Insha'Allah

Many of my friends from home are fascinated with what my day is consumed with here in the Magic Kingdom.

Our lives here can be summed up Insha’Allah. This is an Arabic term to indicate hope for an aforementioned event to occur in the future. The phrase translates into English as "God willing" or "If it is God's will".

This term can also ironically mean not on your bloody life when used sarcastically. The key is beginning to read the subtle nuances of the person delivering the comment.

Most expats here have grown to loath the saying. I have tried to embrace it to the best of my abilities, holding fast to the deeper meaning behind it, when things go for shit in the Magic Kingdom, which happens in the business world more often than not.

Never before have I seen a non-bribery clause in a contract between agency and client.

When the agency then violates the contract by bribing an influential Doctor with millions of dollars to retain said contract, shit hits the fan. The Secret Police investigate, and those committed to running an essential lifesaving service are put on hold, with no pay. Shocking in the western world yes, old hat in Saudi.

So we wait, with options to stick it out and Insha’ Allah those with new BMW’s will return their illegally newly acquired cars and subsequently the money, employees salaries will be paid and people will be rescued from their wrecked cars on the side of the road escaping imminent death Insha’ Allah.

As for life on the compound, while our family waits, we explore options. A potential search and rescue position for a great pilot in Tasmania, one in Malaysia, one in Thailand.

As we wade through the suffocating disappointment of our four-year plan evaporating before our very eyes, we wait patiently for our life direction to unfold. Insha’ Allah.

Compound life goes on. I wake to the blazing sun daily, take Felyx to his private Saudi School, and then return home to attend the compound spin class, followed by a marathon swimming session with Tyl in the pool all before 10am.

I tend to my home brew broom closet wine, gin, and beer experiments, which Ms. Sethi my high school Chemistry teacher would be proud of.

In a mere few months I have managed to master some recipes from the Saudi Survival Guide handed down from expat to expat over the past 25 years.

I then pick Felyx up from school at 1pm, play in the park, swim another couple hours, then head to spend time with the adorable, unbelievably funny Irish house wife contingent for a few nips before dinner.

With that the day is done, as the kids go to bed, and we watch old CSI reruns of seasons past on Dubai One.

Once or twice a week depending, the family loads up on the beach bus headed to the secret exclusive private Beach resorts frequented by the expat community. Saudi’s not allowed. Here we strip off our abayas exposing our bikini-clad flesh to the sun and swim in the delicious Red Sea.

Matt laughs and Kristine and I ignore the Saudi men anxiously trying to penetrate the Silver Sands Beach Resort perimeter on jet skis to get an eye full of “naked” Westerners playing in the waves on shore. Occasionally you will see a burka draped woman flying through the waves with wreckless abandon, life jacket secure over top, adding a splash of colour to the floating black in the sea.

If I need to get groceries, go to the doctor with the children, or run errands, I call a limo service to take me where I need to go if Matt is not available to drive me. At times, it is a pain in the ass, but for the most part I don’t’ really mind. I would not want the stress of driving on these crazy roads. In honesty, I don’t think I have been here long enough yet to miss the convenience of driving. I do however love to see all the ladies pushing back in forth in line awaiting their chance to drive the bumper cars in the mall.

Life here for me is very simple, with so much time to focus on my children, which most westerners do not have the luxury of doing. I feel so fortunate for this opportunity, although some days I miss my rock star production life.

It is a comfortable numb, that may very well vanish in the blink of an eye.

I do not know where I am going next on this journey, but know I am being lead by a force beyond my comprehension.

I no longer pay attention to those who question my decisions as a parent to allow my family to follow the inevitable flow of what has become our life. The life of an expat family is not an easy one, but it does give my children the real experience of the planet as a global community, one that most parents and educators only flap off at the mouth about.

Felyx at the age of five, and Tyl almost three, have filled an entire passport to date with stamps marking their journey around the globe.

Felyx is fluent in mandarin, understands Fijian and Hindi, and is lapping up Arabic at a phenomenal rate.

For all the instability that family and friends see in this life style, I see unprecedented beauty, growth, and opportunity for my family, which I would not change for the world.

Should the world perchance end in 2012, would you be happy with your CHOSEN lot in life? I know I would, and there is no Insha’Allah about that!