A friend of mine separated from his wife, she moved back to her hometown with their child which meant they’d be living not only in a different city but a different state. For the past few years their son has been an “unaccompanied minor” as he’s flown from one city to another to visit his Dad. By pure co-incidence G and I were on a flight with him once, I watched in awe as he boarded, charmed the cabin staff, and amused himself with technology. He was six at the time. When we were home last year he told us his Mum was going to move back, they’d all be living in the same place again.
“Wow!” said our third little traveller. “That’s great news!”
“Well, kind of. I’m going to lose my gold frequent flyer status” he said with genuine angst.
The third traveller offered his commiserations, it was certainly a low blow in his mind. He’d coveted those who got to sit in the lounge or up the front of the plane. When you’re one of four children it’s very rare that it’s your family chosen for the upgrade. And when your parents buy their tickets by looking for the cheapest possible budget airfare, you can be pretty sure the plane is going to be jam-packed.
Expat travel tends to work in three ways. Those who are given a business class flight home with no option to downgrade or change their ticket status, one ticket, one return flight. Those who are given the cash, which is the amount of a full priced flight home. And those who are on their own – it’s assumed their salary will cover the cost of a flight. We get the cash. It comes at the beginning of the year and it goes straight into an account marked “travel”. We then wait for the school dates to be announced and begin planning with my friend Krissy (world’s greatest travel agent) on what the cheapest way to get home is. This year we’re flying Cathay via Hong Kong, last year we flew Emirates via Dubai, we will fly economy and we will not be upgraded as we’re a group of six and it just never ever happens.
Apart from San Francisco.
We still talk about San Francisco.
Ahhhh San Francisco.
It was late at night when we arrived at the San Francisco International Airport with 4 children, 2, 4, 5, and 7. We were on our way to Sydney. We’d left from Houston that day and had already experienced delays and a change in route, it had been a long day and we hadn’t even really begun. G stepped forward at the Qantas counter while I held back and practiced crowd control. All 4 children simultaneously decided at that moment they wanted to sit in the stroller. It was just as I caught the stroller tipping backwards, that I caught G’s eye. With the legs and arms of my children splaying from all angles I copped a kick in the thigh by a stray leg as G mouthed the words “UPGRADE”.
I froze. Had they noticed the state of my children? I launched into the motherly whisper shout.
“EVERYBODY STAND UP STRAIGHT! Quick quick, stand up and look well behaved. Dad thinks we might get to sit up the front of the plane.”
In a nano second I had children who looked like they were auditioning for the sound of music.
With arms by their sides and huge grins, the first little traveller broke the silence “just act natural”.
The second traveller couldn’t help herself and whisper squealed “Really? Are we really going to get to sit up the front?”
“SSSSHHHHHH” we all said in unison.
G turned back towards us again. I looked at him expectantly, trying not to get too excited. He had the look. The look you get when you’re sure there must be some sort of mistake but you don’t dare ruin it. You don’t want to ask too many questions incase someone changes their mind. The boarding passes were now in his hand, he made an attempt to casually look down at the seating number. He mouthed three words slowly in our direction, his lips forming perfect circles, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“OH. MY. GOD”.
Row three.
As he walked in our direction trying desperately not to skip we all remained straight faced. This happens all the time. We always sit in the lounge, we always fly up the front. We always get to request our eggs be scrambled rather than sunny side up.
But we don’t.
Often in this expat world our children appear to be over indulged. Overseas holidays, Frequent Flyer programs, International schools with camps in foreign lands. An Inter-School baseball trip may be held in New Delhi one year and Oman the next. It all sounds very exotic, and it is, travel is exotic, unless your flight’s been bumped three times and the three out of four toilets on the plane are soaking wet and devoid of toilet paper.
My little travellers have witness some amazing sights; temples in Thailand, ski slopes in Canada, ice creams in California and turtles in Sri Lanka. They’ve also missed a few things; Saturday morning sport in Australia, regular visits with Granny, the freedom of growing up under the sunshine of an Australian democracy. They are not richer nor poorer for what we’ve given them, it’s just the way it is. This is the life we live.
It’s easy for children to sound ungrateful, or ill-informed of the realities of others. When the second little traveller asked me to sign her permission slip for an end of year party at a five star hotel recently, I teetered dangerously on the edge of making a mockery of her celebration.
“Good Lord! Your father and I haven’t even been to the pool at the St Regis!”
“Well maybe you should have had your grade 5 party in Doha Mum?”
I thought back to Grade 5. A blue brumby pushbike that I rode to the pool with a towel over my shoulder. Piano lessons I walked to after school. A basketball which I bounced precariously while protecting the emergency dollops of vegemite on each finger as I walked to the school courts. A week full of ballet, gymnastics, netball and whatever else I could convince my mother I needed to sign up for. A house that was a true home: comfortable, loving, we never moved. My grandmother next door, aunts and uncles up and down the street. A childhood rich in stories based out of the one location. Her childhood and mine are light years apart, neither is better, just different.
The front of the plane was amazing, decadent, and if we’d had to pay, impossibly expensive. We’ve had so many flights since then and each time I watch our little travellers looking expectantly for G to turn and mouth the word “upgrade”. We giggle about it now, make jokes as we wander by those enormous seats at the front of the plane, inevitably someone pretends to take a seat up the front “Oh? What? You mean we’re not up the front this time?”
Our children need to be warm, safe, dry, fed and most importantly, loved. We are not richer nor poorer for our location. We’re just us, living our reality, living the life that came our way. Our true wealth comes in the stories we create together, wherever we are.
So true! Am a new follower to your blog; Mom of 2 daughters and in the past 15 years we have lived in Vienna, Abu Dhabi, Ho Chi Minh City and Zurich…..not richer/not poorer; just different. I love it. Try telling others who are not travellers that though!! x
Love this and very very true…living the expat life in Manila has afford me to see this and with my little one already a sliver medallion member at the age of 3.5 and on his way to gold status, the upgrade part of this story resonates with me.
We got the upgrade once, when Miss 7 was a babe in arms and the kind kind woman at Heathrow wanted to make sure our seats were next to each other, even if she couldn’t give us the basinette. We smiled, and that person in business who was bumped up to first must’ve been pretty pleased too. Hearing your story with the 6 of you gives me hope that one day it could happen again!! I know that qantas counter at SF – that airport nearly killed me coming back from Chicago with Miss who was then 1.5. Married to an actual “New Australian” ex-pat pom (who revels in saying his kids grew here, he flew here when they are being particularly Aus) means we do a bizarre amount of travel sometimes. When the then 3 year lad old announced to me (in Beijing) what makes a real Heltel I realised that he has a life I could not have imagined even at 12. Oh for him a real hotel has a buffet breakfast and no stairs in the lobby (we’d had a fortnight in regional China, comfortable accommodation but stairs in the hotels)
This post is already one of my favourites. Spot on.
This is my favourite blog you’ve written so far, made me laugh with the whisper of ‘upgrade’ but also really resonated with me the fact that our children’s lives are not richer or poorer for being expats they are just different…this is our reality right now living in Singapore and our kids are happy, warm, secure, fed and loved…thankyou for making me smile and reminding me that it’s ok to have chosen ‘different ‘ at least for now 🙂
Wow, you’ve lived in some great locations. xx
Naaaaaw, thanks Justine. xxx
Do they still do that SF – Sydney flight? They stopped it soon after we got that upgrade. Sometimes we stay in a budget motel in Adelaide, you park at the front door and have breakfast delivered through a shoot in the wall. The kids think it’s AMAZING.
And then he’ll be on his second passport by the time he’s 5! 🙂
Our company used to pay for a business class flight when we were relocating. But then we had the “here is the ticket money, do what you want with it” type of deal.Try explaining to the kids why we didn’t always travel at the front of the plane and instead chose to go on holidays more often. Sitting in the front is so much more fun!!!
When I think that I didn’t set foot into a plane until I was 18 or so, and the youngest my kids took their first plane trip was 4 months, the eldest was 2,5 yo! My Grandparents took their first plane trip to visit us when our second was born, so they were respectively 76 and 74. And it was an overseas trip! It was also their last… We live in different worlds, and it’s easy to forget what we have and yearn for what the others have. But as you say: in the end, we’re not richer or poorer for it, and neither are our children. Just different 🙂
I NEED to know where this motel is!!! 😉
Great post, I’m new to your blog too. Firstly, congratulations on your upgrade, that is nothing short of miraculous. We save our points to upgrade ourselves but the kids wonder why we can upgrade ourselves every flight. Hmmmm… And BTW so true, wealth comes from your experiences and your stories.
Oh gosh, I wanted this life because I wanted my kids to be grateful for what they had, to know how privileges they are, to see the other side. Instead they see the other side I didn’t expect – private schools, classmates that have a nanny per kid, a housekeeper, a cook, a driver. Teachers who think they lie when they say mom cleans our house and cooks our meals. It is not worse or better, but it is certainly different from what I expected. Oh, and they are pretty good travelers, thank goodness 🙂
You are truly amazing with words Kirsty. Great post and so true.
That SF flight was cancelled a few years back – though we did fly it again, going to a wedding with both the kids. Nothing like a good motel breakfast through the little door! Yes, our kids do cope in a motel too! Just funny to contrast eh?
I really loved this post as it was just so spot on. We were upgraded once – Jakarta to Perth, me 8 months pregnant (no bubbly for me) and our three year old beside me, off home to have a baby – seriously the most perfect time for an upgrade out of all the flights we have taken. S x
Just laughing at the image you create of your children going from splayed limbs to Sound of Music. Magical. You should tweet this to airlines to see if anyone comes up with a much-deserved upgrade for you all.
Great post, love the sound of music part, love mouthing the words row 3, love the family joke of trying to sit up front and I love that your kids understand its not the norm but a HUGE treat. Thanks for sharing the real message of it just being “different” not better. We do sacrifice a lot by being expats or even just “relocatable” in your own country and its sad sometimes to be choosing not to live by family. But I love that we have the opportunity to make this choice and the community around us fills in the voids.
Oh how I love this one. Some weeks I think on all the things our family misses out on but obviously think of all the positives too. I so agree with not richer/ not poorer. Laughed out loud when you mentioned the sound of music change. Some of the comments my 7 yo comes out with about the lounges or hotels we stay in, makes me cringe and laugh. I never stayed in a hotel until I was 21 and that was a very dingy experience. So different to our kids who are used to at least 4 stars. Thank you again
The other day I was on an over-night, long-haul flight with my teen and pre-teen globe-trodden, travel-savvy kids watching a clearly unexperienced, travelling mum with a 6 month old toddler. It hit me (with a tinge of nostalgia but still grinning away inside) that this was me fourteen years ago. Enjoy it while it lasts. Love from Paris.
As a long term fellow expat (currently in the Maldives) I wake each morning looking forward to your beautiful writing. It can be so difficult explaining things without sounding like a spoilt & over-indulged wife. When I come home to Melbourne & the inevitable “what do you do” comes up with new people, I just say I live “up north”.