Did you know?
Expats, certainly ones living here, are soulless, money-grabbing, selfish capitalists who only wish to accumulate more of the filthy lucre. At any cost.
We booze and swill hundreds of ££ or $$$'s down our ever-open, ever-stretched gullets like so many young magpies.
Gorging. Gorging. Gorging.
Having invaded, and driven out the smaller weaker of our kind, from their palm-tree shaped nests (swimming pool included), we roar with evil laughter whilst rolling naked in our money-pits (we all have them), twirling our evil moustaches.
Apparently.
All of us.
In fact, I think there is a good chance I do it less.
Now, this is NOT because I am oppressed, by virtue of my weaker inferior sex nor in fact ... as everybody outside the MiddleEast seems to think* ... because I am not allowed to.
*Ditto driving. Ditto eating pork.
Here, let me explain.
The GeMTHH (GetMeTheHellHome) Quotient
It looks like this:
Essentially, we need to establish if A is greater than the value of G
A = Amount of Alcohol-induced Fun likely OR Alcohol-Required to Induce Fun
G = Getting Home Afterwards Aggravation / Urgency
Thus, in Dubai, I often drive.
In HongKong, you step outside (unless it is raining), *BOOM* there's a cab & before you know it, you are getting yourself the Hell home.
It is less easy, in my experience, here in Dubai. Unless, I guess you are doing your Mr Creosote obscene amount of consumption in a hotel.
I just like to get home, when I want to go home.
I don't wish to order a taxi at a specified time BEFORE I've even begun to have all the Fun .......... nor do I wish to, when I have decided to call 'time' on the Fun to wait for what could be anything from
"10 minutes away" to
"30 minutes coming" to after all that,
"not coming now. No taxis."
(assuming they even answer the phone at that point).
I digress. Yet again.
I have a habit of doing that.
See? I did it again.
Taxis and drunkedness is not what I want to talk about here.
_________________________________________________________________________________
That is what I want to talk about.
Good byes are the hidden Expat Tax. And it weighs heavy on us all.
There are the most commonly thought of Goodbyes -
* the agonisingly sad driving away from home, airport-bound.
* the stomach-churning Let's All Be Brave & Practical Until the Very Last Second and Pretend This Isn't Really Happening.
OR the hideous farewells actually AT the airport. The Stomach-Churn will follow you here. You cannot escape the Stomach Churn.
Both scenarios. Horrific. The guilt. The good ol' fashioned waaaaaa-hahhaahahaaaaaaaaa sadness. The suppression of the I Wanna Drop Everything and Run All The Way Home reflex.
There is another kind of Expat Goodbye too. Which also hurts. And doesn't require you to go anywhere.
The one where people leave YOU.
No no no. WE leave! WE do the leaving! Goddammit. ..................................WE do NOT get left!
This Goodbye happens when other Expats leave, to either stop being Expats or, to go be Expats somewhere else.
Making strong connections with other people can be really hard anyway, but, when you are an Expat can be really extra-hard.
Our world is very transient.
When you live away from family & friends, people that have known you through the bad haircuts, teenage dramas or relationship euphoria and hiccups, when you DO make what feels like a real connection, it can be quite intense.
I've touched on this Friend thing before - in The Rugby Post & also, in The Happiness Vampires
Friends, the good 'uns, become an immediate practical source of support when you do not have your family immediately at hand.
Sometimes that support comes in the very simple form of just a Proper Belly Laugh.
Maybe handing you a cold one, that makes you contemplate a certain algebraic equation. Remember what we were talking about earlier?
Or letting you roll in their Money-Pit.
Goodbyes suck. All of them.
Whether you are the Leaver or the Leave-ee.
Expats, certainly ones living here, are soulless, money-grabbing, selfish capitalists who only wish to accumulate more of the filthy lucre. At any cost.
We booze and swill hundreds of ££ or $$$'s down our ever-open, ever-stretched gullets like so many young magpies.Gorging. Gorging. Gorging.
Having invaded, and driven out the smaller weaker of our kind, from their palm-tree shaped nests (swimming pool included), we roar with evil laughter whilst rolling naked in our money-pits (we all have them), twirling our evil moustaches.
Apparently.
All of us.
I don't think so.
Can I just say, before we move on, that I am not convinced that I drink/get drunk here, any more than I did in either of the other countries I have lived in.
Can I just say, before we move on, that I am not convinced that I drink/get drunk here, any more than I did in either of the other countries I have lived in.
In fact, I think there is a good chance I do it less.
Now, this is NOT because I am oppressed, by virtue of my weaker inferior sex nor in fact ... as everybody outside the MiddleEast seems to think* ... because I am not allowed to.
*Ditto driving. Ditto eating pork.
Here, let me explain.
I like to call it:
It looks like this:
Essentially, we need to establish if A is greater than the value of G
A = Amount of Alcohol-induced Fun likely OR Alcohol-Required to Induce Fun
G = Getting Home Afterwards Aggravation / Urgency
Thus, in Dubai, I often drive.
In HongKong, you step outside (unless it is raining), *BOOM* there's a cab & before you know it, you are getting yourself the Hell home.
It is less easy, in my experience, here in Dubai. Unless, I guess you are doing your Mr Creosote obscene amount of consumption in a hotel.
I just like to get home, when I want to go home.
I don't wish to order a taxi at a specified time BEFORE I've even begun to have all the Fun .......... nor do I wish to, when I have decided to call 'time' on the Fun to wait for what could be anything from"10 minutes away" to
"30 minutes coming" to after all that,
"not coming now. No taxis."
(assuming they even answer the phone at that point).
I digress. Yet again.
I have a habit of doing that.
See? I did it again.
Taxis and drunkedness is not what I want to talk about here.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Goodbyes.
That is what I want to talk about.
Good byes are the hidden Expat Tax. And it weighs heavy on us all.
There are the most commonly thought of Goodbyes -
* the agonisingly sad driving away from home, airport-bound.
* the stomach-churning Let's All Be Brave & Practical Until the Very Last Second and Pretend This Isn't Really Happening.OR the hideous farewells actually AT the airport. The Stomach-Churn will follow you here. You cannot escape the Stomach Churn.
Both scenarios. Horrific. The guilt. The good ol' fashioned waaaaaa-hahhaahahaaaaaaaaa sadness. The suppression of the I Wanna Drop Everything and Run All The Way Home reflex.
There is another kind of Expat Goodbye too. Which also hurts. And doesn't require you to go anywhere.
The one where people leave YOU.
No no no. WE leave! WE do the leaving! Goddammit. ..................................WE do NOT get left!
This Goodbye happens when other Expats leave, to either stop being Expats or, to go be Expats somewhere else.
Making strong connections with other people can be really hard anyway, but, when you are an Expat can be really extra-hard.
Our world is very transient.
When you live away from family & friends, people that have known you through the bad haircuts, teenage dramas or relationship euphoria and hiccups, when you DO make what feels like a real connection, it can be quite intense.
I've touched on this Friend thing before - in The Rugby Post & also, in The Happiness Vampires
Friends, the good 'uns, become an immediate practical source of support when you do not have your family immediately at hand.
Sometimes that support comes in the very simple form of just a Proper Belly Laugh.
Maybe handing you a cold one, that makes you contemplate a certain algebraic equation. Remember what we were talking about earlier?
Or letting you roll in their Money-Pit.
Goodbyes suck. All of them.
Whether you are the Leaver or the Leave-ee.
Hi House at Roo Corner,
ReplyDeleteMy name is Charles and I currently run a blog in Dubai, www.allxpats.com. I have been doing this now for the past year or so and while updating it and letting the website grow, I will now be moving onto my next venture. Which is why I am contacting you.
As finding advertisers for your site in the UAE is not the easiest of things to achieve, I have decided to start an Affiliate Network in the UAE whereby businesses can offer a certain sum of money per click, lead or a percentage of commission to the blog/website owner who brought in that lead via the website owners unique link.
Once logged into the website, you will be able to see your earnings, advertising programs you have joined, charts showing all your stats and much more.
I am currently in university, 21, and this will be my first risky business venture, so trying to get as much research together as possible and people who would be interested in joining if it were good, easy to use, and did have relevant advertisers.
PLEASE FILL IN THIS VERY FAST 5 Question Survey: http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/5TCP5D7
Sorry for the long email and once again, thank you very, very much for taking the time to read and answer the survey!
If you ever need any help with anything just let me know, or want to tweet each other, tag each other in Facebook ect and so on.
Thanks Again
Charles Leahy
charlesleahy@gmail.com