"Silent House"

I feel the need to launch this post with a bit of fair warning. So here it is, Fair Warning.

I'm not going to tell some funny story about life in Lagos. I would love to tell a nice story about a woman who was my friend years ago and how blessed I am to travel the world and meet amazing women every single day. Because I do. I meet amazing women every day; women who do what I'm doing - follow their spouses around the world, raise babies in countries that are not their own, leave friends, parents, siblings and grandparents behind and cling desperately to other women who understand this delicate dance we all do. The one that balances a love of adventure with an inner sadness and longing for loved ones left behind.

Several years ago when I lived in Australia, I spent most of my time with an amazing group of female friends. Most were expats like me from all over the world but many were Australian. We were almost exclusively all new mothers who met through playgroups or expat social groups. Australian or not, most of us were in a very new phase of life; not working and raising babies. It was a wonderful time filled with collective groans and giggles. We shared every drama - big and small. Poop and puke, crushing fatigue and countless champagne playdates. We watched each other go from being pregnant to being post-pregnant to getting pregnant again. One of my friends lost her husband. Another lost her mother. Some went back to work. We shared everything. The hardest part was slowly watching our group disband as one by one, the spouses' jobs taking us away from eachother and on to the next adventure.

Rachel was a woman who joined our group about a year into our assignment. She had a very little baby and a husband who worked most of the time. My friend Becka found her and quickly brought her into the fold. I think I can actually recall her saying, "this girl needs us". But Hell, we all needed each other. Her situation was not unique. We had all jumped on a 20 hour flight with babies and a spouse whose only purpose in the country was to work. She was funny. She was kooky. She had a lot of amazing stories about her "old life". She had had a whirlwind romance with her husband and like most women in their late 30s, jammed a wedding, a baby, and a move into a 3 month period. Again, it wasn't uncommon to meet someone in her circumstances.

It was uncommon, it seems now, that said husband gave her grief over a much needed Girls' Night Out. He spent his free time making low budget independent films because he wanted to go back to CA and be a film director, ditching his lucrative consulting career. He spent an obscene amount of money bringing his vintage mustang to Australia but seemed upset if Rachel spent too much having coffee with us. If memory serves, I think he gave her an allowance because she didn't have a bank card - even after several months of living in Melbourne.

After I left Australia, I threw myself back into my career and being a working mother. Work, soccer, girl scouts, birthday parties, PTO. Everyone has been there and everyone knows how it sucks you in. Email and facebook were my primary means of keeping in touch with my old crew - who I missed desperately. I saw a few girls at a reunion weekend in Tampa and Savannah but like most situations - summer camp, college, trips abroad; you can really only stay connected with a fraction of your original group. People, do eventually return to their "old life". 

Rachel had two more children, and in a very short amount of time. Her Facebook posts were always about the children and many of her pictures were self-portraits made with her camera phone. Glancing quickly (as one does in a culture driven by facebook posts), it never occurred to me that her husband was rarely in the photos or taking them for that matter. Everything was about those kids; 3 under 4 years old. As usual I assumed she was doing what the rest of us were doing -  treading water and just trying to be the best parents we can. The rest will work out later right?

Last week, Becka told me that Rachel's husband killed her. He actually stabbed her. With scissors. In their home. With those poor babies in the house. This happened in February - over 6 months ago. 

My reaction to this news has changed daily. Probably hourly. How could we not have heard sooner? Why didn't we talk more? Why didn't she him leave sooner? How did we not see that man as the cowardly piece of filth that he is? Why didn't she lean on a friend? Who were her friends? How come they didn't see it? Why didn't we? How in God's name do you not see someone is truly, desperately in danger like that?

Her Facebook page still exists. I find myself going there looking for clues. Looking at pictures of Rachel's "old life". From before.

But all I see are heartfelt notes of people that loved her and miss her. 

Rachel's Childrens Fund 

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"Ride"

Earlier this week I was asked by a senior executive at E's company to show a potentially new expat couple around Lagos. They are here on what we call the "looksee" visit; the employee hasn't accepted the position yet and they are basically here to check out life in Lagos. This is different than the Preview Visit we made last February; we were already locked in and essentially coming over to inspect the housing, interview at the kids' school and meet E's team. The Company reached out to me in part because of my new volunteer gig but also because my friend Diane, who is the usual go-to for the "cool city tour" (and totally sold me on Lagos) was busy and suggested I fill in for her. 

Obviously, I am flattered. I am flattered that anyone would think that after 6 months (2 of which were spent elsewhere)  I have any clue as to where to take someone consider moving to Lagos - and successfully sell them on it! Yes, I embrace this life and do my best to find the silver lining in what many people think might be a miserable existence. But that is me. That is how I operate. I see a pile of trash on the street and think, "I'll blog this and discuss the environmental impacts of an overpopulated metropolis!" If I see a naked baby playing with a bucket, I realize she actually has a village of parents within arm's reach; they just happen to run a make-shift car wash. If I see graffiti on a building advertising a plumber, I think, "well at least he is making good use of his vandalism instead of cursing". I just choose to see things differently here. If I don't, I will lay awake at night wondering how to get that naked baby some clothes - and every impoverished child I see.

I don't know much about the couple that is visiting, which is unfortunate. If someone told me they had done four expat assignments before this, then I would have a very specific type of tour in mind - health clubs, social clubs, the beach houses, charitable organizations. We could sit in one of the many high-end restaurants and talk through what lagos is like, compare and contrast it to prior assignments especially since at least one may have been a "hardship" assignment. A short tour and a cool art gallery and all would be well. But if this is their first assignment, their first time living outside their home country (which I'm not sure is the US)? Then I seriously have my work cut out for me!

In the spirit of research, I decided to investigate some parts of Lagos that I know have a lot to offer but I haven't had time to explore for myself. Once you find your routine, it's very easy to stick to the routes you know and can rely on. If this is their first assignment, then it's not entirely lame to show someone where you grocery shop, leave your dry cleaning, get your hair done. At least you are showing them that they don't have to leave normal life behind. But I'm sure they don't want the 10 cent tour either (or the 2 kobo tour for that matter - har har!). I just want to show them there is more to Lagos than searching for your favorite salsa.

When Diane took me on my tour (well her tour), she brought me to some amazing art galleries and shops that promoted local artists. I plan to hit a few of Diane's favorite spots but also some gems I found on my little adventure - a high-end gift shop that has couture gowns and a champagne/coffee bar, a gorgeous little patio restaurant with outdoor seating (on grass!) and a coffee bar that also sells their own beans, and our latest escape - a resort style pool club set against the lagoon.

I think the hardest part is dealing with the time in between. You really can't walk anywhere in the city. Parking can be difficult and even the nicest places have horrible curb appeal. (I often think some of my favorite shops have closed down until I open the front door). When I made my list of places worth showing a visitor, there were a surprising number of cool spots. Unfortunately you just can't see them all in one afternoon. Traffic is always an issue and many of the streets are in a constant state of repair which makes one 'road weary' all too soon. 

You have to go out and go out frequently, always looking and exploring. Hopefully my leg work will pay off and my guests can just sit back and enjoy the ride.

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"Happy Birthday"

This weekend we celebrated my 39th birthday. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I really am 39 and not just saying I'm 39 because I am actually 43! I totally embrace 39 and have been telling E and my friends that instead of a single day, I want to spend the next year partying my way into the big 4-0. My college friends from the states have already started the planning process for next summer when we all be 40 within a few months of each other. My friend Kristen used to be the one that was furthest away - always in California whilst the rest of us were on or near the East Coast. This time I thought I would get the award for traveling the farthest. I mean I do live in Africa no? Apparently Kristen has decided to move to Bali. Humpf!

Regardless, 39 turned out better than I thought. I had a little pool party with some of my mommy friends and their kids (complete with champagne and juice boxes), cake and more champagne w E and the kids and another Girls' Night Out at a rooftop terrace in Lagos. I am generally thankful that in a few short months I have made enough friends here to actually organize a Girl's Night Out. Even better, they are the kind of friends you can have champagne with at a 4 o'clock playdate and no one raises an eyebrow! 

E and I have not been very big on traditional presents the past few years. It seems like we are always on one side or another of some major transition - moving to, moving back, moving in; so our presents tend to get lost in the shuffle. Years ago, when we owned our first house E asked me what I wanted for Valentine's Day -  I asked for a coffee table. We hadn't had a proper coffee table in months and I refused to have people over until we did. When I was 30, I indulged in a spa weekend with the college girls in Connecticut, at 35 we pulled it off again at a seaside resort in New Hampshire. A few years ago we opted for Boca Raton. One year I think E's birthday present was a railride on the famous Ghan from Melbourne to Adelaide where he hunted down the elusive "Meat Pie Floater". I've asked for flights to Boston, gym memberships, concert tickets, even a crockpot. I've bought E everything from new knives, to a Vitamix blender, to the entire James Bond ultimate DVD collection (21 discs: Dr. No to Casino Royale - very cool).

Before we moved to Lagos, we bought an obscene amount of things. Correction - I bought an obscene amount of things. So there is very little I feel like either of us needs. And since our bucket list just keeps getting longer and we have an amazing opportunity to actually check some of those places of our list, we've decided to invest in experiences, not stuff. In just a few weeks we are indulging in a 10 day trip to Cape Town, South Africa. E has booked us into a gorgeous boutique hotel on a vineyard complete with tours and activities of the surrounding area - Table Mountain National Park, Victoria & Albert Waterfront, Robben Island. The second part of our trip will be along the coast, in Hermanus where we can explore endless beaches, look for whales, and just tinker around the little towns - one of my favorite things to do. Sounds like a great way to start what I suspect will be a very full year!

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"Coffee Girl"

Just before we left Lagos for our home visit, I started talking with friends about what kind of volunteer opportunities I should look into for the fall. Since this is the first time I have had both children in full time school and not worked, it is a bit daunting to think about how to effectively fill my time. I've had glimpses of the "stay-at-home" life before; I took a short maternity leave when K was born (just 3 months!) and then a longer Leave of Absence when we moved to Australia and C was just a newborn. It was an amazing time spent with lots of other stay-at-home moms in Melbourne but I only had a few days of childcare and E often worked late so I felt exhausted most of the time with a 2 year old and a baby - and on the other side of the planet.

Fast forward 5 years and here I am again - "staying at home". Only this time I don't have babies. I prefer to call it the "expat wife life". It sounds a bit more worldly - like I might actually be learning something if only by osmosis. The great thing about the expat community is there is no shortage of volunteer opportunities. Friends suggested being on the Executive Board at the kids' school, working at a local orphanage, teaching English to street children, helping in the school library, and being a "room mother" in the children's classrooms. This last option is an automatic NO in my book - it's a horrible and thankless task that puts you between your child's teacher and every helicopter parent this side of the Delta.

Coincidentally, a friend of mine approached me about taking over her role once she and her husband relocate. She runs the Company's "onboarding" program for newly assigned expat families. Most of the big companies have a volunteer-run group like this - a "welcome wagon" if you will. It's typically run by expat spouses who assist newcomers with questions about housing, schools, food and supplies; everyday life. The group interacts with HR regarding new families, then reaches out to them upon arrival, checking in periodically to answer questions about their adjustment and lend support. They also provide information for spouses who want to work or take advantage of the company's career development programs. There is a website, a newsletter, and lots of communications about nannies and drivers for hire, safety meetings, wellness programs, and social gatherings. The position is called the "Focal Point" and serves to be just that - a point of contact that expats living in Lagos can turn to for answers to the multitude of questions that arise when living overseas.

The program has an actual office at one of the compounds (pics here) so that the Focal Point can take advantage of the company's computer programs and have a place to meet with families when they come for their "preview trip" or when they first arrive. Part of the job is to keep open office hours to faciliate communication and be available for drop-in visits. There is even a library of travel books and kids' videos - most likely underutilized since the onset of kindles and DIY vacations but it adds a bit of flair to the office.

I am told the Focal Point (and the 2-3 other volunteers) used to host monthly "coffees" in the office or at someone's flat to welcome new families and discuss life in Lagos. Honestly, that is what I have been doing for several months now - hanging out with other "trailing spouses", having a coffee, talking about Lagos - where to eat, play, shop, get your hair done. This is probably my favorite topic of conversation as I am determined to unearth all the hard to find hidden gems in this town. In fact, I really enjoy helping the other "newbies" because I know all too well how hard it can be at the onset and even later when you think you are settled in.

Overall, it felt like a good fit and after a few weeks of shadowing the current volunteer, I agreed to take it on. My first real assignment is to select my new team as the other volunteers are relocating this fall as well. Even more enticing is a training "offsite" the Company wants me to attend in October. Apparently the offsite is in Dubai. Yes, Dubai.

Not too bad for a volunteer gig!

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'Save it for later'

Since returning from our home visit, I have finally had time for some small projects around the house. The kids haven't started school yet so it's still pretty quiet around the compound. Thankfully, they seem content to just play or go to the pool - a much needed break for all of us. Since I brought heaps of stuff back from the US (uniforms, school supplies, birthday and Christmas presents, tons of shoes), the closets were overflowing and needed some purging. 

Whenever I come across clothes or shoes that the kids have outgrown, I just give them to my stewardess Venus. She either takes them for her own daughter who is older, but smaller than my daughter or she brings them to the "boys quarters" (the part of the compound many of the nannies and drivers live in) and she finds someone who needs something. I give her a lot of my things too - purses, shoes, jeans, tops. I have a ridiculous amount of work clothes that are just sitting in bins but I'm still struggling with how to part with them.

When I tackle a particularly huge project, I get a big trash bag and just start chucking stuff. Sometimes you have to be ruthless. I set aside as many little socks, tops, tees, shorts, and dresses for Venus to take but the rest was just not worth holding on to.

A day or two later, Venus humbly and politely approached me (as she always does) and asked me if I had meant to throw some things in the "bin". I looked at the pile of things and realized, with more shame than horror that she had actually fished them out of the trash. Lone socks with no partners, belts with no buckle, frayed headbands with the metal end sticking out, some really tired-looking kids underwear, even the kids' toothbrushes. I gave her a guilty-meets-innocent type of look; "Oh, did you want to bring these to the Quarters?"

Going through the pile, she explained to me her step-by-step plan for fixing and/or salvaging everything. I agreed to let her take most of it (even the coloring books where every single page was scribbled on) but told her since the kids had been sick over break, I just couldn't let her take their nasty toothbrushes. She told me she would sterilize them with the Milton liquid we use for the veggies. Even so, I showed her how the bristles were worn down but she just responded with her very polite and confident, "It's still good Madam". I mean, who can argue with that?

At one point she asked me about a pile of napkins that were actually baby wipes and had dried out long ago. I agreed to let her keep them and later noticed her using them to clean the kitchen counters. 

While I can accept there is life left in an old belt or that an underprivileged child won't care that their socks don't match, I draw the line at left-over food. Venus is a great cook and is constantly making food for us - more than we can consume. I often eat leftovers at lunch just so her hard work won't go to waste but more often than not, I encourage her to take food home that I feel won't get eaten in time. Occasionally, I pull some mysterious tupperware out of the fridge and ask her to pitch it but she consistently offers to freeze it for later, telling me yet again, "it's still good". Sometimes I think to just offer it to her but I already feel it's past the expiration date and feel guilty for even suggesting it. 

I mentioned this to a friend and she said she was shocked at how often her staff asked to take home food she was on the verge of throwing out. But she does it and just hopes no one gets ill. A neighbor of mine said his driver often wears the clothes he has given him to work, including shirts with his own monogram on them.

Yesterday, I found a tupperware container with some really soft vegetables and a fish head. Yes, a fish head. I recalled the day Venus made the fish but couldn't remember how long it had been since. If anyone knows what to do with a fish head, I'm sure it's Venus. 

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