Mount Kilimanjaro - Doing it the Lemosho way - Day _1

Klimbing Cili – Day Minus1

It’s 7 Am and I’m on the scale.. 4 Kgs up the roof and 2 more away from my ideal fit weight.

My knees are quite conscious of the extra blubber they will have to haul up that mountain two days from now. But my stomach is rebelling. In less than 24 hours there won’t be a decent meal in sight for 8 long arduous and ridiculously freezing days. Did I mention the torrential rain?  Yes, it will be a rainy hike up Mount Kili and the weather conditions are going to try their best to go against our will every step of the way.  And here I was worrying about camera chargers and extra battery life! There won’t be a dry moment to snap that perfect shot. Guess Steph and I will have to get very creative taking snap shots inside a 2 x 2 tent for 8  endless days.

But hey, if I stuff myself up with that whole bowl of Avocado, then finish up with some greasy fries, I’ll be much heavier and the wind won’t have it’s way with me afterall!

My friend Isabelle tells me in her village back home, they ask the youngest of  twin siblings to plant a knife in the garden to keep the rain at bay.. Can it work long distance??? Because I need that little boy of hers and 8 sharp knives to travel along!

My friend Salomé has a travel friendlier secret ritual! “Put three eggs in the garden and wish away .. your wishes should be directly to a certain Santa Clara and the rain won’t dare sprinkly your way.. Hmmmm, gotta find a way to carry three raw eggs intact on Lemosho, via Lava tower and the Baranco Wall scramble!

Emilie on the other hand thinks I should absolutely do both, and sprinkle some salt along the way! Afterall, if all else fails, we can end up mucnging on a warm omelette in base camp as we watch the rain wash away the tracks we should have followed!

In the meantime, It’s feeding frenzy till Day 0 hits in a few hours time.. A nose dive in my bed maybe??  And a few trips to my clean comfortable bathrooms just to get my fill! Oh Well,,,,,, It’s gonna be OK!

Mount Kilimanjaro - Doing it the Lemosho Way - Day _2

Klimbing Cili – Day Minus 2

Schedules, schedules, logistics and then some..

It takes two days to book a life changing trip to Kilimanjaro, but a whole three weeks to find subs to take care of the kids while I’m gone! Nerve Wrecking!!! And certainly not life changing!!!

Three kids ⇒Three school pick up times per day ⇒ Two to three geographically-totally-unrelated sets of activities daily⇒ and ONE expat mom.. You do the math.. it simply does NOT add up; no matter how you look at it.

Miraculously it does.. Because I’m an expat mom and we EMs have that super power to make it all settle in place somehow. We develop our own beehive dance around pick ups, drop offs, extra tennis rackets, more snacks, endless water bottles and the most hilarious of car-time motivational speeches.. but it works! We make it work!

And I’ve got the greatest support system I’ve had in any of my expatriations.

So why does my plan look more like Haywire in a mad house than a well synchronized Beehive dance?? 

I’ve done the works.. Ballet? Check! Tennis? Check! Soccer? 4 times a week?? Also miraculously Check! Swimming? Check, check and check!! (well it’s for all three kids), Horseback riding? Costs a fortune that substitute ride, but still.. Check! Birthdays, school drop offs, pick ups.. Bike trainings, and Arabic lessons… It’s all in there and there is a beehive of seven kind souls, 7 fellow expat moms who have stepped in to lead the dance.. Will it work??

Still on my chair, in front of my computer, a cup of steaming mint tea in one hand and a buzzing whataspp group in the other. I’m reading through the last changes of that mighty schedule and I’m out of breath already. Kili is 3 days away and I have yet to twiddle my toes in my hardened hiking shoes and yet… I’m already exhausted!!!!

Mount Kilimanjaro - Doing it the Lemosho way

Klimbing Cili - Day _6

Being an expat follower comes with many different labels: Dependent – Anonymous Spouse – Domesticated Partner  - obviously none really flattering to my ego! In short I am nothing beyond the walls of my household. And that NOTHING is the one word that echoes in my head hours after each party, social gathering or chance encounter and someone from my husband’s realm asks me: So what do you do??????

You spend the first few years as a novice expat scrambling through fleeting career opportunities, that shortly after become just job opportunities, which soon turn into  once-in-a-while consultancies..  But you don’t despair. In fact, you are so busy building your identity as a super mom that your life actually does have a meaning after all.

Then you hit 40. You breath and open your eyes, and you relax a bit. 40 isn’t so bad! Even for a career less, jobless, bored roaming housewife. Kids are fine, healthy and occasionally happy. Home is a safe warm haven of your own crafting, memories are busy being woven and your birthday cakes are to dream for!

But then 45 lurks right behind and the 50s bells begin to chime far in the distance!

You look around you and you see your kids struggling to fit in, traumatized because your so-called safe haven has just been breached, under your watch and they were bad people with big guns. Your kids are addicted to gadgets and their grades are screaming for the rescue squads. Other parents blame your kids for some crazy problems they trapped themselves in, and dragged others along and you suddenly find yourself sinking.- rather sky diving… and 45 is closing in, with 50 right in tow!

You take another breath. You open your eyes and you just see…. NOTHING!

So being the perfect mom is quite an elusive prospect despite all the energy that went into it. And your children are not just imperfect, but they are also unique in a beautiful, unconventional but sometimes very destructive way!

Even if you pull your mom thing through and they emerge safe and healthy and with some luck, relatively happy; in three years they will fly out of your cocoon one after the other. And you will hold your breath, yet again, hoping they don’t nose dive!  And then what?

You are failing,… miserably.. or are you??

OK you breath again.. and again.. You suddenly decide to shake it all off!!

Being a mom is the most frustrating journey I’ve ever imagined.. You start off aiming super high. Then as the years pass and your kids’ personalities start to shape, your dreams shift with the rising tides. Every once in awhile a Monsoon hits. You handle it. You think you got this but then a Tsunami emerges and the end is nowhere to be seen.

That’s what being a mom really feels like when you are an expat! Because there are no benchmarks, no guidelines and every move comes along with a new set of unfamiliar challenges.  You fall back on relevant memories from your own childhood. Nothing in there helps: we had an internet free, gadget free and a relatively simple childhood back then. You look around and you hesitate. Your friends, if you are lucky to have made some as an expat are wonderful people. But they come from over the world, each with their own set of cultural expectations, barriers and benchmarks. You’ve known them for what: 1 year, 2?? 4 at the most?? You love them dearly but are they really equipped to help you navigate this damned stage of your life? Do the want to?

Some years it’s easy flow, others it’s just a hormonal avalanche and the household seems to be anchored in the eye a Perfect Storm but in an agonizingly slow motion mode.

You go with it. You yield. You sink fast and you despair. You reach rock bottom and then you realize, it’s not over! You can’t just accept defeat. There is a small number of humans that depends on you standing tall and more importantly… standing PROUD!

Now you need to climb all the way back up again.. All the way to an elusive snow-peaked summit.  You know is more of a mental challenge than a physical one. You need to tell yourself that you can make; despite your lack of fitness and inability to believe in yourself. But if you make it, only then you’ll know!!!!

It’s going to be OK!, you are going to be OK! Your kids are going to be fine! Your friends will manage to look through the turmoil and hold on to you till you emerge again. Till you make the climb… all the way to the peak!

It’s Day -6 and the countdown to the Climb has just begun….

Disclaimer:

This post won’t resonate with any of the following echelons of expatriation:

• -       The genius wife who managed to carve a successful career alongside her roaming partner
• -       The satisfied home maker who fulfills her own dreams off the career path
• -       The disgruntled expat follower who knows how to be a social butterfly
• -       The financially independent partner who can afford to create a parallel fantasy life alongside her reality as a dependent follower
• -       Parents of the perfect children who never ever engage in any inappropriate behavior or leave you dealing with a trail of anger, shame, worry and sometimes even sheer fear