Be warned; I’m going to come across as a bit of an expat brat right now. Now I’ve given you fair warning, I’m going to sulk and moan a bit about some of the woes of being an expat. I mean the woes, aside from eternal homesickness for various places you’ve lived (I need to find a city with the beaches and job opportunities of Dubai, the excitement and affordability of Bangkok, the laidback vibe of Amsterdam and all the friends I have in the UK – only then will I not be a tiny bit homesick, wherever I am).
I’m not talking about the woes of never being able to find Cheshire cheese or big tubs of Marmite or speciality bars of Cadbury’s, either. I can just about live without those food delicacies I was bought up with.
No, the very hardest thing about being an expat is being a tour guide for everyone you’ve ever met who decides to visit. I don’t mind opening up my home to people and letting them crash for a few nights, but I cannot stand doing the tour guide bit.
I think, after nearly a decade of being an expat, that it’s particularly annoying now because I live a Dh400 flight away from friends and family, so I’m getting a visitor every couple of weeks. On the plus side; I see people I love all the time. On the negative side, I feel like I have a side career in arranging bespoke trips around Amsterdam. Want to see the canals by night but also eat apple pie on the other side of the city? To eat Italian food somewhere nice, sunny but not too crowded? To go to brunch at midday on Sunday in the busiest part of town but not have to queue? Want to do this all on a very prohibitive budget? Please; allow me to fulfill all your needs.
No, no, please don’t apologise, I love to spend my weekends coordinating your travel plans, learning the city’s timetables and finding the ambient restaurant to suit your particular requirements. I am not Miss Amsterdam. In fact, I barely know the city yet.
It’s not even the boredom and expense of doing the tourist thing every other week. I mean, we’ve all done our fair share of padding around Madinat Jumeirah and watching the fountain displays at Burj Khalifa… fine (I mean, up to a point).
It’s the decision making I hate. It’s not in my personality. I’m a sheep when it comes to plans and I’m happy about it. Even when I’m home alone on the weekends, it’s quite the drama for me to plan what I’m going to do for the day because I’m crippled with indecision (and a bit of apathy). I usually just wait for somebody to tell me what I’m doing: “Gaby, you’re coming to meet me at this party. Here’s the address”. So, when I have to make decisions for other people, I want to retreat into my shell. Especially helpful is when I say to people “what do you want to do today?” and they say “I don’t mind”. That would be fine, IF IT WERE TRUE. But, it’s rarely true that people are so laid back when they’re travelling that they don’t have some idea of what they want to do. It’s easier if you just tell me, rather than walking around with a bored, unimpressed look on your face, as fun as that is for everyone.
All I ask is you to be a little bit independent when you come to see me; have a think about what you want to see, be brave and take public transport alone so I don’t have to come and find you halfway across the city all the time and download Google maps. It’s a small effort, but it might just save my sanity.
