Putting Things in CONTEXT
That was the text I received as I sat slump-shouldered on my bed, eyes raw and face swollen from tears. My husband had boarded a Us-bound plane for work hours earlier. My ten-yearold daughter was at school. I had moved to Singapore only three months ago and knew only a few people, none of them well enough to call for commiseration. Only the dog seemed to share my sadness as the US election results came rolling in.
The cat lounged nearby, characteristically aloof, seeming to ask, “What do you care if Trump wins? You’re the one who moved us halfway around the world, tearing me away from the only home I’ve ever known. You think flying 22 hours in economy class is hard? Try cowering in the cold, dark underbelly of a plane with a bunch of other anxious and whiny animals. And quarantine was no picnic either. You’ve got nothing to complain about, lady, so just stop your crying.”
She was right. When we left the US, we’d been riding on a political high for eight years. We were proud Chicagoans witnessing the country’s first black President poised to pass the baton to the country’s first female President. We had sold our home of 16 years in the leafy, northern suburbs, one we’d only recently finished renovating. We’d pulled away from friends who knew us well and miraculously still liked us. We’d left hobbies, schedules and the comfortable lifestyle we had so carefully constructed. Sold our car. Sadly parted from two older children who would remain in the States for school, as we embarked on this Southeast Asian adventure with no re-entry plan in place. This was no two-year stint with a global company and its long track record of moving expats around the world. This was a leap of faith with a new venture that could either take off, in which case we could be in Singapore indefinitely, or tank, in which case we might be ushered out of the country with our tails between our legs.
We had expected the US election to turn out differently. We’d also hoped that our overseas move would be a great success. But what if we were wrong about both? With Trump building walls and pointing accusing fingers, did we stand a chance of connecting with our new neighbours, who might justifiably wonder whether we shared Trump’s views? Would we have to pick up stakes sooner, not later, and force the animals back into a plane headed home to a country we didn’t know as well as we thought we did?
As I pondered these questions, I glanced back at the text message from a person who, it suddenly dawned on me, might be my first friend in Singapore. Did I want to join her for a misery-enjoys-company drink? I most definitely did.
“Want to come over tonight for a miseryenjoys-company drink?”