I and my bike
It’s 14th of May 2014, the day of my returning from The Netherlands.
After more than 4 years it’s time to sit and think it over. It was one of my most intensive and brilliant life and career experience.
In April 2010 I was accepted by a European Agency in The Netherlands. I was thrilled reading that email. After two weeks I was packing and preparing to change the country and the whole life together with it.
That time was like a one-way ticket to the unknown. My flight to the Schiphol Airport happened to be on the day before all European flights were cancelled due to the Eyjafjallajökull volcano. It seemed to have waited to explode until I was there. How lucky I was! The flights were kept down for a week. What a nightmare for travellers. What a mess!
Once arriving in The Netherlands, I started feeling as an expat: riding my bike to work, riding my bike to school with my 7-year-old son, struggling with the rain, cold and wet.
I felt quite lost, but I had to hang out there because it was my decision in the end.
For the first time, I went by bike to work … as all the Dutch do. My husband taught me to. I was clumsy, it was obvious, but who cared? I was almost invisible in the middle of the tenth people hurrying up to school and work.
I had a wonderful job, and I was being appreciated for my contribution.
Yet my kid didn’t feel exactly the same. My husband was commuting between his job in Romania and us. Either he didn’t feel comfortable. It all turned out to be a very complicated life.
I asked my husband to start learning Dutch so he could find a job for himself too. In fact, I experienced myself learning Dutch. We’d rather try to learn Chinese. It could have been easier I suppose!
I have torn apart between my expat life and my family … at last, I chose my boys….
Well, it’s 14th of May 2014 … the day of returning home. Home - what a wonderful feeling again – home sweet home. It’s almost summer and already 25 degrees.
Home. Together. Happy again.