February is the month of love, right? I’ve been reminded of this by 3 things:
1. the annual Valentines dash to buy a card from the local petrol station;
2. in this leap year, today is the day that women propose marriage to their couch potatoes; and
3. our friends N&D asking us to be witnesses to their wedding in 3 weeks.
N&D met when working overseas and this made me remember the conversations our group of gals used to have while sitting on my porch in the evenings. Our previous relationships, it seemed, were a string of disasters, and recurring disasters at that.
“There’s always other volunteers,” said C hopefully, “or the guys we work with?”
“But that’s such a small gene pool, and there’s no guarantee that any one of them will be sane,” said S. “Plus, I live in the middle of nowhere. On an island.” We could see her point and our collective anxiety about the small gene pool was palpable.
But we lived in hope and, against all odds, some of us actually found love amongst our teeny tiny gene pool. It was only when I returned to the UK did I realise that development organisations were like international dating agencies; not only had I met Mr Homesick whilst working in the Maldives, but almost all the VSO trainers I worked with had met their partners overseas too. There is some sort of logic to this. Apparently, we’re more likely to meet our future spouses at work as we spend so much time there. But forming relationships overseas brings complications too. When you make those first tentative steps together back home, you go through reverse culture shock together, which isn’t pleasant. You have to adjust to a lifestyle so far removed from your usual routine that it can derail you. And there are very real consequences for those in cross-cultural relationships (but that’s another post). That said, there is something very special about travelling to the other side of the world and meeting someone who lived in the next town from you as a child, who turns out to be your soul mate.
Congratulations to N&D for finding love in their small gene pool. This post is dedicated to S (and her hubby P) who found love whilst wearing full diving gear and counting turtle poo, on an island, in the middle of nowhere. Bless.
Feeling Homesick 