Tag Archives: frustration

Damn You, Kazza!

Wineglass Bay is considered to be the most beautiful bay  / beach in the world so visiting it during our stay in Tasmania was an absolute must.

IMG_4645 My first blog post from Australia was entitled: Not a Kazza in Sight! That turned out to not exactly be true. Kazza definitely came along for the ride. We managed to keep her in abeyance a lot of the time but we couldn’t help her coming to the fore from time to time.

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You see climbing up a mountain(ish) pass (to Wineglass Bay Lookout) and down the other side (to the beach itself) is hard work for a girl with a breathing problem but even worse for a girl with a competition problem. I constantly compete with myself (and some would say others too) and consequently get quite frankly pissed off with myself if I can’t do things. Which we all know is of course ridiculous!

IMG_4674So getting upset that I struggled to walk up a steep hill when I could barely walk to the end of the road this time last year is crazy. Getting upset because I was exhausted at the end of an 11km walk is also ridiculous but I just can’t stand to fail. I can’t stand to admit that I am not invincible which of course is how we got into this stupid mess, September 2013!

Australia was spectacular and was without doubt a holiday of a lifetime – I will always remember pretty much everything we did over those three incredible weeks. Every day brought a new adventure and a new sight that was unforgettable.

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The consequence of this incredible holiday from a health perspective however is that I returned exhausted. My week off to recover afterwards barely touch the sides of my exhaustion (largely because I filled it with activity everyday!). My week off rather than constituting doing nothing, constituted doing lots just not running! That, I convinced myself was a week off.

I had begun to recover and had even done a successful yoga class when our shipment arrived. This involved two solid days of hard work lifting and carrying and packing of boxes. Without leaving my house, I managed to accrue the guts of 20,000 steps a day and burned about 4000 calories! This was not what my body needed. We won’t even get into the psychological impact of lots of wedding presents getting smashed!

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Of course mixed into all of this was more issues with our washing machine which I of course had to deal with while still trying to direct hundreds of boxes to vaguely correct rooms around the house! Exhausting both physically and mentally.

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Note water gushing over the top!

Of course that washing machine repair failed (shock horror) and so it required, a few days later, another fight with a plumber over the course of three hours that water shouldn’t be dripping out of the hose pipe that, unlike what he claimed,- this was not ‘normal’. Every failed attempt to get me to agree that the leaking hose was fixed led to a phone call to his boss and every conversation started with him in Marathi / Hindi explaining that, ‘mam says there is a leak but there is no leak’ quickly followed by my saying (in English), ‘don’t say there is no leak when there is a leak!’ His boss seemed to inform him each time to fix it again! We got there in the end but it did take three hours! Once again, mentally exhausting.

Now that little adventure was followed by my deciding I would get a guy in to clean my windows inside and out. They were beyond filthy – still covered in the construction dust from when they were built a year ago. In places, it was difficult to even see out the window! I agreed to a price and when he would come. I didn’t on the other hand grasp the fact that it would take about 6 guys and about 9 hours of work (over two days) inside in the house and another 2 days to clean the outside of the apartment (on ropes from the roof!). Why would I ever have considered that it would take this long?! Sure our apartment is big but good lord it’s not that big!

While the guys are here, you have to hang around – I can’t exactly leave them unsupervised but it means you can’t really rest. I feel too uncomfortable with having people in to do such jobs to lie on the sofa and watch TV or with them moving around the whole time – go to bed for a few hours. So I continue to potter about, convincing myself that unpacking those boxes or carrying that heavy load is ok when really I am doing exactly the thing I shouldn’t be doing!

These adventures of course are unusual. They are in addition to the everyday challenges that you are faced with here. Where can I buy fruit? Where can I buy vegetables? Where can I buy meat? When will these places be open? When will I have the car to go and get them? What price am I willing to buy the rickshaw driver who is trying to rip me off? Where can I get big black bags for the dustbin when all I can find are little ones? Where do I find cat litter that isn’t vile and disgusting because the cats are hating what I got for them!? Where? When? How?

Over the last week therefore I can categorically say I have begun to feel again the way I did 18 months ago. I am reminded again about the difference between fatigue and tiredness. I am not really tired, I am seriously fatigued. A blog, many months ago now, talked about how I had to walk the tight rope between doing too little and doing too much. Too little and I would make myself too physically unfit to deal with my illness and psychologically do damage by isolating myself from the world but equally doing too much would make me physically more ill and make it harder for me to psychologically deal with my illness (my brain gets tired just like my body does).

cropped-20140318-0801571.jpgThe tightrope is back and once again nobody has given me any safety ropes. While I feel I am in a much better position than I was back then, it does without question scare me. This feels like the worst relapse I have had since I seemed at least on the outside ‘to be better’. Just like I coped before I can cope again.

And here, far more than back in the UK, will help me recover. Here, I have lovely Maggie who comes and cleans my house. The weather is warm and that always helps. I don’t have the pressure of trying to return to work. I can cheat and buy my meat from a 5 star hotel and order my vegetables online (even if the price and quality isn’t the same as buying them elsewhere). I have a driver so I don’t have to worry about not being able to drive or getting the energy together to use public transport. There is also an incredibly supportive group of people here that will help me to look after myself (just like I had back in the UK).

So, rather than seeing my current state has something traumatic and worrying, I see it rather more as a warning, a reminder of where I have come from and where with very little trouble I can go back to if I am not careful. So I will be careful (well, I will at least try).

I didn’t write this blog to worry people but more as my way of saying – ‘Please, those who have been on Karen Duty in the past, can you return to your posts’ and ‘those who are new to Karen Duty, can you please look out for me and be bossy and tell me off for doing too much and understand if I don’t do as much as I was.’

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‘Mam, yes, mam’ Ahhh!!

Okay, time for some realism here. Most of my blogs have been so positive and so determined because, well frankly, that is the sort of person I am. I always do my best to see the positive side of everything. Yes, I’ll have a quick moan but then on I’ll go seeing the silver lining. Sometimes, however, that is quite frankly bullshit! Sometimes, it is damn hard to deal with things. Sometimes, it is easy to forget that there is always a silver lining.Expat

During our cultural training for our move to India, we were warned. ‘Chris will start working in what is in relative terms a situation he is accustomed too. There will be certain recognition of how things work and what the hierarchy of control etc is. The wife on the other hand (aka me!) will be dropped into an entirely new world with the expectation that they will just get on!’ While at the same time, the understanding is that the wife is having the easy life – going for lunch, lounging around all day – because she is not gainfully employed.

While this may eventually be the situation that I find myself in, at times it does not feel that way at all.

So what is my moan about? I guess it is simple: nothing is easy here to organise. You understand that before you come here. You listen in your cultural training; you are aware of the stereotype of the Indian who never gets things done on time but I don’t think you really get it until well you are dumped in the middle of it and simply expected to ‘just get on’!

For days it feels like I have been sat at home waiting for people to arrive. The typical, ‘Mam, we will be with you in morning’, ‘Will you definitely?’ ‘Oh yes, mam!’ so you wait in all morning, waiting for them to come and guess what they don’t turn up. So you call them. ‘Mam, we will be there half hour, definitely, half hour mam’. Five hours later they turn up or possibly don’t turn up at all. So you have spent your whole day waiting around for this person. A whole day stuck in an apartment, which possibly like today has no food in it but I can’t go shopping because I’m waiting for my maid, who on her first day is at the moment 30 minutes late!

It is one thing when you are waiting for one trade / service but for days now I have been waiting for very many. Right now, I am waiting for my maid, a washing machine installer, an electrician and a dishwasher repairman. The washing machine installer and the dishwasher repairman all promised me they would come yesterday, having promised this for the proceeding 3 days. The electricians when they came yesterday promised me they would be right back with the part needed to fix the lights – guess what? They never returned!

Of course, assuming these people do eventually arrive you are faced with another problem – not one that is particularly the fault of the people who have come but it still makes life incredibly difficult and stressful. The problem is most speak no or very, very little English. This is not their fault. These people are probably not very educated and have neither the time nor money to learn English as an adult but it makes it very, very hard.

Of course, they usually hunt in pairs and stand there speaking Hindi / Marathi to each other in long detailed conversations and the turn around and say, ‘Mam, everything t.k (OK)’ while doing the typical Indian head wobble (seriously it does exist and it is everywhere).

While it may be true that everything is t.k. but it also may not be but how are you to know? Indians hate to disappoint you; they are desperate at all times to make sure you are happy and satisfied, even if that means telling blatant mistruths. There is a certain sweetness to this but god it can be very stressful and very confusing.

Sometimes when the conversation needs to go beyond a head wobble and a ‘Mam, everything t.k (OK)’, a phone call is made to an English speaker so they can translate. Problem is, nine times out of ten, it is impossible to understand a single word this person says. You’re better off with the person in front of you and sign language! The person always speaks so fast with such a strong Indian accent that it just is not feasible to understand them. This even goes for those who are perfectly understandable face to face. This inevitable leads to you handing the phone back to the person who then leaves and leaves you none the wiser.

I will be honest, the above is annoying but really not the fault of the person who has come to do a job for you. What is annoying, is the platitudes! Back to the refusal to disappoint or lose face. More than once I have had to leave a person and stand around the corner where I can’t be seen and inwardly scream while jumping up and down. The alternative is to shout at them and that, quite frankly, will not help anyone.

It is excuse after excuse after excuse. My maid has just explained her half hour lateness by, ‘they held me at security’; which is probably very true but when I asked her for how long, it was for fifteen minutes. So, she was already fifteen minutes late. Now I know she comes from a long way on a hot bus so I am not being mean but it is her first day! If she is fifteen minutes late, that is not a crisis but you are honest about the reason why. If she is late, she just stays the fifteen minutes at the end! No big deal.

The realtor’s representative who works for the society as well is the worst case. He speaks very good English, is immaculately dressed and on first meeting seems efficient and on top of things. However, once the plans begin to unravel he becomes the platitude king. Any excuse is given, any positive slant on the situation is found, anything other than to be honest about the situation.

You know to expect this but when you experience it time after time after time and you are alone in your apartment trying to deal with it all – it is not easy. I don’t think in the long-run my husband has a better deal than I do: the exact opposite in fact but I think until things settle down and all the ridiculous paperwork is completed (don’t get me started on that – that is for an entirely different blog – let’s just say yesterday, Chris and I got 24 passport  each printed. We think that will be enough for a few days.) then my life will in general terms be very nice. Until then it is hard work both mentally and physically.burn_calories

To give you an idea about how hard work it is. I generally burn 2500 calories a day 2800 or so if I exercise. Since I moved into our apartment it is more like 3500 or more! It is all the cleaning that is needed; the running up and down trying to get things sorted; going to the Facilities Management office to try and get things done etc. I wouldn’t have thought it feasible to be so active while still feeling like you are achieving absolutely nothing!

Now, I said at the start that sometimes it is quite frankly impossible to see the silver lining in a situation. Well, maybe that is not quite the truth! You see, last Tuesday I had such a lovely day out with some new friends and made some lovely new friends as well.

The m11313145_10206593499059165_1030394388001712301_oorning started with a visit to a friend’s house where her maid dressed us in beautiful sarees, then lunch at a lovely hotel followed by an afternoon / evening on the terrace of somebody else’s apartment with my feet in a huge washtub of water. It was fun, relaxing and just nice to get away from reality for a bit. It helped 11156296_10152896590587992_1230909227398388954_nto remind me that this move is not about trying to get the dishwasher fixed or trying to organise a maid but about experiencing life in a way that I could not at home. And dealing with all the stress of workmen and sitting on a terrace drinking sparkling wine with my feet in a washtub is also an experience of life I would not have at home.

So that is my silver lining. It does exist after all!

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