As for being a maid, most of us do that job for no pay anyway!
.-= Keith´s last blog ..Aug 25, Norman Rockwell Christmas: Knight Looking In Stained Glass Window, 1930 Christmas Painting =-.

Agreed. Life is never ideal. And if it is, I’d like to meet the people who live in that world :-)

I’ve never had a family backing me, catching me when I fell. I went it alone because that was the way it always was.

So when I went hungry, I was hungry without a net. Forget going to the government as it was not my way.

(besides, being raised as an expat, I was only vaguely aware of government programs in the home country)

When my son was going into first grade, I lost my job as a mudlogger (on site geologist) due to the economy.

We moved to Houston and ran out of money.

I got lucky as the apartment complex we were living in offered me a job cleaning the units. I took it.

So yes, I was a maid for awhile. And I didn’t look at it as demeaning, I took it as a way to feed my family. I was grateful then and I still am.

It reminds me of two phases I went through as a kid:

First, in middle school, being jealous of my friend who started his own lawn-mowing business and made quite good money. He was able to afford all sorts of records and movies I couldn’t. I resented him until I realized he had all those things because he was harder working than me. My family was a little better off, and my folks gave each kid an allowance. They *only* gave us an allowance, so we had to learn to budget, but I wasn’t willing to do any more work than the basic chores they required to get it.

Second, in high school, being jealous of my other friend who was better off than I was, and whose parents appeared to buy him whatever he wanted. The friend in the previous scenario and I used to complain about his silver spoon syndrome, and how he was in for a rude awakening when and if he eventually moved out and into the “real world”. I still didn’t have a job yet.

In both of these phases, I was an idiot. Might still be.

Like the comparing. Well, here’s why we compare: we miss things. We wish we could have our cake and eat it, too. We like the comforts of home, but we also like (frequently *love*) the comforts of our adopted homes.

So while bitching nonstop about filthy sidewalks and bad drivers is one thing, sometimes a little commiserating is in order. It can be a litmus test of your own ability to cope with the more remarkable culture shocks. Like–”Have I totally lost my grounding in reality, or is it less than okay for construction workers to spill a carton of nails on a busy urban sidewalk and not bother to collect them for the several weeks it takes them to complete the construction job? Thanks–I was beginning to think it was just me.”

To give an entirely unextraordinary example, life for me in Bangkok is not just about being accustomed to living in a foreign country. It’s also about adjusting to life in a big city. I’ve spent four of the past seven years here, and the three I wasn’t here I was living in small-town New Hampshire–with exponentially more trees than people. Before that I lived in the rural Pacific Northwest. Of course I’m not going to banish the past from my memory.

Maybe the problem isn’t the comparing, it’s the complaining. Since just as much of the comparing is positive — “I could never afford to have my ironing done back home” — “it’s amazing what you can get delivered here” — “I can’t believe how cheap air travel is”.

I’d add bad habit #8: expecting everyone to live their lives in the same way. The one-two punch of (a) not getting stuck in a rut, and (b) not traveling too much is especially bizarre.

Everyone finds their own balance. And people find like-minded folks wherever they go.

Sometimes we’re still looking for the balance. Right now the thing I want most is a front yard for my 18-month-old. She basically acts like she is training for the baby decathlon. So I’m casually looking for somewhere that balances location and cost. Once I’m convinced this isn’t entirely a pipe dream, I’ll start looking seriously.

But pay me no mind if you hear me complaining about it in the meantime.