Travel

 

Far-flung friendships

 

A small house will hold a hundred friends

– African proverb

 

After three years in Indonesia, we began making plans to leave. International moves begin months before the plane.

After the decision to move on, comes the bureaucracy. This varies from country to country. We pursued various pieces of paper.

We submitted applications for police checks, useful to have after living anywhere for a significant amount of time. You never know which official might request this in the future.

After three hours in Jakarta’s ‘macet’ (heavy traffic) we reached a government office, where a ‘fixer’ meets and greets us, takes us to the correct line, gives us forms to fill out and directs us to the dude with the ink pad.

My husband is invited first (of course, he is a man and this is S E Asia). He emmerges with inky, grubby fingertips; finger printing ‘old school style’. I was ushered in next.

The whole process was over in less than 10 minutes before returning for another dose of macet. The certificates of ‘good conduct’ were delivered six days later, complete with impressive, embossed golden eagles.

The next thing to sort out was the shipping of our personal items. We obtained quotes. There were some discussions. A company was booked.

We started ‘re-zoning’ our house about a week before the packing day. You ask yourself, what can we send? What do we need for the last weeks? What will we discard at the end?

This move was simpler, as we were only shipping to one place. Three years ago we had two shipments, sailing to Indonesia and South Africa. We know what to expect after so many moves, seven international ones in total.

Magpie, our eclectic home on the Cape Peninsula, is our unique homage to our travels after living in different countries. And that is where we have put down roots.

On packing day there were post it notes everywhere, demarcating ‘don’t pack’, ‘don’t go in here’, or “Hati Hati” (be careful).

A team of seven guys ripped through our home with bubble wrap, bendy cardboard and tape guns. They moved quickly, packed expertly, customizing boxes as they went.

The truck was loaded with all our items. All our stuff was in boxes, again.

After all of that, there are the goodbyes. This is the bit that I find the hardest, with each and every move. I’ve had a lot of practice at it but haven’t got much better at it.

It’s often teary. Some will see that as a weakness; the inability to be cold and unfeeling and suppress your emotions when saying goodbye. But if I care about you and I don’t know when we will meet again, I’m going to feel something about that.

In recent years I’ve found that ‘fast and furious’ is an effective alternative, especially at airports. A quick “ciao ciao” can work, followed later by a more meaningful written message.

Otherwise it’s super hard.

And that has become the price to pay after the privilege of meeting so many great people, expanding your circle of friends globally.

I read a piece lately that likened expat friendships to dog years. Woof!

What a great analogy!

Over the last 17 years we have typically spent two or three years living and working in each country. The exit date is on your visa from day one. We’ve only extended that date once.

So from the start of each and every chapter, all the experiences are somehow intensified or with a sense of urgency. Travel to local and regional places becomes ‘must visit while we’re here’ places.

With people, there is a lack of time to get to know each other at the more natural pace that you might ‘back home’. Instead you skip a lot of the ‘getting to know you stuff’ and are thrown into things and situations quickly; You share experiences and support each other through tough times, sickness and family bereavements.

At times you live in each others pockets a little more than you might if you were still ‘at home’. You cook together, you laugh together. Sometimes you travel together. You bond.

Other colleagues and expats become your support network quickly, both emotionally and practically. You help each other through decisions to stay on or go. Ultimately you take the role of family, because you are the ones on the ground.

We were in the Emirates for five years. The ‘sandpit’ was a great social stomping ground. You can make friends easily there. It was the place that we had the biggest pool of expat friends but so many have moved on, now scattered around the world.

At two international schools we endured poisonous office politics and hideous HR ‘professionals’; head hunters who may as well have been head hunters.

So many people we knew were treated so badly. And you are affected by it when your workmates are being pushed around. You rally round. You listen. You provide a shoulder to cry on and pour whisky as required.

After working in two international schools like that we said “hallas” (enough, stop this BS, no more) and moved to a not for profit one. That’s when we moved to Kenya.

In Nairobi we had to deal with other challenges. And you make good friends in adversity.

It was here that a colleague introduced me to the term ‘framily’. She left the following year and that was tough on us. We didn’t want her to go. But we hated how she was neglected by the organization that we worked for. She went on to better things. And we wished her well.

She visited us in Indonesia a few years later and we just picked up the friendship as if there had been no time apart. And that’s testimony to the strength of that bond; how some friendships formed in foreign lands are very special. You share common experiences from an extraordinary overseas chapter in each other’s lives.

Bottom line, through brunches, lunches, house moves and downward dog moves, we have been in each other’s lives for the time that we were ‘away’ together, and overnight that changes when one of you moves on. It doesn’t matter who’s doing the leaving.

You could say that when you live away from your family and long term friends, you have less people around you who are your people.

But I tend to think that when you live away, you work harder to find more people, who become your people too. Our circle of special people just keeps expanding. And that’s quite amazing.

Our time in Indonesia has been no exception.

As always you meet loads of people, locals and expats. You like many. You truly connect with some. We know there will be special people who we will miss.

We have enjoyed this opportunity to forge friendships through our work in various countries. Maybe the rolling stone gathers no moss, but were lucky to gain friends on almost every continent.

For us, as a new chapter begins, we know that the true connections will endure.

We will meet at MAGPIE.

It’s Mother City Time!

 

©Maggie M /Mother City Time