Category: Expats

The Emotionally Resilient Expat

For many more months that she cares to remember, Linda A  Janssen burned the midnight oil and poured her heart and soul into her book, The Emotionally Resilient Expat. It was time well spent because she’s really pulled it off.

Emotionally Resilient ExpatThis is what the pro had to say:

“A practical guide in the art of managing the risks of overseas life in ways that will promote endurance and effectiveness. Full of honest and hope-filled stories from the lived experience and life-long learning of Janssen and her dozens of expatriate contributors. An invaluable companion for expats who want to know that they are not alone.” 

Duncan P. Westwood, PhD, (C)OACCPP Clinical Director of Expatriate Care & Development, International Health Management.

This is what the amateur had to say:

“What’s it like down your neck of the expat woods? Exhilarating? Challenging? Tough? Isolating? Life-enhancing? Alienating? All these things wrapped up in a bow? You are not alone. We live in a global village where it has never been easier to pitch your tent in a foreign field. But, it’s a sprawling village of brain-aching complexity and diversity, which can stump even the most adventurous and resilient. Janssen has managed to capture the very essence of what it means to try a different culture on for size, assembling an exhaustive toolkit to help the expat explorer adapt and prosper. It’s quite a coup.” 

Jack Scott, Author

And guess what? Liam and I have cameo roles. Fabulous!

Check it out on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk

The Show is Over Now

The Show is Over Now

Time to take down the Anatolian display and pack away the posters. The Pride Without Prejudice Show is done and dusted for another year and what a successful run its been. If you’d told me back in the day when I ebbed and flowed along the nose-to-nipple Victoria Line that, a few years on, I’d be showcasing a book I’d written at a bone fide exhibition I would have told you to where to get off (at the next stop and mind the gap). Did I sell any books from it? Your guess is as good as mine. At the very same time I was mounting the posters, I was featured on WordPress’ Blogger Profile site which has over 10 million subscribers. As soon as their interview was published, it all went a bit crazy for a while. If I did flog a few copies off as a result of the show it was icing on the cake.  Will I exhibit again next year with the Sisterhood? Wild goats won’t keep me away.

The Anatolian Collection

The sequel to Perking the Pansies to tie up the fraying loose ends and bring our Anatolian journey to its crashing conclusion is coming along very nicely. Expect a few surprises. I have a working title of  ‘The Sisterhood,’ so this may give a little clue about the main theme.  In the meantime, a gentle plug for the books already on the virtual and actual shelves. Hey, a boy’s got to sell his soul to bring home the bacon.

The books are widely available in multiple formats. And if you buy direct from me, I get to keep the lion’s share of the take. For more information, check my website.

Seven Year Itch

It’s the fifth anniversary of our civil partnership today and seven years since Liam and I first met. I’ve been stalked by happiness (and a bit of sadness from time to time) since the day I dropped out of my mother’s womb screaming “I am what I am.”  The last seven years have been, without question, the happiest. I awoke this morning to find that Liam had posted  a little something on Facebook.  Believe me, I know how lucky I am.

Okay, you. One sentence should do it.

Seven years ago we met in that bar in Trafalgar Square, shared that Sloppy Giuseppe and over-priced Pinot Grigio, argued about the bill, eventually went Dutch, courted for months like a pair of 1950’s Catholics (for heaven’s sake), collapsed out of exhaustion into the world of jiggy-jiggy (terribly messy but strangely exciting), fell madly in love, got married (nice suits), moved in together (delicious scandal), watched the curtains twitch (mostly nets), gave up everything sensible and moved to Turkey (what was wrong with Spain?), fell in-and-out-and-in-and-out of love with an extraordinary (no, challenging, misogynistic, homophobic, primitive and God was it cold – okay I loved it) place, you writing ‘that’ book, ‘that’ book getting critical acclaim and big sales (cha-ching) but ‘that’ book largely ignored by those close to us (discuss?), coming back to look after our own (good call), becoming poor, well poor-ish (bad call), discovering the great city of Naaaarwich (nuff said), having more jiggy-jiggy (apparently unnatural, but terribly good with central heating and an injection of Radio 4 LW), re-discovering UK culture like a long lost friend but afraid to tell the expats how wonderful it was in case it came across as boastful (fine line), you becoming ‘properly’ recognised as a ‘proper’ writer (hurrah!) not to mention radio star (OMG), me re-learning Bach fugues (they are SO hard to play, even harder than Mozart, you really have no idea how my fingers ache), both of us weeping like candles at the latest Cinema City flick (okay, mostly Dame Maggie and thank God for the discounted tickets and blood-warm Merlot at the bar), getting over-excited about that converted railway carriage in miles-from-nowhere (yes, I could wash my bits in a sink with a view like that), improvising those make-shift nappies during the messy norovirus days (thank you Blue Peter and Morrison’s super-padded 2-for-1 kitchen towels, we owe you), people-watching at the Playhouse and longing to be young (clearly, we need to avoid Death In Venice comparisons here), gasping at Bonnie Langford’s amazingly flexible crack (and boy, can that Dolly write a tooone) but most of all, keeping our focus, always, on making sure our glass is resolutely full. I’d say it’s been an extraordinary seven years, husband.

Happy Anniversary. It still feels surprisingly good.

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

I wanted to see ‘The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel’ when it was released in 2012. It’s my kind of film but not the kind that got a screening at the plush cinema in Bodrum which tended to focus on Hollywood blockbusters, more’s the pity. We could have lifted a dodgy download from the enterprising Low Countries couple who did a roaring trade in counterfeit DVDs for the emigreys but I’m rather anti the whole it’s-not-really-stealing thing. Actually, it is. So, I was resigned to stalking the bargain bucket to acquire a proper copy at a knock-down rather than a knock-off price. My patience was rewarded and we picked up the film for a song at our local Norwich HMV store.

We uncorked the wine, turned off the lights and put our feet up. It was well worth the long wait. The tall tale is about a disparate group of cash-strapped Brits who up sticks, drop off their excess baggage at check-in and travel to the sun to eke out a low-cost dotage in an emigrey enclave (in this case, a run-down retirement hotel in India). Sounds strangely familiar and not so tall after all. The funny and tender script, heaving with sharp one-liners and set against the glorious chaos of the sub-continent, is delivered with expert thespian timing by the outstanding cast (including that pair of incomparable old Dames – Judi and Maggie). I didn’t want it to end

Let Dame Judi tell it as it is:

“There’s no past that we can bring back by longing for it, only a present that builds and creates itself as the past withdraws.”

Did the old wrinklies heed the advice and find redemption and contentment? Do any of us? Now, that would be telling.

Stop Press!

Perking the Pansies - HDNSo far, the start of spring has been a nipple-hardening affair. Wild March winds are whistling across the East Anglian flatlands and snow flurries swirl around the daffodils. Thank God for central heating and high tog duvets. March has also been remarkable for a flurry of activity for Perking the Pansies, Jack and Liam move to Turkey. The middle of the month saw a spike in sales sending it to the top of the Amazon charts. I know not why. Then, quite by chance, Twitter of all things alerted me to a review of the book in the Turkish Daily News. The out-of-the-blue piece was written by Hugh Pope, an eminent writer and journalist. Hugh lives in Istanbul and has assembled an impressive CV – The Wall Street Journal, The Independent, Reuters, and United Press International as well as three critically acclaimed books under his belt – Dining with Al-Qaeda, Sons of the Conquerors and Turkey Unveiled. These days, Hugh is Project Director (Turkey/Cyprus) for the International Crisis Group. This is serious stuff for a serious writer who knows a thing or two about Turkey and the wider region. He’s a busy man and I’m not sure how a little-known book by an unknown author caught his attention but I’m grateful that it did. Hugh gets the book in a way some others don’t. It might be a gossipy tale written in comic carry-on style and tied up with a pink ribbon, but there is a more thoughtful message in there too. Thank you, Hugh, for seeing it.

You can read Hugh Pope’s review here.

To find our more about his titles click here for Amazon.co.uk and here for Amazon.com.

Jack in the Book

You could knock me over with a feather boa. Fifteen months after Perking the Pansies, Jack and Liam move to Turkey first hit the shelves, it’s back at the top of the Amazon UK charts. To be number one in LGBT Travel is fabulous. To be in the top twenty for all travel books about Turkey is remarkable (in the company of titles from the Rough Guide, Lonely Planet and Marco Polo). I’ve now had more chart re-entries than Elvis and I’m chuffed. Thank you.

Perking_the_Pansies

Suited and Booted

Now that our frivolous semi-retired life among the lotus-eating emigreys of the Aegean is behind us, I thought I’d mark the transition with a major makeover. Not me, of course (far too late for that). Regular readers will have noticed that the blog is now dressed in more sober attire. Backtobodrum commented:

“I have to comment that your blog now looks very organized and serious. Have you two gone back to wearing suits and ties?”

It’s an interesting observation because, in a way, we have. Liam’s got himself a part time job doing something with data. So much for giving up the wicked world of the waged but needs must when the Devil drives. The demon in this case is the continuing slide in Turkish interest rates. It’s a pre-emptive strike. We’re spending more or less the same here as we did in Bodrum, but we need to stitch the little hole that first appeared in the family purse a couple of years back. Working part time enables Liam to plug the gap and to meet his family obligations (the main reason we came back to Blighty). It also enables me to make a proper go at this writing lark (the other reason). When I get the film deal, Liam will be released from paid labours and return to his main function in life – sorting me out and peeling me grapes.

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Forced to Fly

Many years ago, I had a family of blue tits nesting in a bird box nailed to the back wall of my inner city garden. It was a one egg family. For weeks, I watched chick tit spend its formative days with its tiny beak permanently poking out of the little round hole as Mummy tit and Daddy tit embarked on a never-ending feeding frenzy of tit bits. Eventually, chick tit grew into a fattened teenage tit. I was lucky enough to be working at home on the day it got its wings and I watched the launch from the window of my back bedroom. The doting parents took up position on opposite fences, tweeting melodiously to lure their offspring from the warm comfort of the nest. Now and again, they would show off with a cocky cabaret of aerial acrobatics. Teenage tit tentatively balanced its body on the ledge of the box to watch the flypast, nervously flapping its wings and preening its new-season plumage. After an agonising wait – which had me with my nose pressed hard up against the pane – teenage tit took the plunge, firing itself into the air like a rogue missile. I swear that its eyes must have been firmly shut; it shot straight towards me and slammed into the window like a bullet, just inches from my face. I got quite a start. Unfazed by its unguided maiden flight, teenage tit flew off into sky, never to be seen again.

You may wonder why I mention this tit chick flick, tender and delightful though it is. Well, we’re all forced to fly at some time in our lives, none more so than the courageous souls who migrate to greener pastures. Some stay the course and some don’t, but all have a tale to tell. Those who have tried know that it’s not all wine and song. The best of us brave the blunders with humour and insight. Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Forced to Fly, a delicious compilation of wit and wisdom from those in the know. And, I’m not just saying that because I’m in it. As writer and editor-in-chief, Jo Parfitt, says:

 “Everyone knows that laughter is the best medicine, but Forced to Fly is more than a collection of funny stories about seeing the funny side of the day-to-day blunders we all make. It is packed with stories that resonate with anyone who has lived abroad. Its opening chapters, written by experts, counsellors and real-life expats who have struggled with culture shock, will provide support and advice to guide you through any dark patches.”

You can pick up your copy at Amazon.co.uk or Amazon.com. While you’re thinking about it, why not take a look at the book trailer?

Expat Quotes

Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to the latest glossy offering from the Easyexpat stable of top of the range emigrey websites. It’s called Expat Quotes and aims to take some of the stress out of settling in a foreign field. The site…

…connects expatriates and future expats to services in the categories of:

Visa & Permits, Moving Jobs, Housing, Finance, Education, Health, Shop &
Telecom, & Tourism. The listings provide an ever-growing directory with
the ability to get free quotes. Whether you are looking for an
international removal company, medical insurance, or expat banking service
– you will find it there. In addition, a series of country guides provide
information directly from expats and experts in immigrating to a new
country.

I’ve been asked to write a word or two so expect to read my irreverent ramblings very soon. Don’t let that put you off.