The Expat Lady

She is privileged, spoilt (in the best possible way of course), and incredibly cocooned from the reality of the life around her. She is the Expat lady.

She may not have started life this way. She could have come from a small country town where she grew up with a childhood sweetheart. Perhaps it didn’t last past high school and she met the man who brought her here at college. Or maybe they met on a train. Or maybe her sweetheart took her with him as he made his way through life and up the corporate ladder. It doesn’t really matter how she got here.

One day she woke up in this strange land full of wild, frightening new experiences. Some pleasurable. Some downright scary. She was horrified when she saw her first gecko scurrying across the roof. What sort of country is this where lizards live inside the house, she cried. But she soon got used to them after the maid explained that they eat the myriad insects that fly around the house.

The maid. Ah, that wonderful invention; the maid. Where would she be without this paragon of virtue? A maid gives her time to indulge in all sorts of pastimes she could never partake of back home. There is Women’s Club; there’s one for almost every nationality living here. Then there are the parties, the bingo nights, the card nights, the special dances, the charity balls, the charity events. The list is endless. All designed to keep her busy. If she didn’t have them, what would her life be?

Of course, having a maid in the house took a bit of getting used to. Not everyone knows how to make the transition easily either. After all, here is another woman in the house who does the housekeeping, washing, ironing, cooking and all the other little things that she used to do. But the maid never does it exactly right, does she? At least, not until our Lady has trained the maid to her own exacting standards.

And what about her husband? Well, he is the breadwinner. He has to go out to work every day, leaving our expat Lady alone in the house. But his company has provided a car and driver. Once husband has been deposited at the office, the driver returns to pick up the lady and transport her to one of her many appointments. There’s the shopping, perhaps a luncheon with other executive expat wives. Or she might go to the beauty parlour for a few hours. There is never any shortage of things to do.

Except one. She no longer spends much time with her husband. He’s working, or at business meetings that might last well into the night. So, this poor lonely woman looks for ways to keep busy all the time. She doesn’t have time to notice what’s really going on around her.

Oh, she goes to The Siam Society to immerse herself in Thai culture. Or she might take Thai cooking lessons with Mrs Balbir. Those are always fun, and you get to eat the results. There’s an incentive to be a good cook, or end up food poisoning yourself!

The only time she sees her husband is when they have to go to business functions together. Or perhaps for a game of golf or tennis on the weekend….if she’s lucky.

But what is husband doing all the time when he’s not actually at the office or at home, she wonders. That gets her worried. There are so many beautiful Thai women around. My husband is a man. But he’s a good man. Surely he wouldn’t be tempted?

Once this thought gets inside her head it’s hard to stop it gnawing at her. She visits him at his office. His secretary is sweet, respectful, and so very damn beautiful. Yet he doesn’t notice….or does he? How does his wife know what he does when she is not there?

Then those long business dinners inevitably have him arriving home drunk, smelling of cigarette smoke and sometimes a suspicious perfume. But he assures her that she merely smells the perfumed soap they supply in the men’s rooms. She accepts that.

She drifts along those endless days and nights, socializing, shopping, having fun. Until one day she wakes up in the morning all alone when she shouldn’t be. Where is he? Did he leave early, she asks the maid.

No maam, he no come home last night.

Finally, a phone call. He explains that he was too drunk to get home last night so he checked into a  hotel.

But what about the driver, honey?

I sent him home early. It didn’t seem fair to keep him waiting around half the night.

And so it goes. She starts to drink to help her pass the lonely times. Sometimes she is deliriously happy. Other times she is depressed. The days merge into a grey fog of sameness. Until one day she realizes her husband hasn't been home for a week.

When he finally arrives he doesn't look at her; merely grunts and heads for the drinks cabinet. He pours two stiff drinks and hands one to her. Sit down, he tells her. I have something to talk to you about.

She sits, looking up at him expectantly. Has he been promoted? Are they going home at last?

He takes a large gulp of his drink and blurts out that he is leaving her. He has already booked a ticket for her to return home. She will have a good settlement from him. He no longer wants her staying here.

Why? She asks, why?

Because I want to live with my secretary. Or it could be a girl he met in a bar. Perhaps he met her at a business party. It doesn't matter. He loves her now and he can't keep wife here any more. So sorry. Good bye. The end of yet another expat marriage.

© Mark Holt. All rights reserved by the author.