Vacations. Yes, that word.

Today is the first say of spring, guys! 

For us in Qatar it also means summer is coming. 

 

I was going to work this morning wearing high boots and tights (there were days when you wouldn’t find a pair of tights in my wardrobe. Pantyhose for those of you who are in the US. I find them terribly unsexy! I mean even the word pantyhose?...Is plain awful. But these days, when I get to put them on like what? twice a year? They make me happy. They make me feel like I am somewhere with a proper winter. ) and a warm cardigan…Wow. It felt cosy. And nice.

 

You guys out there, with normal seasons, have no idea how wonderful it feels to be able to put boots on.

 

You are probably reading this, like this friend of mine who has to start her every day worrying how many hours she needs to allocate to shoveling the snow from her driveway….and thinking shut up bitch, just shut the F up!

But here’s the thing, guys. We all have our own reality, and our own set of problems and things that make us happy. Or not.

 

This very same friend told me off a few months ago, as I shared some meme on Facebook, which was mocking 2020 as a terrible year- “What the hell was so terrible for you personally, anyway? You had a great year. You didn’t lose the job, everyone is ok, you had Covid but recovered well from it…so what exactly are you wining about? Oh yes, you could not go on holidays! And couldn’t have as many parties as usual! Big effin’ deal!”

 

I love the way she can twist the facts ever so slightly to make them sound like she wants to. But that’s not just her, right? Look at the media these days. Every article is written in such a way, and often not even with too much effort to make it look accidental, that suits the agenda of the writer. Karabakh coverage in the world media was a great eye opener for me. I know I am just stating the obvious.

 

In a few days, it is my mother’s birthday. And I always tried to organize something special for her birthday. I took her to Paris once...and Dubai. Or that time when i flew to Baku to surprise her...(That face when she opened the door! Those five days we spent in Baku! Just us!) 

Looking back, we have had some really fun birthdays. On her last one in Doha we even got to meet Meryem Uzerli. Check them out! 

But that doesn’t make me feel any better still, knowing that she is alone this year. And nothing I can do. 

Vacations are not just about getting away from somewhere you live. When she said “so what? big deal, you don’t get to go on holidays” she is missing- on purpose or by accident, the fact that when expats go on holidays, is not always to Maldives to lie around with pina colada all day. (Which of course, would be nice right now, too…) Is to go home. To see ageing parents. To see the old friends. Relatives. To visit the places you left behind years ago.

 

Looking at all my vacations, I realise that we almost never gone somewhere just by ourselves. Every vacation away was with friends or family, or visiting friends and family. 

From the days of my single life, when my stoned friend picked me up in the airport in London and took me straight to a midnight mass at St Paul’s cathedral…my first proper trip abroad, which I will never forget; to family trips away, for me vacation was always mainly about people. Well, and food, of course. 

 

But…to this friend of mine who works hard, and has to deal with meters of snow every morning these are not real problems. To her, my privileged life as an expat seems shiny, spoiled and lazy.

 

And she has a point of course. I am not complaining. Life in Doha is pretty good. And spring is here. In a few weeks’ time we will be able to swim again and wear flip flops. I just really miss going home. And I miss my mother. I even!!!! miss my in-laws, imagine that? I miss the UK- my beautiful, rainy second home. Tiny cars with drivers who drive like pussies compared to us here, in Doha where every day is a battle for survival on the roads. Waitrose! I miss Waitrose. And the local butcher. And pies.  And fish and chips.

 

I miss Baku and the Caspian sea and shashliks. And meeting the Russian university friend in my favourite Mari Vanna. 

And taking an old (terrifying) train up to the mountains in Azerbaijan, where nobody spoke Russian and fed me boiled eggs and hard cheese for breakfast. And pure local honey. In a small family-owned resort with that room that looked like the set from Orange is the New Black. Bring it all back, I won’t complain, I swear. Bring back my vacations, that one simple word that has so many layers, so many memories, so many friggin’ awesome experiences.

 

So lets hope that this spring will bring us all lovely sunshine and vaccinations rolled out everywhere, and hugs and….vacations! And that I could finally see my mother.