Ex-Pat Moms Unite!

By Rachel

I won’t go to Thursday’s La Leche meeting, since I’m not breastfeeding anyone at the moment. But I did go to Book Club last night. And I did chat outside the gym on Tuesday morning. And I did visit the playground on Sunday afternoon. Such is the life of an ex-pat mom in Ulaanbaatar.

I see many of these women at the Star Gym, which has been a mini-America for me this year. The Star Apartments, where the gym is, houses all the US Embassy staff, several other ambassadors and various other NGO and mining company folks. This is the least Mongolian place in Ulaanbaatar, and residents (or their companies and governments) pay handsomely to live here.

This is a strange life that I have gotten a glimpse into, because most of these women move every few years as new posts are given. The women who stay here receive a revolving door of new friends and neighbors. So things like book clubs and La Leche are more than just information groups, or pleasant gatherings. They are the places where you can connect and try to make friends quickly enough that you can make a community for yourself before you move on.

I know and like the women in this group to varying degrees. There are a few who I really hope I’ll stay friends with and others who I can only marvel at. But the whole life seems very challenging to me. There are aspects to living all over the world that would be great, but having to reinvent a social world on a regular basis wouldn’t be one of them. One woman pointed out, though, that you get good at it. And you stop being shy. If you think you like someone, you start being friends right away, because a slowly evolving friendship is impractical.

But the already isolating life of being a mom with a husband who works long hours is compounded in UB. It is compounded by the weather, the small social scene, the judgments of the Mongolian nannies, the lack of sidewalks, and the limited outlets for connecting with others or for having your own community of people who you actually like, rather than the people who happen to be there. But you do the best you can.

And so, the Book Club. Last night’s book was The Four Agreements. For anyone who has read the children’s book Bud, Not Buddy, The Four Agreements is basically an adult version of “How to have a funner life and make a better liar out of yourself” except there are no lies, and little fun. For those of you who have watched Dr. Phil, the book is basically a new-agey Dr. Phil and the book club meeting became a large Dr. Phil group therapy session. This is all good, in its place.

And its place was a suburban Virginia living room, transported to Mongolia, with people I would never really know under other circumstances, lots of wine, kids running in and out, blue corn tortilla chips, and some good, instant friends. (Or at least one.)