[Diary of an Expat Bride] Absence makes the heart grow fonder

As an American, I am no stranger to travelling far for work or to long business trips. My father travelled for much of my childhood, and my mother, sisters and I managed to make do. The situation, of course, was not ideal, but we managed to keep the family together. When Can became a pilot and got a job with a reputable company, we knew that before he officially started at the company he would go through a lengthy training process. We knew that the first year of our marriage would be spent with a lot of time apart. We had been together for over four years and felt like our relationship was pretty strong; life had thrown a lot at us already and our love and respect for each other had overcome it. However, we hadn’t factored in the fact that I would get pregnant so fast after our nuptials.

Could our new marriage survive a problematic pregnancy and our prolonged separation? Two weeks after we found out we were pregnant, Can was sent for training to Antalya. From the moment we knew we would be separated, we promised ourselves that we wouldn’t go more than two weeks without visiting each other. Skype was also a life saver as it allowed us to see and talk to each other frequently. I could hold down the home front, but staving off loneliness especially at such a vulnerable time was challenging.

I have complained in this column at times about my desire for alone time and personal space, two things most expats soon realize are hard to find in Turkey. However, the benefit is that very rarely have I felt lonely in Turkey. Always I have had close friends or my husband near to help and not make me feel so solitary. Although a foreigner, I now belonged to a community who stepped in to fill in for my family. When Can left, this community stepped up even further to better take care of me. Not only my friends but Can’s as well stopped by to help me with grocery shopping, dinner, cleaning and running errands. Can’s friends were integral as we moved house, helping me lift boxes, travelling back and forth from the old to new flat and deal with difficult repairmen.

Can hated that he couldn’t be with me personally to help me through all of these challenges. He got frustrated and angry easily, as did I. I didn’t resent Can for not being there physically, but I couldn’t help but feel frustrated myself. Unfortunately this would sometimes boil over into small quarrels when we would see each other every two weeks. Over the phone and through Skype, we each would try and put a positive spin on things. I didn’t want to distract him with my pregnancy woes while he was going through a difficult training; he similarly didn’t want to upset me in my “delicate” condition with his flight problems. Without realizing it, we were slowly shutting the other out of certain aspects of our daily lives. For us, this was not good and resulted in unnecessary pecking during the few occasions we would see each other. Can hated living out of a hotel room and eating out for every meal. I hated being cooped up in our house alone. Thankfully, we both saw the danger signs and were able to sit and talk our separation problems out.

When Can finally finished his training and officially moved back home during my eighth month of pregnancy, we had to re-adjust to living together again. Both of us had gotten used to living alone and had to remember what it was like to live together again. While I loved cuddling next to my husband once again at night, I remembered how irritated it made me when he would throw his socks on the floor whenever he took his shoes off at the door. He loved being home but remembered how much he hated the cluttered workspace I thrived in. His attempts to organize my desk were met with irritation, as were my attempts to fold and put away his socks.

All of the minor arguments we had fought about and resolved years ago were once again pushed back to the surface as we learned to coexist in the same flat. We tried to push away our irritation for the other’s bad habits and tried to not blame the other’s culture. For example, I learned not to label Can’s fussiness as Turkish while he learned not to label my sloppiness as American. Our issues were problems that same culture couples also endure, as we both logically knew. Still, it was difficult in the heat of the moment with hormones raging to not take my frustration out on Can and his culture and vice versa.

These problems are shared by couples around the globe and not unique to us alone. However, our response to solving them factored on our cross-cultural status. This last month we not only had to get to know each other again, but we had to prepare ourselves to be first-time parents. Our lives were about to change even further, and we had to spend most of our energy preparing for parenthood rather than re-reconciling differences we had reconciled years ago.

No matter how much we fought, no matter how irritated I got with Can, there was still a warm feeling inside me whenever I woke up in the morning and realized that he was finally home. Our house, which had previously seemed so empty, finally seemed complete when he came home for good. Even if he was working in the office, I could still feel his presence while I washed dishes in the kitchen, and it made me so happy. Our months of separation had taught me to truly appreciate how wonderful it was to have him home.

My mom, who had lived through similar trials, told me this countless times. She told me to cherish these simple homely moments, which I vowed to do. If I had a choice to go to a fancy restaurant or stay at home and have a simple dinner with Can, I would definitely choose the latter. Being apart for a prolonged time had made the simple act of just spending time together at home doubly precious and valued. It sounds funny, but we even enjoyed fighting with each other that month, since we were at least fighting together in person!