The ex-pat syndrome or how to feel at home

There is nothing like being confined to home to make me sort through those books I picked up at various charity shops. I decided that Len Deighton's spy trilogy, Berlin Game, Mexico Set and London Match would keep me amused for a bit and I wasn't wrong. They were written around 1985 or so when the Berlin Wall was still up and Bonn was the capital of West Germany. I visited Berlin around then and saw the wall for myself and as I stayed with a German who grew up there, I was able to get into the atmosphere of all things berlinerisch. In addition, I had always loved hearing stories from my in-laws, whose exploits during and after the Second World War were hair-raising to put it mildly.
I found Mexico Set the least entertaining of the three books. I particularly enjoyed London Match, though. There was one paragraph of the book, towards the end, which resonated with me. The characters are talking about being Berliners and Samson is waiting for them to say that he, too, is German, because he grew up there. "Berlin was my town", he thinks. London was where his friends lived and his children were born but he was a German. But the others don't see him as a Berliner like themselves. He is still a foreigner.
Isn't this a bit like what every ex-pat feels? I have lived most of my life in Germany, before that I spent six or more years in London and before that a couple of years in Dublin. I never felt I belonged anywhere, I still feel like that. I love London and when I am there on a visit, I feel I could slip back into that life. I still have a great deal of interest in Germany and although I never felt that I belonged, I can identify with the mentality. I now live in Ireland but I don't think I will ever be 100% Irish. I've been away too long. Somebody (during my time in Germany) called me "a citizen of the world." Maybe that's not such a bad thing.

A Feeling of Home

At this time of year, we are inclined to look back on what we achieved over the outgoing year and make some new resolutions for the coming one.
I have been travelling a lot in 2019 and the one thing which stands out for me is that I had the feeling of coming home each time I returned to my little apartment. I have been out of Ireland for most of my life, first in London and then in Germany in a small town close to Frankfurt. I never called anywhere home, or if I did, I did not mean it in the sense of belonging somewhere. Neil Diamond's song I am, I said, has always resonated with me. So it is nice, not to say heartwarming, to find a place I can feel at home in.
Not that I regret travelling. I met so many fascinating people and worked in so many interesting jobs over the years and I wouldn't miss that for the world.
This afternoon I am going to see  Little Women in the local cinema with supper afterwards. I am looking forward to that.
I wish all my readers a very Happy New Year!

A White Toothed Smile

I had my regular dental hygiene appointment today so my teeth feel squeaky clean and shiny after all that poking and polishing.  The hygienist said, somewhat regretfully I thought, that I was doing a reasonable job on my dental hygiene.   Have you noticed that dentists almost never praise your efforts in the tooth cleaning area?  They give you all sorts of advice on flossing and using cute little brushes to get between the gaps but they never - in the "never" of conversation, i.e. not very often - say you are doing a great job in tooth maintenance.  I once shared an apartment in London with a dental hygienist.  She gave us a lot of tips on keeping our teeth clean and at the same time entertained us with hilarious stories of quirky patients.  I never forgot her advice on how to combat those little hobgoblins which attack your teeth as soon as your back is turned or to be more precise when you've finished enjoying your favourite sugary snack.

Which all reminded me today of a dentist in London who did a great job on repairing all the damage I did by neglecting my teeth (until that flat mate hygienist arrived, you understand).  He had a habit of talking to you while working even though the answers he got - from me at any rate - were mostly in the nature of the gurgles of a drowning fish or "ummmhhhsss".  He was Australian and told me about how polluted the fish were because of nuclear waste being dumped in the sea and how CFC sprays were destroying the ozone layer (this was in the early 1970's when we - or I -  were just becoming aware of environmental issues).  I literally listened with my mouth open (yeah, I know, but go on, smile anyway).  The most fascinating thing about him was that despite being such a skilled dentist, he was scared of his assistant.  I discovered this on one particular visit where in rinsing out my mouth and returning the beaker, it fell out of my hand, leaving a splash on the floor.  "Don't worry," he said then added in a half whisper "but don't tell her because she'll be very cross with you."  ("her" obviously being his assistant who was briefly out of the room at the time).  I thought he was joking until as I was slipping into my coat I heard the following conversation:
Her:  "What happened here?  What's the water doing on the floor?"
Dentist:  "Oh, that was me, I slopped it.  I'll just clean it up."

No man is a hero to his dental assistant as some philosopher must once have said.

Fly me to the moon

I was intrigued by an article I read on the BBC's website http://bbc.co.uk/news today which said a married couple is being sought for a proposed voyage to Mars.  Preferably a married couple and preferably middle-aged.  The trip would take around 501 days (not 502 days apparently, hmm..).  The couple should be compatible and feel they could endure a long period of close contact with no possibility of stepping outside for a minute.

When we get married we intend living in close proximity to our husband or wife as the case may be.  We don't however look down the long road ahead of us.  All we see is someone we care about and we live in the moment, which in my view, is the only place to live.  But if someone said this means you're going to be together for 50 years without a break or even 500 days without a break from each other's company, I think most of us would say "whoa-up!" and start to wonder what that would be like.  Or would we?  Maybe it would be better to put a newly wed couple on that spaceship.  By the time they got back to earth they'd have had all those fights and making up which are part and parcel of a young marriage and their relationship would have matured.

For the keen space traveller there is the possibility of getting to within 240 kms of Mars.  Awesome!  Personally I'd rather a week's shopping in New York or London.  As far as I'm concerned Mars can take care of itself without me going up close to admire it.  But then I guess I am non-adventurous (if there is such a term).  Certainly if you want to impress anyone at one of those glamorous cocktail parties to which you are sure to be invited there is no better way than saying, as you sip from your glass of Kir Royal:  "Moi?  Oh I've just come back from a little trip to Mars."