  I don’t want to think about how we’ll ensure that she keeps up with Mandarin.  I really don’t want to think about how upset Ellie will be to leave Singapore, which she considers her home–the US is where her grandparents live and we visit.  I know we’ll miss having so much Indian culture easily available for the girls.  I will really miss the ease with which adults interact with the girls–I have no patience for the stranger danger/everyone is going to abduct my kid/everything will hurt my baby so I’m going to put them in a bubble culture.  I’ll miss my friends here.

When we visit home, I enjoy that I can crack a joke and that I can fit in easily (although, less so the longer time passes).  But I also can recognize how out of step I am in the US when it comes to many things–and the seriousness with which we take academics and what we consider appropriate curriculum at what age fits in FAR better here in Singapore than it does in the US.  I love seeing my friends.  I hate seeing how different it all is (and knowing that gap will keep growing between what was and what is).  I love experiencing seasons other than really fucking hot all the time, but don’t feel the need to visit when it’s freezing because I don’t particularly miss shoveling snow or scraping ice off my car.

So it is with sadness that we say good-bye to another friend.  But is it with content that I wave good-bye.  Because I want to stay put for the moment.

IMG_3986Leaving means leaving our new friends.  Darn it, why can’t you all fit in my pocket?

Filed under: Culture Shock, Expat to Expat Advice, Identity, Third Culture Kids | 4 Comments »

Expat Wife = Easiest Job in SG?

Posted on December 10, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

The easiest job in Singapore has to be expat wife.

The quote above showed up in the @hellofrmsg twitter feed earlier today (a person the account follows, not a specific comment to the account).  As I am an expat wife, I wanted to address this comment, but I knew it would take more than a series of tweets to do a fair job of addressing both the truth and the misconception of this comment.

First I think it important to note that the comment, and this entry address the life of expat wives in Singapore.  As my mother in law, and my friend Emily can attest, being an expat wife in other countries (the US and Japan respectively) is an entirely different ballgame than what I’m experiencing.  This entry is also based on my experiences, those recounted to me by my friends, the assumptions I’ve dealt with both here and back home, and does not necessarily accurately reflect every expat wife’s experience in Singapore.  However, this is the only point of view from which I can address this topic.

I’m going to try to address this without getting defensive, although I think it understandable that my very first reaction was to feel defensive.  Let’s hope that I can do it justice.  Please let me say as clearly as I can–at no point am I trying to evoke pity for the plight of the expat wife.  I hope only to promote understanding of what it is like to be in my shoes.

An acknowledgement of privilege.

I think that before I can address the assumptions inherent in the statement that “The easiest job in Singapore has to be expat wife” that I find problematic/troubling, I have to address the parts of that statement that are absolutely true.  I have to acknowledge the privileges inherent in being an expat wife.

Although not universally true, it is true that most working expats are compensated at a higher rate than locals. 

There is a lot of anger directed at foreign talent, and at expat wives for this privilege.  This anger is understandable, and absolutely in need of addressing by all parties involved.  I will say that my husband is well compensated for his work.  However, he is not the person who placed the numeric value on his job skills, nor is he the person who elected to hire him.  He applied for and accepted a job.  We have no knowledge of whether there was a local applicant for the position, or how they were evaluated in relation to Ravi.  The companies doing the hiring need to disclose what it is exactly that has them seeking out foreign talent–if local talent can be hired more cheaply, there isn’t a lot of logic in hiring an expat at a higher compensation.  If there are skills that they are looking for that local education isn’t providing, the MOE needs to address that.  But while we personally are not responsible for this trend, Ravi and I are participating in it, and our/expat ability to pay higher prices is partially responsible for driving up cost of living (among other reasons—expat wealth is not solely responsible for a cost of living increase).

Please do keep in mind that these interpretations of the tropes and perceptions of expat wife-dom are again based on my own incomplete understanding.  Please do educate me further about the assumptions behind this statement.

Due to our husband’s financial compensation, many expat wives have the option of staying home.

As an expat wife, I do have the luxury of being a stay at home mom.  This is not a privilege many/perhaps the majority of local moms share in.  Some local moms, like my friend J, have been lucky enough to have generous maternity packages.  But she is returning to work in part for financial reasons (and in part for personal reasons, including feeling fulfilled by her work).  This tension between stay at home moms and moms who would like to stay home but do not have the resources to do so exists in many cultures, including the US, and is not unique to Singapore.  However, expat wives are a visible symbol of this privilege and the frustration and resentment is understandable.  However, again, I don’t set policy for Singapore.  Singapore does not have the most family-friendly hiring/working/firing conditions for moms OR dads, and that is something I know that many are working to address.

The other truth that is inherent in my (and other expat wives) can afford to take extended vacations.  When my best friend Kate got married last August, I took the girls and went to the US for almost the entire month so that I could be there for the last bit of planning and to host the bachelorette party.  Before Ellie was in school/I had Rhiannon, I would often turn my husband’s two week trip home to the US into a month-long trip for Ellie and I.  I could, I suppose, take the girls on vacation without Ravi, but apart from going back to the US (where I have my in-laws, parents and friends for support) it’s not much of a vacation.

But our ability to do this is enviable.  Before I married Ravi I wasn’t in the financial position to afford regular vacations.  My family didn’t have a lot of money, and I was 20 before I ever flew in an airplane.  Growing up, I was jealous and envious of my friends who did get to go to Disneyland or to exotic places like California (I grew up on the other side of the US in Massachusetts), much less to places like London.  I dreamt of visiting them, but doing so was out of my reach.  I didn’t marry Ravi for his income, but I’d be lying if I didn’t openly admit that the income has increased my standard of living exponentially.

Expat wives sit around and shop on Orchard Road while everyone else does all the work.

The most common trope of expat wife-dom that I’ve seen is that we shop on Orchard Road, get pedicures, and gossip with other expat wives while our maids take care of our children and our homes.

Some of this is absolutely true.  I’ve met expat wives that fit that trope, and there’s a reason I’m not really friends with most of those women–we have very little in common.

But while I don’t fit that exact profile–I don’t often shop on Orchard Road (apart from Kinokuniya books at Takashimaya and occasionally Jasons’s Marketplace), and I don’t have a maid (anymore), there are assumptions in there that are true.  I am lucky enough to be a in a position to have a cleaning service, and I have a twice weekly babysitter.  I like a good pedicure (although I think my last one was over six months ago–babies and pedicures aren’t necessarily compatible).  I like to hang out with my friends–expat AND local.

More to the point, the assumption speaks to perceived luxury.  It is true that I have the resources to shop at more expensive grocery stores (although I definitely don’t have the buying power to even walk into Louis Vuitton or Prada).  I could hire another live in maid if I wanted to–and that I have the option of hiring a cleaning service that is more expensive than my live-in helper’s wages (although not wages+food allowance+taxes, I believe, although that’s not the point).

Growing up without money, I was frustrated that others seemed to get things so much more easily than I did.  I’m 90k in debt because I had to take out a lot of money to pay for my bachelor’s and master’s degrees.  Although as a teacher I was compensated at about the median income of the US (50K USD),  I had no ability to afford a home in one of the most expensive housing markets in the US–I was looking at a lifetime of renting.  If I had married another teacher, we would have needed loans to pay for our children’s education.

Expat wives expect Singapore to accommodate them, and not the other way around.

I hope that most days this doesn’t apply to me or my friends.  But it is true that it applies to some.  To this I can only say that there are assholes in every walk of life–be they expat wife, cab driver, teacher, or sales clerk.  And there are days it applies to me, when I am the asshole (I share a day like that in this entry).

We get to live abroad, and that is a rare privilege.

Living abroad at all is a rare and wonderful privilege.  We (including myself) often lose sight of that in our day to day lives.  This is a million miles (figuratively) away from what I expected my life to be at 34.  Living in Singapore as an American is one of the easiest places I could live–I speak the local language (sort of-see this entry for an English/English FAIL), foods that are familiar to me are easily available, the water is clean, the schools are good, and a thousand other things I likely take for granted, when compared with being an expat in another location.  To be fair, my only other experience in living abroad was that of a student living with a host family in Aix-En-Provence, France when I was 20 for one month-where again, I more or less spoke the language (sort of-in a grammatically deficient form), I had my housing and food largely provided, and I didn’t have to work.

Further, I get to participate in daily Singapore life in a way that Ravi doesn’t.  He works a ridiculous amount of hours.  He works in Singapore, but only gets to be part of it on weekends.  And that’s just not the same experience.

Addressing the problems/troubling aspects of the statement

Now that I have tried to address the truths of the statement, I’d like to address the problems in it.

The conflation of expat with the words wealthy, white, and Western.

I know a number of expats.  Not all are western-my friend Y is from Indonesia, and she’s technically an expat wife.  Not all are white-my friends W, M, J, A, and P (P blogs as Notabilia) are western expat wives, but are of Asian extraction, not Caucasian.  My friend E is both white and western but not wealthy.

This assumption that expat=white is really problematic.  My non-white friends have all shared experiences where a different set of expectations have been placed upon them because people assume they’re Singaporean, or think that they should fit a different set of stereotypes.  I see this trope constantly–an example from twitter is the question of “what salon is good with expat hair?”, and I recently received a media request to help them find “expectant expat women” who were using “local medicine” for a reality program–a request I correctly interpreted to mean that they wanted some white blonde girls who were using TCM for prenatal care to be a spectacle on a western show.

Obviously terms like “expat” and “American” are universally problematic because few people fit stereotypes (or fit them completely).  But I think that when we’re addressing a comment like “the easiest job in Singapore is expat wife” it is important to draw attention to the stereotype being addressed.

I’d also like to add the assumption of straight, but the truth is that if you are an expat wife in Singapore you are either bisexual and married to a person of the opposite sex (such as me) or you are straight.  Which is a whole other topic to get into another time (the heteronormative aspects of life in Singapore that I struggle with).

The assumption of a certain lifestyle

I know a number of expats.  None of us (American or otherwise) are members of our nationality based “club” (the American Club, the Dutch Club, the British Club and so forth).  Roughly only half have maids.  Most of us are stay at home moms–but we are involved, hands-on mothers.

Very few people come to Singapore on “expat packages” anymore.  Ravi has what is called a “local package.”  His company paid to relocate us, and put us up in a temp apartment for one month.  That is it.  We don’t get a housing allowance, or a school allowance, or any of that.  Which is not to say “feel bad for me”-I’m just sharing that the financial/corporate support is very different from 10 or 20 years ago.

What I’m getting at is that few of us have the lifestyle imagined.  Which brings me to my next point.

Statements like this only serve to push expats and locals further apart, rather than help us connect.

I am deeply grateful for my expat friends, American and otherwise.  Being an expat is a unique experience, and it helps you get through the day to know that some of your friends understand the parts with which you struggle.

I am equally grateful for my local friends.  Kirsten, J1, J2, J3, M, D, and my many local friends whom I’ve only met on twitter or via their blogs (such as Singapore Actually) are vitally important to my day to day survival in Singapore, probably more than I can ever express to them.  I am a stranger in a strange land, and they are my guides.  They’ve advised me where to find stuff, what restaurants they enjoy, recommended pest control services and dry cleaners, and they are my first line of information when I just don’t understand something.  I know they will be the people who will help me navigate the confusing process of getting Ellie into a local P1 class when the time comes.  And just as there is no universal expat experience, they have a wealth of different experiences that help me form a better, multidimensional view of the topic we’re discussing.

However, finding local friends isn’t easy.  You can’t just walk up to someone at a store or on the street and ask them, “will you be my Singaporean friend?”  In my case, social media (my blog and my twitter particuarly) and people who were willing to reach out to me were my entry to friendships with locals.  If I weren’t a social media/internet sort of person, it would be hard to find local friends.

There is an assumption in both the local and the expat communities that they are “other” from ourselves.  Statements like that only build resentment and further firm that assumption.  As an expat wife, I want to be defensive.  As a local, I might feel a twinge of resentment.

But the truth is that my local friends and I have a lot in common.

Those of us who are moms want the best future for our children.  We love them, and want them to turn into wonderful people.  We might feed them differently, or discipline them differently, but we all share the same end goal.  We like food.  We like many of the same movies.  We support each other when we’re having a bad day, and provide a shoulder to cry on.  We step in and pick each other’s kids up from school if someone is going to be late.

My friend Kirsten and I share a love of Broadway musicals.  We have a similar snarky sense of humor and I’ll miss her snark during the New Year’s Eve show, as she’s currently abroad in a graduate program.

I’ve been lucky enough to attend a local friend’s wedding reception, and another friend invited us to her home for Diwali.

I would love it if every expat had a great group of local friends.  Maybe we’d have less animosity if they did.

There are often things that aren’t easy about being an expat wife

Let me again reiterate that I am not seeking, nor do I deserve, pity.  I have a great life.  But there are things that are less easy here than they would be in my home country, and my purpose in sharing those here is to shed some light on the parts of being an expat that aren’t part of the public discourse in the same way that the parts of our life that are priviledged are.

  • It isn’t easy to be 10,000 miles away from my closest friends and family.  Yes, I skype, tweet, blog, and facebook to stay in touch.  It doesn’t make losing a relative but not being a position to fly home for the funeral easy.  It doesn’t make missing out on friend’s weddings easy.  It doesn’t make them missing out on being a daily part of the girls lives easy.  it doesn’t make days where someone posts “who wants to go to X” on Facebook and I want nothing more than to go to X with them, but can’t because I’m on the other side of the world easy.
  • It isn’t easy to learn how to navigate the ins and outs of daily life in Singapore, especially the parts that you think SHOULD be easy.  I had to learn how to use a washing machine and dryer again.  I didn’t know what to do when we lost power, and I was frustrated because it seemed like such a basic thing to know.  For that matter, I didn’t know how to call an ambulance…something that became vitally important when I was laying on my floor with a broken leg.  These moments of confusion, especially the longer I’ve been here are extremely frustrating because I feel like I *should* know how to do them.  But they’re not situations that your “moving to Singapore” guides or seminars cover.
  • It’s not always easy to explain your life to your friends back home.  Some parts are just so mundane–I take the kids to school, I do grocery shopping, I drive.  Others are weirdly different–the country is smaller than my home state (which is a small state to begin with), and I’m still not used to the nonstop heat.  But then there’s the middle ground–stuff that’s too mundane to be interesting, but not exotic enough to be interesting either–such as what it’s like to hire a handyman and navigate a home repair (we don’t have the 150 dollar deductible/then hire a handyman yourself dynamic back home).
  • It’s definitely not easy to have a maid.  I’ve written pretty extensively about this (20 posts).  But let me boil it down to some essentials.  For those of us who come from cultures where it isn’t the norm to have live-in help are ill-prepared to be effective managers of live-in help, and the MOM “training” just isn’t adequate.  There are major cultural differences.  Having a stranger live in your home, especially if this is an abnormality for your home culture is problematic.  Having a maid didn’t just fail to work out for us because she stole things from us (although obviously, that was an issue), but because I sucked at being a maid’s employer.
  • It’s not easy to raise third culture kids.  If I were raising them in the US, I’d have a lot of understanding of their day to day experiences, inasmuch as any parent has.  Raising the girls in Singapore means that they are having a radically different childhood from our own.  Which is partially the point.  But it isn’t always easy to navigate how to parent them in a way that supports their growth and respects who they are/how they identify when you don’t necessarily understand their experiences.  For me this is compounded by the fact that my children are biracial, and no matter how much I learn about Indian culture-I’m not Indian, I’m not a person of color and I will never completely understand their experiences.  Something I plan to write about is that when I was filing my police report on losing my purse in Vegas (Oh yeah, I need to share about that too), the officer asked me what race my children were and when they didn’t have biracial or “other” she asked me “what do they look like-white or asian?” and used that, to my extreme discomfort.  It’s not easy to support a child who is learning Mandarin (which I’m so excited by) when I can’t read the weekly summary of what they’re doing in Mandarin class (because it’s written in Mandarin), I can’t speak the language to help her gain vocabulary, and as she ages I can’t support her homework.

Some final thoughts

I didn’t write this post to attack whoever first said that “the easiest job in Singapore is that of Expat Wife.”  I always meant to address being an expat during my week as curator on @hellofrmsg and this was an entry point to do so.

Filed under: Culture Shock, customs, Expat to Expat Advice, Helpers, Housing, Identity, medical, money, Singapore, Third Culture Kids, With Kids | 23 Comments »

Singapore has made me a photographer

Posted on October 19, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

Before we moved to Singapore, I liked photography, but I primarily took pictures on vacation and of Elanor.

But the beauty of Singapore had me reaching for my camera so often I eventually took classes and upgraded my camera.  Beware, all you potential expats–you will likely get addicted!

Sunset, looking back at the city from Marina Bay Sands

At the National Orchid Garden

Salwaar on display at Tekka Market, Little India

I took classes with Phocus, and was fairly happy with them, although I may try another school for my next class.

My friend Katrjin has also fallen prey to the photography bug (who also recommends her photography school).

I upgraded to the Canon EOS D600, which is their low-end DSLR last year just before I had Rhiannon. I’m still learning how to use it properly as I took my photography class before I owned a DSLR and am now just putting a lot of those techniques into practice.  I’m actually thinking quite seriously about taking another class if I can find one that fits well with our schedule (and once our travel is over for the year).

I do still take a lot of camera phone pictures (and one of my big criteria in picking a phone is that it have a top of the line camera–my current phone’s camera is better than the digital camera we owned 7 years ago, for reference) although camera phones have far more issue with low light and movement.  But when it comes to the photos that we have up in our home, they’re all DSLR or digital camera photos.

This website has great tricks and tips, and even sends out weekly emails with tips/tricks to help.  Many are timely (such as how to shoot fireworks around the American holiday of 4th of July when we celebrate with fireworks).

Any other photography afficianados want to chime in with tips, recommended photography classes here in Singapore and the like?

Filed under: Education, Expat to Expat Advice, Pictures, Singapore | 2 Comments »

Trick or Treating in Singapore

Posted on October 18, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

One of the most common questions American Expats have this time of year is “Is there trick or treating in Singapore?” or “Where can I go trick or treating in Singapore?”

Yes, there is trick or treating.

On Halloween (Oct 31), take a CAB to the Singapore American School in Woodlands starting around 7.  DO NOT drive yourself-there is no parking.

You will see giant hordes of people trick or treating on the streets adjacent to SAS.  The police block off the streets to make them a pedestrian zone.  People will be at their gates handing out candy (see above).

We went last year and it was an absolute blast.  E got a lot of candy (as well as a temp tattoo-which in her world was the best thing ever).  Americans, Singaporeans, everyone is welcome.

Ellie will be going as a Pirate Princess (complete with hat and sword) and Rhiannon will be her pirate first mate (yes there will be pictures).  If you still need a costume, there are some options at the more “expat” Cold Storages (Jelita, Great World City and United Square all have a few, with Jelita having the best selection) and some Toys R Us have a selection (if I recall the one at Forum had a reasonable display).  Don’t expect the kind of selection you get in the US, but with a little creativity you’ll do just fine.

 

***UPDATED TO ADD***
In case you skip comments, I wanted to share the following…

Just wanted to let all your readers know that this event is completely privately-funded and supplied by the generous (mostly American) families in Woodlands. The residents themselves pool their money together to hire security to keep the kids safe on the streets, and file the necessary forms to block the streets off for pedestrian traffic only. Each house hands out up to 4,000 pieces of candy Halloween night. So please, everyone, appreciate the efforts of a small group of people to let others share in our Halloween fun. If you don’t know how to donate funds to help out in maintaining security, or donate a bag of candy to offset the large demand, it would be great if those of us who don’t live in Woodlands (myself included) helped support their charity cause: Caring for Cambodia. Bring along some new toothbrushes, and when you see a sign announcing the house is a drop-off point, the SAS student organization will ensure that your toothbrushes are delivered to chilren in need in Cambodia. Thanks for listening. From an American parent (and former 6 year Cambridge resident!) who doesn’t live in the Woodlands herself but really admires their generosity and sense of fun!

Filed under: Expat to Expat Advice, Holidays (Not Singaporean), Singapore, With Kids | Tagged: , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments »

Question Time–Mail related

Posted on October 3, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

I have a question–
Does Singpost not forward mail?
We have lived in our current apartment for 2 1/2 years and still get mail addressed to a previous resident.  I’ve written does not live here and put it back in the returned mail slot–and the same companies (as in financial/credit card companies) are still sending him mail at our place.  I have no idea if he moved out directly before us, or five years ago.

So–seriously–it’s annoying to get this dude’s mail.  Can I make it stop?  A neighbor has a note on the front of their box noting for whom they only want delivery.

And thinking forward–when we eventually move (either within SG or elsewhere)–does that mean that Singpost won’t do any forwarding either?

Please readers–enlighten me, as I realize I have no clue on this topic.

Filed under: customs, Expat to Expat Advice, Housing, Random Stuff, Singapore | 2 Comments »

Reverse Culture Shock

Posted on August 16, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

After driving on the left side of the road for the past seven or so months, I have had to focus and think hard about being on the right side of the road again.  I found myself wailing to anyone who would listen that “BOTH SIDES OF THE ROAD ARE WRONG!  THERE IS NO CORRECT SIDE ANYMORE!!!”

When filling my tank at the gas station, the attendant told me the total was $53 USD (66.25 SGD) and I almost replied “No, I wanted a full tank of gas,” thinking that there must have been a mistake. Then I remembered that gas is significantly cheaper here.  A typical full tank in Singapore is 100 SGD (80 USD), and that is for a tank that is only 2/3rds the size of my US tank.  To recap, I get 33% more gas for 67% of the cost of a tank of gas in Singapore.

Hello Reverse Culture shock

I’ve always been one to feel a deep sense of relief upon landing on American soil.  Coming home has meant that things finally make sense to me again without having to process or think–that I reflexively “get it.”

I’d heard of reverse culture shock but assumed that since I’m American as Apple Pie it would never happen to me.  That when we eventually moved home, I’d assimilate right back in without so much as a hiccup.

However, after two and a half years, it seems that my automatic sense of “just getting it” isn’t so automatic anymore. That I’m out of step here.  Confused.  I got lost when driving to a mall I’ve been to hundreds of times over the course of my life.  Perplexed by stores that are no longer there.  Looking for friends who have moved on from Massachusetts and the US.  Unsteady.

Playing with sidewalk chalk in my in-laws driveway with her Dada 

I’m not sure that we could ever use sidewalk chalk at our condo in Singapore.  But at my in-laws, Ellie is free to draw with it in the driveway and decorate the path to their front door, and no one cares if it doesn’t rain for a few days, knowing it will be washed away sooner or later.

Davis Square, Somerville Massachusetts

I am very used to the way retail transactions are done in Singapore, and it has shown in my two weeks here.

When trying to buy some stuff at a drug store, I handed the credit card to the cashier with both hands. WRONG-I should’ve used the machine.

I tried to insert the card into the machine to let it read the chip.  WRONG-I should’ve swiped it.

I waited to sign the slip.  WRONG-I should’ve signed the machine’s screen.

I’ve also used cash when I didn’t need to because I’m so used to credit card minimums.  In the US, you can charge almost any amount.  Often, when the transaction is less than 25 or 50 USD, you don’t even need to sign for it at all.

gorgeous sky

I know there are parts of Singapore where the sky is so big and so gorgeous it just blows your mind.  But due to where we live, where Ravi works, and where Ellie goes to school, the majority of my time is spent in the high rise mecca of the Central Business District. Seeing so much open sky and so many 1-2 story buildings shocks me at times.

Trinity Church with the Hancock Tower in the background (Copley Square, Boston)

Amusing anecdotes aside, the major change is ME.

I love being home.  I love seeing my friends.  I love having grandparents who are happy to babysit (for free, even!).  I love the long hot showers.  I love being able to shop for clothes that actually fit my body.  Oh, American Food–it’s so good that I’m only eating you for a few weeks–I can’t bear to think of how many calories I’m eating.

I’ve done some shopping–mostly for clothes for my non-pregnant, soon to be non-breastfeeding (or significantly reduced breastfeeding) body.  I’ve picked up Halloween costumes for the girls.  Some books.  A few dvd’s.  And we’ll fill a suitcase with food to be sure.

BUT.

I’m not running to Target, desperate for anything familiar, terrified to find alternatives.  I think of the food we took to Singapore, so certain we’d crave it, only to have it still sitting in our cupboards.  The tons of dvd’s I’ve bought only to not have viewed them as of yet.  Ellie wears uniforms five days a week–there’s no need to spoil her with a ton of new clothes, and Rhi is inheriting a ridiculous wardrobe from Ellie.  I’m more comfortable in the knowledge that if we truly need something, my in-laws can send it–or we can just live without it until our trip home in November for a cousin’s wedding.  In the 8 months since our last visit, the only thing I ran out of that was an issue was my preferred salon-sold shampoo and conditioner, and I bought more today.  I think it is a real possibility that we leave a suitcase or two here in the US instead of buying the two more we could to max our luggage allowance.  Sure toys are cheaper here (and so are books) and I’ve bought a couple, but…meh.

There is actually very little here that I couldn’t live without in Singapore (with the exception of my clothes and shampoo…and maybe a bag of my favorite bbq chips).  Realizing this is quite a shock to my system.

Singapore is home.  The way life works there, incomprehensible to me as it might be at times, is my “norm” now.

I find myself scouring my twitter feeds in the morning to catch up on my SG tweep’s doings.  I’ve joined in discussions dissecting caning (we’re against it), why women in SG aren’t procreating at the government’s preferred speed and volume, and rolled my eyes when people here think that the “National Night” video by Mentos is something to take seriously (also, I get most of the references!).  I’ve been in Singapore long enough to understand some of the political and social issues of the day well enough to have an educated opinion.

Ellie keeps asking when we’re going back to Singapore, and I think I finally understand why.  While I’ve enjoyed the trip “home,” I’m happy to heading back to the little red dot, which has also become “home.”

Filed under: Boston, cars/driving, Culture Shock, customs, Expat to Expat Advice, headdesk moments, Identity, money, North America, Pictures, Random Stuff, Singapore, Third Culture Kids, Travel by Continent, Country, US | 21 Comments »

WAM-Breastfeeding in Singapore

Posted on June 29, 2012 by Expat Bostonians

In today’s post over at White as Milk, I discuss my experiences breastfeeding in Singapore, and some areas where improvements could be made to better support new moms.

Filed under: Expat to Expat Advice, Pregnant Expat, Singapore, White as Milk, With Kids, Writing | Leave a Comment »

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