Meeting the Counterparts

Last week I was invited to an event to be attended by diplowives like me. This is the first of perhaps many more to come, and I was really nervous because I knew that I wasn’t going to fit in. I have always thought that any event that involved females is sort of a beauty pageant; where you are judged by how you carry yourself, posture, wit, and all.

And at the risk of sounding insecure, diplowife events are doubly pressuring for me because most of these women are as much as accomplished as their husbands. Highly educated, fashionably dressed, and poised. Whilst I, as I’ve mentioned in my previous posts, I am not exactly the graceful and articulate type. This goes all the way back to childhood, while most little girls played pretend tea parties, I spent my afternoons climbing trees imagining that I was a crime fighting spy on recon assignment.

I got there early, but as soon as the women started arriving and exchanging cheek to cheek kisses, I noticed that I was beginning to become a very uninteresting wall flower. I was never trained nor do I have the natural talent in the art of mingling so I stood there, with a plastered smile that almost hurt my facial muscles.

There were moments when I would initiate small talks with people that looked my way but I could immediately tell that they we were not exactly connecting. One of the frustrating things about it is that most of them were already at the prime of their age, so except for what country we are from, visiting the fish market here in Tripoli, and the weather we had nothing to continue on. When those main topics have been covered, immediately dead air follows. Okay, so you might say that I lack the skills to start the ball rolling, but what do I ask them? “You know I’m looking forward to watching 500 Days of Summer, how about you?”

In fact I usually get the, Oh-you-look-so-young; comment which I can now predict is followed by “how old are you anyway?” When I tell them I’m 25, they would gasp and say that I am the same age as their son or daughter, and most of them for some weird reason would just politely move on.

That was the time when I would wonder what I was doing there in the first place, I wasn’t required to go on anyway, but still I did. Perhaps it was the lack of having anything better to do, or that I told myself (as I was considering whether to go or not) that this would be a good chance for me to learn to be a better wife for JG especially for his career.

Especially when I met the british representative who was also one of the organizers of the event, she was everything a Diplowife is to me. I’m not very good at describing, but she reminded me of a wise college professor, impeccably dressed in a simple yet serious ensemble, and spoke to everybody with a certain warmth and of course grace. I would have to make a complete 180 before I can become like her, which immediately reminded me of the irony of how I ended up as a diplomat’s wife.

But there is still some good thing that came with attending such events. I found myself sharing a table with two very interesting women. The first is a young Chinese lady who immediately explained that she was an American citizen, and knew nothing about her Asian descent. We hit off simply because we both admitted that we were not much into the mingling and socializing, plus that we were both new in Libya, and how we often find ourselves bored out of our minds. It was nice to meet someone who almost my age. And I liked how she wasn’t trying so hard to fit in as I was, and thought she’d be a cool friend judging from her pierced tongue and confident attitude; I certainly wasn’t expecting to meet someone like her at a place like that.

Also at the table was my Indonesian counterpart, she also looked the same as everybody else there, properly dressed in a suit, and we also we went through how-young-I-was routine but unlike the others she didn’t leave me behind. We were separated when it was time for the tour of the hotel, but I got the chance to meet her again later that week in a dinner JG and I attended. There, I was able to speak with her more intimately and I was surprised with her very down to earth personality. We found ourselves agreeing about some things, like how as much as we love our countries we both don’t miss the heavy traffic and how congested everything is. I found her easy to talk to because she wasn’t looking at me like a naïve young girl with bad posture; instead she treated me like a friend whom she gave constructive advises to. One of the things she told me is to how be smart about handling our money. How I shouldn’t get carried away with buying things I only think I need, but as she assured me, I would realize I don’t in hindsight. This is good advice coming from someone who really has been there, and almost has the same economic concerns as I do, as we both come from not so well off Asian countries.

Meeting these two women is I think one of the perks of being a Diplowife. It is only natural to make friends in your neighborhood or at work; but to be able to meet someone who comes from thousands of miles away, from a completely different surrounding and culture is an opportunity not many can get a chance to do. I look forward to learning about them and from them.

More of meeting the other Diplowives on future posts. Events like this is after all is just the beginning of many more to come.

 I wasn’t able to take pictures of the event but I finally got the chance to get a picture of Tripoli.

The Book, The Wife, & The Blog

 These are the facts: I recently got married. I’m only 24. And my husband is a Diplomat. So basically, I’m a young newlywed, who has to not only adjust to married life, but to culture shocks of life abroad. And this is what mostly what this blog is about.

But first, let me explain the title. Diplomatic Baggage I got from a book, my then boyfriend gave me for our anniversary.  The book is about the real life accounts of writer Brigid Keenan as a diplomat’s wife. Which is why from the title alone, the book caught my interest because those were the times when JG (my husband) and I were seriously talking “marriage”.

I enjoyed the book because it was really funny the way Keenan recounts her life as she and her husband moves from one continent to another. But aside from the humor, I thought that it was a good perspective of the life of a Diplomat’s wife.

However, I must say that there is a big possibility that her experiences would be different from mine. Because the author and I don’t have much in common; in fact come from different worlds. Keena was a budding a writer when she married AW, whilst I can only brag about a short writing stint in college. She came from a rich family and studied in an English Finishing School, while I’m but a humble product of our public school system where you learn to be tough first before the actual lessons. She knows fashion and high end style, while I buy clothes from surplus shops and ukay-ukay. You get the picture.

This makes it even more difficult for me because there is an idea that as a Consul’s wife, you are expected to be equipped with social graces and should be a good hostess. I talk and literality walk like a boy, and has never hosted a party, not even a children’s party. Sometimes I think that I am a disgrace to JG. Compared to his friend’s partners who are doctors, executives, and co-officers; I have yet to find success.

This brings me to a few things Keenan said in her book that I could really relate to. In the book she talked about being an appendage.  10% of our country’s populations are OFWs, and to some people, I am lucky for the mere fact that I get to go abroad. (And even though we haven’t left I already get those, “Ang swerte mo naman…”comments, when I tell them about my husband and his work). But as Keenan said in the book, Diplomat’s wives have no identities, instead are only extensions of our husbands.  I get to go abroad not because I am successful or want a more comfortable life for my family, I get to go not because of my hard work, but because of my husband and his job. 

I wish I could make something of myself on my own, but due to love, and not to mention that I don’t have the brilliance JG has to land me a kick ass prestigious job like his, I must be the one to make the sacrifice. The truth is, being the idealist that I am; I was a little hesitant to get married, because I wanted to take my career or the lack of it, a notch higher. Or even settle to gaining a masters degree. But my wise mother said, that maybe my luck isn’t here, but is wherever JG’s posting takes us. Which was reasonable, when I thought about it, because not only do I get to be with him, (instead of enduring a long distance relationship if I decided to stay) I also get the chance to go global. But still, should I find my success when we leave, it will still be through my husband’s job.

at wedding day

Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband and will not regret my decision of marrying him. Another thing Keenan and I have in common and she put it exactly the way I feel about JG, “I admire him more than anyone. He is disciplined, dutiful, hard-working, clever, thrifty, stoic and funny. And I am the opposite.” We both married men that are very different from our personalities, in my case, these traits are the same reasons I fell in love with my husband. Even if he can be really difficult most of the time; in reality, I wouldn’t last a month without seeing him. Although it’s not always perfect and happy, I really couldn’t imagine getting married to anyone else. So marrying him is really just a matter of prestige versus love. And as idealistic as I am, my being romantic and overtly emotional over passes everything else.

Since JG hasn’t been posted yet; my continental adventures as a Diplomatic Baggage has yet to be written. At present, the blog would be mostly about me since there are still other aspects in my life, married life, life in the Philippines, and my continuous quest to finding my own success (in accomplishments big and small) before I leave it all behind to fully become a trailing spouse.