who we are and where we are from

there are times when i feel that being a diplomat’s wife is the last thing i want to be in my life. strangely however, there are times when i really feel i want to be a diplomat’s wife forever. and that is the times when my two kids delight my every morning with their kisses, cuddles, giggles, demands, screams, and even battles!

looking into my old working days, the struggles to balance between family and career often left me utterly no such privilege. my daily regime consisted of waking up as early 5 am , and while still groggy from the lack of sleep (considering coming home late and burning my midnight oil to finish work) , i would be rushing to kitchen to prepare the simplest breakfast and snack (only for my eldest at that time, my husband and i myself hardly took even drinks), preparing his school uniform and bag, and then running up stair like mad, praying fajr and helping him with shower (or else he continued to snooze in the bathroom!). sometimes, i made some extra efforts like driving myself to the nearest food stall just to get him nasi lemak which i consider much more fulfilling. often, i was the first customer to arrive and sometimes, the stall owner was still loading food containers out from her car under the dim light from the nearest lamp post. then after my kid and husband left for school and work, i would be running here and there, up and down , hanging clothes on the washing line, quickly vacuuming and mopping the whole the house ( my friend would always suspect me of having OCD obsessive compulsive disorder because i insisted my house has to be spic and span clean regardless of how busy i was) etc. then i would be literally running again to get myself ready to work. very thin layer of face powder is the only thing i can afford to, if only. before leaving or in the car itself (while waiting at traffic light, or when stuck in hapless traffic) i usually flip through my files and books very briefly just to check and recall what were the subjects i planned to deliver to my students. back
then, i taught in an international university, some 45 km away from home. so, my 45 minutes to 1 hours driving to work was actually precious time for me to think about how, what to do and say in my class, and in the next 8 hours at academic work alone. Though sound incredibly funny to some, i actually enjoyed braving through daily gridlock, knowing that’s the best time for me to be just with myself and to take more deep breath! once the opportunity struck, i would be pressing the accelerator and speed up as much as i could just to make sure i wouldn’t be late especially for my 8:00 am class. Being late due to unavoidable circumstances like accidents would only mean i would be having headaches to offer replacement slot and get all students to agree on one time that would match everyone’ schedules. once my husband was terrified when his friend reported to him that i sped up like F1 track king, micheal schumacher! yet, i can't afford to sometimes think of my safety (well, anyway i guess i was skillful enough) and tolerate lateness since i taught in an international university, where coming from diverse background, the students are highly demanding , challenging and very vocal (they would say straight on our face if they don't like us!(doesn't really matter but how could they ever learn effectively if they dislike us?)). the workload was also too much that skipping lunch or breakfast was something perfectly common as well expected. of course that partly explained my setback - skinny physical plus low blood pressure.

i would only restrict myself in office for consultation and prayer. i prepared materials and did related work any where in between classes or tutorials, be that at the cafeteria, at mosque, at resource room (happens to be on the first floor which is rather far too convenient that my office on the fourth floor) or sometimes even in the midst of having meetings. as i really had to juggle between tonnes of teaching workload and loads of responsibilities back home, i did bring works home if i can't accomplish all in office. i didn’t have a helper. well to be precise, i refuse to since privacy means so much to me. somehow, I still managed to slip and do free-lancing everywhere. what started as an attempt to be more financially secured, i became passionately addicted to it and find running everywhere after my actually working hour offered me more than what i initially expected. networking, experience, and fresh exposure were the factors that kept me motivated, focused and energetic. believe it or not, on top of that, i applied for a fellow. again, all for the sake of experiences. there was no 8 to 5 because my working hours would even went up to 12 am or more especially talking about my added role as a fellow. still, there was so much enjoyment in the adrenalin rush I had while pursuing all these. strange, but instead of feeling stressful, i really found so much satisfaction and pleasure that when i resigned from the university and moved to another university which was nearer to my house and had far less workload (mainly for the sake of my son and husband), i started having boredom and extreme restlessness. my husband understands me but advised me to slow down myself, not realizing that he too is equally workaholic. thanks to a wonderful neighbor who always made our life much easier by looking after our son without fuss.

nowadays, things are totally different for me. far too different indeed. when i look back, sometimes i can't help wondering how i did all those. though my youngest will still rouses me from slumber as early as 5 am, i can still lay in bed while entertaining him with his whims, feed him milk, cuddle and stroke him, watch cartoon or just play some toys and let him towing me all around our bedroom. Though i used to prepare breakfast, snack and lunch box for my eldest myself, nowadays, my helper has gained cooking skills that i entrusted her with most basic cooking. in the past, my family would find ourselves dragging our feet to the nearest restaurants for dinner, not knowing what else to order as all in the menu were merely dishes being given different labels, but sadly a bowl of tomyam would always be a bowl of tomyam, and nothing else. Today however, we entertain our taste-buds with all sorts of delectable and much healthier dishes from my own kitchen, some were never made or even crossed my mind in the past. The memories of letting the kids curling in my bed, enjoying and at the same time spilling my homemade meals, playing with them, fighting just to make them sleep on time, working on art or science project, or just make myself available in school whenever i am needed to, all will be my greatest treasure when we get repatriated home soon. All too will be my sweet memories when they leave my nest later. Though it can be a grind sometimes, it is more rewarding. today too, i am blessed with unthinkable opportunities to see the world from atypical perspective. Regardless whether the door opens up to me with positive or negative experiences, i believe, more than the good times, memories of trying times are worth it and make us better and grateful persons.

i am not a super woman. i believe many of us out there have almost the very same routine like mine. but i wish to say that in the nutshell, our momentary life should not take us away from the reality. It is the reality that diplomatic life abroad is different from our actual life in our homeland (i would say to most of us, if not all.) there are advantages we have back home that we don’t get abroad and vice-versa. Yes, true enough if anyone would like to say, “enjoy our life the way it is while we still can”, yes i couldn’t agree more. But, just as a friendly reminder from a humble me, ultimately, we will embrace reality. The reality that says, no one is above others and that we are all the same, the same indeed because in spite all privileges, diplomatic immunity or what so ever, we are all just normal human beings. we do eventually go back to who we are and where we are from.