I’ve just got back from a Mum’s On Tour weekend in
Copenhagen and, yes, it was wonderful.
Wonderful to stroll round the streets of a strange city with no husbands
or kids in tow, although there was the slight whiff of mother guilt and the occasional
panicked look as if one of us had forgotten something, we didn’t let it spoil
our enjoyment.
The group of mums who attend these sneaky city breaks are
the same ones who have been going since our little angels were in junior school
together, and will be celebrating their Tenth Anniversary Tour next year with a
totally indulgent and slightly more ambitious New York jaunt.
I was on the inaugural tour to Barcelona, which took two
weeks and a shed full of Milk Thistle to recover from. Oh yes, we do all the
cultural stuff but we do let our hair down as only mums on the loose can do.
I’ve got a good excuse for missing the rest of the tours, as
an Easy Jet hop to Europe becomes a whole different matter when one is
travelling from the U.A.E. Undeterred they forged on to numerous cities without
me, although I was always kindly included in the emails, just in case.
These are the same friends that have welcomed me back into
their fold after my years of exile in Dubai and I was finally able to respond
to the last email with a resounding “Yes!” Which is how I ended up with them
all in Copenhagen.
Reminding them of my existence every year I spent away
became my cunning plan to make sure I was not forgotten. I managed to catch up with
most of them during summer visits to the U.K while on a mission to escape the
oppressive heat of the season in Dubai. And yes- we used to moan about the heat
over there the way we moan about the lack of it over here, which just goes to
show how we like to moan about the weather whatever it’s doing.
Is it possible to use this cunning plan in reverse with the
friends I made over there? How easy is it to keep those friendships going from
seven thousand miles away? Every year as an expat means another friend lost and
in that transient expat society friendship risks being a commodity that can be
traded on a whim. Gathering 300 plus ‘friends’ on social networking sights
renders the term almost ineffectual, especially when those friends are lost
almost as quickly as they are gained. Shedding old pals past their sell by date
is as easy as hover, click, delete. Gone.
The flip side of this two faced coin is the incredible
friendships that are made in the strangely superficial expat society. Without
family around, the alliances formed are fiercely intense. Bypassing the organic
methods of friendship development, expats grab onto each other very quickly as
crewmembers of the same boat they’ve been thrown into.
However, without history to back these relationships up, they can be
dumped sometimes quicker than they are made. It takes a lot of effort to keep
in touch, and there’s a whole heap of truth in that old saying “Out of sight,
out of mind”. Promises made in the heat of the sun can get easily forgotten in
the cold light of a grey UK day, so I hope I can keep up the effort too, as I
couldn’t have got through the last six years without those precious pals.
Cunning plans aside, some friendships run out of steam of
their own accord, where as others appear to be forcibly ejected, sometimes
without obvious reason. Emails go unanswered as your usefulness runs out.
You’re on the old friend shelf, as the light shines on someone else.
It’s hard to explain to our kids about the shifting dynamics
of the bonds that draw us to another, especially when they see that adults still
have to deal with playground politics even at our ripe old ages. I’ve seen fickle
friendships end on the base of one misplaced comment. One minute you’re having
coffee and the next you’re a victim of hover, click, delete. Gone.
Next year it’s New York, so I’m stocking up on Milk Thistle
and looking forward to another Mums On Tour. With no plans to return to Dubai,
I hope I can use my cunning methods of keeping those expat friendships going
during their summer visits to the UK. (I just hope they don’t go on about the
weather).
After all, as my Copenhagen comrades have demonstrated, a
good friend is for life. Not just for Dubai.
