CurlyDarling
11-20-2009, 08:37 AM
One of the unique phenomena of the expatriated lifestyle is the phenomenon of the "Trailing Spouse."
The Trailing Spouse is a person who follows their partner to an exotic location because their partner has a good job opportunity there.
Invariably, the Trailing Spouse is a wife. I've only met one who was male and he was my partner, so I'm not sure if that even counts. Wait! Make that two! Ah, but the other one was my second husband, so...
It doesn't bother me that this category is completely filled with women (except for my two guys): men aren't very good at trailing. My own experiences with breakfast-dishes-still-in-the-sink-when-I-got-home-from-work taught me that the hard way.
Moscow is filled with these women.
Though these trailing women don't intend to, as they pack up their households in London, Melbourne or Boston, they usually end up being housewives abroad. With a husband on a "hardship" expat salary, why bother looking for a job? How much more fun to spend hours with a realtor viewing potential flats near Patriarshy Prudy or testing out the local gyms' yoga class offerings or finding the right facialist at the Expat Salon.
To be honest, it's always been my dream, if not, apparently, my destiny, to be a Trailing Spouse.
When boredom eventually sets in for these chicks, four things customarily happen: women's clubs are joined (usually associated with the applicable embassy), nagging complaints about the husband's working hours begin in earnest, careers such as landscape-architecture or interior design are contemplated and some introductory courses paid for and, of course, babies are born.
I read a pamphlet aimed at helping Trailing Spouses here that included this helpful paragraph: "Do you have any personal needs for fulfilment? Some of these needs could include donating time to a non-profit organisation or starting a new hobby. This is a great way to reach out in your community and meet new people."
First of all, I'd love to meet the person without any need for personal fulfilment and second, I'm not sure this advice really works in Russia, except maybe through the applicable embassy. And that's a little doubtful because I've not heard of such things at the American Embassy.
Recently I met a Trailing Spouse who blew me away. She was English and had the ubiquitous baby. Her husband was an investment banker at one of the bigger firms, as she'd once been.
The minute I entered her flat I knew that she'd been compelled by circumstances to centre her life around this kid. Stuffed animals of every sort and size everywhere. Floors covered in protective rubber. The child's birthday carved in marble and hung above the fireplace. And at least 100 photos of the baby, including one of the infant and the husband in a designed-to-make-me-throw-up frame that had "Daddy and Baby" and "True Love" etched on it.
Everything about the flat and about the conversation revolved around the child, who had clearly become this woman's life goal and sole project to the exclusion of anything else (including hobby clubs at the British Embassy or typical housewife-type degrees).
"The baby," she said, "is the only important thing."
On the walk home from this woman's flat, my date and I played a game to test our observation skills.
"What's the kid's name?" I asked.
"Jason," my date, a New Zealander, answered.
"How many times was the name ‘Jason' spelled out with brightly coloured letters? Bonus points if you can remember the locations."
"Three times," he replied. "In the bath, on the door to the nursery and ... I forgot the other place."
"Wrong! Four times. You're missing the mobile above the crib and the photo frame on the coffee table!"
"OK," my date said. "Your turn: What was this woman's dream?"
"Baby," I answered, "I object to the question. A kitchen renovation is not a ‘dream.'"
"Still, you got it right!" he exclaimed.
After we got back to my place, my date went to pour some champagne for me to mix with my painkillers while I scribbled down this little ditty, which I called "Ode to the Trailing Spouse":
"Well, I guess you got what you set out to do, Your babbling child is more interesting than you."
xxoo
DD
Deidre Dare
Moscow News
The Trailing Spouse is a person who follows their partner to an exotic location because their partner has a good job opportunity there.
Invariably, the Trailing Spouse is a wife. I've only met one who was male and he was my partner, so I'm not sure if that even counts. Wait! Make that two! Ah, but the other one was my second husband, so...
It doesn't bother me that this category is completely filled with women (except for my two guys): men aren't very good at trailing. My own experiences with breakfast-dishes-still-in-the-sink-when-I-got-home-from-work taught me that the hard way.
Moscow is filled with these women.
Though these trailing women don't intend to, as they pack up their households in London, Melbourne or Boston, they usually end up being housewives abroad. With a husband on a "hardship" expat salary, why bother looking for a job? How much more fun to spend hours with a realtor viewing potential flats near Patriarshy Prudy or testing out the local gyms' yoga class offerings or finding the right facialist at the Expat Salon.
To be honest, it's always been my dream, if not, apparently, my destiny, to be a Trailing Spouse.
When boredom eventually sets in for these chicks, four things customarily happen: women's clubs are joined (usually associated with the applicable embassy), nagging complaints about the husband's working hours begin in earnest, careers such as landscape-architecture or interior design are contemplated and some introductory courses paid for and, of course, babies are born.
I read a pamphlet aimed at helping Trailing Spouses here that included this helpful paragraph: "Do you have any personal needs for fulfilment? Some of these needs could include donating time to a non-profit organisation or starting a new hobby. This is a great way to reach out in your community and meet new people."
First of all, I'd love to meet the person without any need for personal fulfilment and second, I'm not sure this advice really works in Russia, except maybe through the applicable embassy. And that's a little doubtful because I've not heard of such things at the American Embassy.
Recently I met a Trailing Spouse who blew me away. She was English and had the ubiquitous baby. Her husband was an investment banker at one of the bigger firms, as she'd once been.
The minute I entered her flat I knew that she'd been compelled by circumstances to centre her life around this kid. Stuffed animals of every sort and size everywhere. Floors covered in protective rubber. The child's birthday carved in marble and hung above the fireplace. And at least 100 photos of the baby, including one of the infant and the husband in a designed-to-make-me-throw-up frame that had "Daddy and Baby" and "True Love" etched on it.
Everything about the flat and about the conversation revolved around the child, who had clearly become this woman's life goal and sole project to the exclusion of anything else (including hobby clubs at the British Embassy or typical housewife-type degrees).
"The baby," she said, "is the only important thing."
On the walk home from this woman's flat, my date and I played a game to test our observation skills.
"What's the kid's name?" I asked.
"Jason," my date, a New Zealander, answered.
"How many times was the name ‘Jason' spelled out with brightly coloured letters? Bonus points if you can remember the locations."
"Three times," he replied. "In the bath, on the door to the nursery and ... I forgot the other place."
"Wrong! Four times. You're missing the mobile above the crib and the photo frame on the coffee table!"
"OK," my date said. "Your turn: What was this woman's dream?"
"Baby," I answered, "I object to the question. A kitchen renovation is not a ‘dream.'"
"Still, you got it right!" he exclaimed.
After we got back to my place, my date went to pour some champagne for me to mix with my painkillers while I scribbled down this little ditty, which I called "Ode to the Trailing Spouse":
"Well, I guess you got what you set out to do, Your babbling child is more interesting than you."
xxoo
DD
Deidre Dare
Moscow News