Two years in…

Well I certainly didn’t know at the time just how fitting it was that I should land back in the UK to begin a new life in Yorkshire on Yorkshire Day, which is observed every 1 August.

Things I know about Yorkshire include it is the largest county in England and the Yorkshire pudding, in my opinion, can be eaten with all kinds of roast dinner not just beef and also as a dessert with golden syrup. I was a bit skeptical at first when told about that one by Husband but find it far more convincing than the fruit cake and cheese combo, which again finds its roots in Yorkshire (and Lancashire). We all have our culinary foibles as I’m constantly reminded by the friend who cannot abide the even further Up North delight of curry, fried rice and chips IN ONE CARTON. Double carbs apparently.

So here we are, two years into this next stage of our lives. Two years that have gone by so fast. As time often does with young children in the mix. In the beginning, I was keen to document the experience of repatriation against expatriation but very soon after my return, too soon, my Dad, Mr Li passed away and that changed many things. That first year of transition wasn’t just about adapting myself back to the UK but about adapting to a life that could not be planned for. If I’m honest, I will always feel great sadness that time could not have been a little kinder, as I tell myself that it’s fortunate that I was able to be here at all.

I have also had to come to terms with not being able to share with my Dad, Mr Li all the new things that we have done but as I think about it now, I’m not really sure he’d approve of all our new adventures. Yorkshire is abundant with beautiful, natural landscapes that call out to be explored. One of our favourite places is Brimham Rocks, it’s many a child’s dream to go clambering up and over those giant rocks. I have to say, I’m a bit cautious and not one for bounding gazelle like up great heights but had my Dad, Mr Li seen photographic evidence of what appears to be his grandchildren veering dangerously close to a sharp drop, well…let’s not imagine that conversation!

I’ve often been told that ‘going home’ must be a lot easier than going somewhere new. It isn’t. Quite the opposite in fact. When you go somewhere new, there’s a high chance that you’ll find many other people who are in the same position as you. There are social media groups to connect you and just people who have been there and understand what it’s like to be a fresh Expat and who will happily signpost you to where to find your feet.

With ‘coming home’, it is assumed you know what you’re doing because this is where you’re from. How can you possibly not know how things all work. Well, I can safely say that you easily can.

I moved to a new town, in a new county, (the largest in England at that) and with three extras I didn’t have before when I lived a much different life in London a decade before. There are the things that you know you should do like pay Council Tax, get wifi and a television license, find utility companies to engage with. Do you ever feel that too much choice does not make one feel more informed? I’d just come from a country where there was The utility provider and here there’s a long list and different combinations and lots of jargon. How do you choose? By picking a name out of a hat that you like the sound of?

And the Post Office. Well, there isn’t really a Post Office in my new home town anymore but when there was, who knew that if you missed a post delivery, you don’t just take your missed delivery card to the Post Office, you have to find the Royal Mail depot and the two are not connected. I did not know that. And Woolworths is no more and Argos is at big Sainsbury’s and Screw Fix is where you go and buy home fixing things but you don’t go and find it yourself in an aisle and you fill out a form and pass it to the person behind the counter and they disappear and go get it.

And then there’s Aldi. I do love an Aldi. But when you’ve done nine year’s of supermarket shopping where they pack your shopping for you, it’s enough to remember that in the UK you have to pack your own shopping. As you idly watch it pile up at the bottom of the conveyor belt, wondering why the Check Out person is taking their time packing up your groceries.  Then suddenly, you ping to and start sheepishly getting a move on whilst they in turn are wondering why you are busy naval gazing. At least I remembered the packing of one’s own groceries at my inaugural Aldi shop. But the Check Out person was going at such a pace with the scan and drop of items that I couldn’t keep up and it was quite a flustering experience and then having to be told that the correct form in Aldi is to go to that designated space over there where you are meant to pack your groceries at your leisure! Well, I never. And so now it’s become a satisfying win if I manage to bag up as we go along. You’ve got to take the small victories as they come.

When you’re over there, you want to be over here and now that you’re over here, you want to be over there.

Perhaps not quite like that. Though sometimes you feel a pull of nostalgia and you start thinking about the things you miss about your old life. Time and piles of dirty laundry makes you look back at things through rose tinted glasses so that you forget what it’s like to sweat all day long, lament the price of brocolli and wine and fear the uprising of the house ant.

Food and the wide variety of food, is among the top things I miss the most from Singapore. I have been spoilt for food choices and my tastes buds are bereft.  When I was over there, I’d be thinking about fresh cream chocolate eclairs, smoky bacon crisps and chips and gravy; all of which I’d devour in abundance on every trip back. Now, I think a good laksa, mee siam, spicy ramen noodles and know that I’m not going to see the likes again until I’m next in Asia. Even #1, 2 and 3 have a discerning palate when it comes to getting their favourite chicken rice dish down to ‘acceptable’ levels. Finally, after many attempts, I’m pretty sure I do a good version of it but it will never be quite the same. In much the same way that you could never quite replicate some dishes from home whilst abroad.

I also at times miss the freedom the luxury of home help afforded you. An extra pair of hands at home reduced the juggling of childcare when back in gainful employment, it allowed for spontaneity and the flexibility to try out new things and learn new skills. You think you’re looking after your own household but really there’s someone else there helping you tidy up the bits and bobs. I’ll admit that the idea of returning to a life where home help is not the norm puts a certain amount of fear into you. How are you going to get everything done when you haven’t had to do all the jobs yourself before? I know it may sound ridiculous and precious to your ears but that was how it worked. Initially I felt embarrassed at having home help but I am thankful that there was the opportunity to have someone to relieve you, especially in the absence of having any family nearby. There is however a trade off, and whilst I am now fully acquainted with a washing machine, iron and the inside of the oven, I like the freedom of having the whole house (albeit an unruly one) all to ourselves.

The practicalities of expatriation and repatriation is really a great long To Do List. An overwhelming To Do List of unavoidable tasks that need to be tackled. You will be busy finding somewhere to live, getting mobile again, sorting out new schools and waiting for your worldly goods to arrive. The disruption is a nuisance when you want your ordered life back and your things of comfort. So that by the time they do arrive and your house starts resembling a home, you feel thankful for it after spending a couple of months just getting by that you already want to grumble less.

You can be as organised as you like with the practicalities of expatriation and repatriation but there are elements you can’t move along any faster than when they happen. And that is how to fill the silence of your new days. I’ve experienced it both ways now. The next time someone tells you that they haven’t spoken to anyone else bar the Check Out person is no exaggeration. Sometimes you like those days. Other days you wonder whether you’re ever going to meet anyone who gets you or have those conversations that make you hoot with laughter and allow you to express yourself freely. It’s a hard slog finding those people.  As much as you think you won’t find them but they are there and you have to do your bit by putting in the effort too and keeping an open mind.

I recently heard a saying that went, ‘nobody will wave but someone will always wave back.’

How true. You have to put yourself out there and I’m quite adept at that now. I am also not afraid to say I don’t really know what’s going on because there’s always someone else who does and who are kind enough to tell you what’s what. And that’s the other thing I know. In every circle you move into, you will find people who are inherently kind, encompassing people and it takes just one of them to help you open the door into a new community whilst you find your feet. Then you meet another and another and soon before you know it, the early days of long silences broken up only by ‘that’ll be £16.80 please’ are replaced by coffee, play dates, lunch, long walks, dinner, wine, spa sessions, BBQs, picnics, day trips and even to holidays together. All in the space of two years.

Upheaving #1, 2 and 3 when we did was just at the right age. I think any older then we’d be facing a different set of challenges. They, like us, are also wondering whether they’ll meet new friends. And they, far quicker than us, always do. I’m very happy with how much they love their new home because unlike us, these tropical children have never lived in the UK before and I probably can understand their protest at what kind of weather we’ve brought them back to. But they are resilient and they have adapted well and I am very proud of them. Though I am also sad for them that their new UK life is different to how we would have wanted with the loss of two Grandparents who would have loved the chance to see more of them.

That also brings me to think about family again. I’ve said it before in a previous post that I can’t imagine being anywhere else but here among those people who have known you so long and share your childhood, your back story and who have had a hand in shaping who you are. They are the ones that provide you with the greatest comfort. Even after a decade apart, I don’t think any of us can help but regress to our former childlike selves when you’re with your family which is pretty fun for a short while and then you can retreat back home a couple of hours drive down the road.

In the absence of my Dad, Mr Li, it is with the love and presence of my Mum, my Uncle, my many cousins and all my nearly nephews and nieces that have made me feel less alone in my grief. For that reason alone, I am glad to be back and to be able to share lots of family occasions and for #1, 2 and 3 to build those strong family ties that they will always have in years to come.

And so, after two years of living my new UK life, I can honestly say I really like it. It has been hard work and exhausting but I’m leveling it out now. I’m no longer the newbie person. I love all the new places we’ve been to and I like thinking about those yet to be seen. I am hugely thankful for the friends I’ve made as well as being able to keep hold of the old ones. The two groups have yet to meet each other though, they don’t need to nod in agreement with other at the things I do. At one time, the idea of having to find and make new friends made me want to throw a tantrum. I liked the friends I already had. I didn’t need new ones. But how incredibly naive that idea turned out to be.

There will always be a part of me that won’t feel quite settled though and that’s no bad thing. If the stars aligned and an opportunity arose, would we take it? Yes, we would.

Are we looking for it? No, not right now.