Expat Pets

I spent the day at the vets today – trying to arrange for our new puppy to get her vaccinations.  I started thinking about our expat pets and how they cope with life abroad.  I know many people who put off getting a pet until they get back to their home country – easier for all concerned and kinder on the animal is the usual rationale.  Our pets have always travelled with us, however and I recall only a short period of my  life when we had no pets.  Sadly we had to put down an otherwise healthy dog because of some severe mental health problems that caused him to threaten my baby sister and it was a few years before we could face taking another one in.  During that time, however, we pet sat for almost every friend and friend of a friend so we had an endless stream of loving pets  staying in our home.  

Pets also have to learn to adapt to the challenges of expat life.

There is no getting past the fact that some animals tug at your heart strings and become part of your life –  this is even more true as an expat when you see animals surviving in sometimes desperate situations and you feel you need to help them. The dynamic of life with pets as an expat is slightly different to when you live in your home country.  Rules on vaccination and ownership may be different and the quality of vet services can vary. Pets also have to adapt to new ways of life and new rules for behaviour.  In some countries dogs are welcomed - in others they are seen as unclean and a dog has to learn not to expect fuss from everyone it meets.  Language is another barrier - our dogs have always had to learn a smattering of command words in the local language so house keepers, security staff etc could give them commands.  One of our dogs learned commands in four languages (English, Dutch, Turkish and Spanish - pretty good for a mere animal!).

We have had cats in the past  notably a stray (Tom Kitten) who deigned to spend a few months with us in Norway before deserting to the next door neighbour who served a superior brand of tuna and Kipper – our Nigerian cat who protected us from snakes and brought us gifts of gecko and lizard tails instead of mice.  We had a Parrot once as well – also in Nigeria.  Pip the African Grey came to us as a bedraggled nestling caught by some people out in the bush when his mother was killed – to turn him away would have meant certain death so we fed him on mashed up fruit and built him a cage on the patio.  Sadly he had the most awful temper and could not stand to be handled but he more than compensated for this with his fantastically broad vocabulary – he was great fun to talk to and I swear he knew exactly what he was saying, his favourite trick being to call the cat and dog in my mother’s voice and then enjoy watching the ensuing fight.  Sadly Kipper did not want to stay with us (he found a wife a few doors down) and we could not get an export licence for Pip. Other pets have included goats, turkeys and sheep, usually presented to my parents as gifts, these farm animals lived with us in our gardens for a while before being raffled off for Christmas or Eid dinner for a lucky colleague (I remember my sister and I cried each time).  The most unusual pet was the turkey who faced his raffle with equanimity but was reprieved when the winner decided to start a turkey farm instead.

Much as I have loved our other pets I am, resolutely, a dog person.  We have had dogs in almost every country we have ever lived in and, unlike cats dogs never choose to leave their owners.  Jimmy, our Nigerian dog was a large blond Andalusian Shepherd Cross – he worked at our house every night as our guard dog and when we found out that the company who owned him were abusing him very badly we refused to let him go back and bought his contract.  The poor thing had been so badly beaten that he had been left with no single rib or tooth intact and he was so grateful for his deliverance from hell that he became the most faithful, protective dog I have ever met. I only ever heard him bark twice - both times it was to provide a much needed warning.  

He stayed with us through two postings in the Netherlands and one in Turkey before finally dying in Venezuela.  We were all distraught when he had to be put to sleep knowing that his life had been shortened by the beatings he had taken as a young dog but also knowing that we had given him an extra 8 years of life through taking him in.  Before Jimmy died we adopted a Venezuelan Street Dog – a Kakri that we called Eliza – we found her as a tiny puppy just able to walk that had been discarded on the rubbish heap and could not leave her.  She gave my parents many happy years in Venezuela, The Netherlands and England before dying  last year – the oldest Kakri ever to have lived at 13 years.  She is survived by an English rescue dog who, sadly, has never had the opportunity to travel anywhere.

Eliza - rescued from the streets of Maracaibo at little more than a
month old lived out her days in comfort as a Venezuelan Expatriate
in the Netherlands and UK.  

When we married my husband and I were gifted a tiny black puppy (with our full knowledge and consent).  Abbess came to live with us the day we returned from honeymoon and has been an integral part of our family ever since.  When we found out that we were going to Kazakhstan we had to decide whether to take our 10 year old dog with us or ask a family member to take her in.  We were concerned not only with  how she would handle the cold and snow but, more importantly how a dog who had always lived in the country with free access to woodland whenever she wanted  and never needed a lead would cope in an apartment in a city.  We had no shortage of volunteers to have her but when push came to shove we could not imagine life without her.

Bessie grew up in the English countryside.
A far cry from the city of Astana where she now
takes her daily walks.  

Bessie, more than any other member of the family, has found it difficult to adapt to life in Astana.  The harsh winters have aged her much more quickly than we expected.  We brought a middle aged dog to Astana and now have an elderly grande dame to take care of.  We would not be without her, however, and every evening, when she curls up next to us on the sofa or when she comes to ‘help’ put the children to bed we know that we made the right decision.

Bessie finds expat life in Astana somewhat of a challenge,
particularly the heavy snow and extreme cold. 

Luckily fate has given us the chance to give her a new lease of life – a few months ago a tiny black pup was found wandering the campus of the local university.  The pictures of the puppy showed that she looked very like Abbess and we decided to adopt her.  Bessie has taken to her role as surrogate mother and is enjoying her chance to teach a pup its manners.  Perdita has wormed her way into our hearts and, as with every dog before, we now cannot imagine life without her.

Bessie and Perdita are more mother and daughter than friends.
Bess helps to train Perdita and is assiduous in looking after her.

The dogs will come with us when we leave Kazakhstan – so once Perdita is vaccinated I will have the pleasure of learning how to get a pet passport from the relevant Kazakh ministry.  Each country has its own requirements for pet immigration – some easy some (like the UK) fiendishly difficult.  I am not yet sure when or where we are going when we leave Kazakhstan but, barring some unforeseen tragedy, the pets will be coming with us.

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New Year

We had a wonderful New Year – spending the evening of 31 December with friends before togging up to brave the cold Astana winter to enjoy Champagne and Fireworks in the snow.  We spent New Year’s Day with another group of friends enjoying a champagne brunch at a local hotel. 

I started to think about New Year traditions and how we celebrate and I realised that although we have a set of Christmas traditions that we keep wherever we are (we often postpone Christmas celebrations to another day if we are unable to enjoy our traditional Christmas when we are travelling) our New Years have been as variable as there have been celebrations.

When I was a child, growing up in Norway we would congregate with friends for house-parties similar to this most recent New Year.  In Nigeria the whole camp would gather together in the club house – the adults moving from group to group enjoying conversation, Guinness and Star Beer while the children played games and went swimming, when it was all over the family groups would separate to walk home through the balmy tropical air watching fireflies dance along the way.  

In Turkey we would also gather at the club to dance to a mix of Turkish and western music, just before midnight our Turkish friends would douse the lights and sing a very touching traditional song about a detachment of soldiers sent to fight (and die) the Yemen in the first world war.  I do not know whether this is a Turkish tradition or not but we found it very beautiful.

Other years we would have a quiet celebration at home with only the close family watching fireworks from around the world on the television and a long walk on New Year’s day.  One year we took in a show in London before running back to the car and driving back home to see in the New Year with my parents, quite bizarre to have seen the preparations for the fireworks and the mounting crowds and then seeing the main event on TV, much more comfortable than standing in a cold crowd.  My husband’s family do keep a tradition every year called ‘First Foot’.  One of the males has to leave the house before midnight, after the year turns he will knock on the door and be invited in, he will bring a lump of coal to the house to symbolise good fortune for the year ahead. 

The exigencies of expat life  mean that people move on to new adventures so every year is different, even if we stay in the same place there are different people to celebrate with.  I have no idea where we will celebrate New Year next year and whether it will be with a large group, with close friends or just family but the wonderful thing about New Year is that it is a fresh new start.  I wish everyone reading a very happy and prosperous New Year and good luck for the 12 months ahead. 

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Christmas Pudding

Towards the end of November every year I make the Christmas Pudding.  This traditional end to an English Christmas Lunch is a firm favourite with everyone in the family.  Here in Astana  Christmas is celebrated in January per the Orthodox calendar so we celebrate twice, this means that I cook up two puddings, one for our small family celebration in December and a larger one for the January Christmas when we usually have friends over to celebrate. 

There is no hard and fast recipe for pudding so it is very forgiving if you cannot get the main ingredients.  I usually throw together 450g of dried fruit (in the UK I use currants, sultanas, candied peel and prunes) with a wine glass of Mead,  Madeira or Sherry.  Leave the dried fruit to soak for 2-3 days before throwing in 100g plain flour, and 275g mix of suet and breadcrumbs, 150g muscvado sugar, lemon zest, a peeled and grated apple, 2 tablespoons of molasses, treacle or honey depending on what I have in the cupboard, 3 large eggs and mix well.  I also add koekkruiden (a mix of Cinnamon, Nutmeg, Allspice, Ground Cloves, Ground Nutmeg, Ground Ginger, ground Cardamom, ground Star Anise and Mace my sop to my Dutch heritage) but traditionally a pudding would contain cinnamon and cloves.

English tradition calls for every member of the family to stir the pudding and make a wish while they do so.  It is also traditional to put sliver charms into the mix for example a wishbone for luck or an anchor to give people safe harbour in the coming year.  When in the UK I trawl antique shops for a set of charms, I could buy a new set but that would take some of the fun out of the hunt.  For the moment I use coins, (cleaned thoroughly in coca-cola before putting in the mix).

The mix then goes into one large or two small well greased pudding basins, I use a traditional ceramic basin which means I need to  seal the top with cling and muslin or with foil but it is possible to buy plastic basins that come with their own lids.  Mine is plain but I covet a beautiful patterned basin just for Christmas.  Mason and Cash, a famous bakeware manufacturer in the UK designs a new Christmas pattern every year but I have never been able to justify the expense when I have a perfectly good basin, after all the pudding is served on a plate so I am the only person who would see it.

Once the pudding is transferred and safely in the basin it needs to be steamed.  This can be done on the hob but that takes up space and needs to be monitored to make sure that it does not go dry.  I tend to steam in a low (110/120 degree C) oven, leaving the puddings for about 6 hours for the first steaming.  On Christmas day I will either steam the pudding for an hour or two while we eat our meal or, if we forget, I put it in the microwave. 

When it is time to serve the pudding goes onto a plate and we warm some high percentage alcohol in a metal ladle (a lighter is better than matches for this).  When the alcohol starts to smoke we pour it over the pudding, turn out the lights and set it on fire.  The flickering flames look spectacular.

Christmas Pudding set alight and ready to be served.

The pudding is traditionally served with brandy butter - a mix of butter, icing sugar and brandy but I usually swap the same liquor I used in the pudding for the brandy.

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Mincemeat

Christmas is one of those times of the year when thoughts turn to family and tradition.  Expatriates are not always able to return home to their families but it is possible to bring many traditions with you when you travel.  Food is possibly one of the most evocative traditions we can export, the smell, the taste immediately bring us back to a particular time and place. 

Before I lived in England I had never heard of or tasted mincemeat.  This Christmas sweetmeat is a heady concoction of dried fruits, sugar and spices steeped in alcohol and fat.  It  is traditionally used as a filling in small bite sized pies and the taste is pure ‘Christmas’ for me, so much so that I can eat it straight from the jar.

Most English recipe books will have their own version of the mixture but there is no need to be exact about the ingredients.  I usually mix equal amounts of raisins, currants, sultanas, candied peel, chopped fresh apple and suet (shredded beef fat) with a part and a half of soft brown sugar.  I then add some lemon and orange zest and squeeze the juice from the fruit into the mix.  I then stir in a generous helping of ground nutmeg, cinnamon, mace and cloves.  If I am not expecting children to eat the mix I might add some chopped walnuts or almonds.

The dry ingredients for mincemeat are best left overnight.

The mix is best left overnight to infuse.  Instead of cooking up on the stove I use Delia Smith’s trick of putting the mix in a low oven for a few hours, towards the end I put some jars in the oven to sterilise.  The result looks revolting, the suet melts and the whole mix swims in fat.  While the mincemeat cools I add some brandy, cognac or other suitable alcohol (mead gives a lovely taste if you can get it) before decanting into the jars. 

The cooked mix looks revolting, the suet melts and coats all the other ingredients.

It can be kept for many months and the flavours improve the longer it is left but it is possible to use it almost immediately. 

I like to make a range of mince pies – the traditional shortcrust ones work very well but there are -endless variations - little half moons of filled puff pastry are very appetising as are filo pastry parcels.  Last year I made mini mincemeat Danish pastries which were very popular.  

Mincemeat Danish Pastries - yummy.

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A photo tour of Astana

Before we came to live here Astana was just a name on a map – a remote capital under the achingly beautiful blue sky in the middle of the endless Central Asian Steppe.  Remote Astana may be but it is also vibrant, modern and beautiful.

As part of the Piri-Piri Lexicon 'show me around your neighbourhood' world tour I am writing about our daily life in Astana.  

Astana  is the second coldest capital in the world – the temperature drops below freezing in November and the city is frozen until March.  Temperatures of between -20 and -32 Celsius are common and it is not unknown for the temperature to drop below -45.  Add the windchill factor from the fierce, ceaseless northern winds and the actual temperature is enough to freeze the car exhaust fumes as the cars drive.

The City freezes in November and remains frozen for five months. 
The cold temperatures mean there is no freeze thaw cycle so the
snow remains clean and beautiful.  The winter skies are often clear and blue. 

Astana is, however a dichotomy, a city of opposites.  While our winters may be brutal we bask in a beautifully warm summer.  Once the temperature warms up the flower beds bloom in a profusion of colours and walks in the park become heady with their scent.  Fountains are all over the place, providing a cooling respite from a walk through the city. 

Beautiful, fragrant flower beds are laid out in tengrist (ancient religious) patterns.

Getting around can be a challenge, particularly in the winter when the temperature drops.  Public Buses are frequent and warm but the wait can be cold.  Most people prefer to hitch-hike with a gypsy cab - a great way to practice Russian and Kazakh skills.  We bit the bullet and bought our own car which makes life much easier.

Any car can become a cab - just stick your hand out and wait for someone
to stop.  Rides cost about $2.

Our children go to British Independent school Haileybury Astana here in Kazakhstan and there are several other international schools including an American School and a Turkish School.  Local schools are found throughout the city and pupils are educated from the age of 7.  The Schools tend to be large, low buildings designed around functionality for the extreme weather.  Local schools will close if the weather gets too bad - this is to make sure that children (who often walk to school) are not out in very cold weather.  The temperature at which children must stay at home varies depending on age. 

Shopping in Astana can be has high end or as low end as you wish - all the prestigious malls have supermarkets and they make for an easy one stop shop, particularly for dry ingredients.  Supermarkets, however high end, are not, however, the best place to find fresh ingredients, particularly vegetables.  When I need to buy fresh produce  I tend to visit one of the covered bazaars in the old (right bank) part of town.  My particular favourite place is Artyum a five floor emporium.  The ground floor has a good selection of stalls selling fresh fruit and vegetables, dried fruit, pulses and spices.  The shops on the upper floors sell everything from household equipment to sporting goods, coats to lingerie and dogfood to furniture.  

Stall holders in Artyum display their wares.

Produce is always artfully displayed.

Astana is being built before our eyes – go away for a month and construction will have started on a new building. The right bank of the River Ishim comprises the original town but the left bank is the bustling centre of the new metropolis.  Wide boulevards are lined with prestigious apartment complexes and statement architecture. 

New buildings spring up every few months –
the ‘Death Star’ is to be the new National Library.  

The skyline of part of the left bank of Astana – cranes are a constant presence
in the city as something is always being built.  Most buildings are commercial
on the lower floors with apartment accommodation above.

Most of the accommodation is comprised of apartments in large square buildings built around a central courtyard containing playgrounds, sports facilities and small convenience stores (although skyscrapers such as the ones in the background in the photograph above are becoming more popular. Each lobby has a concierge responsible for ensuring services to the apartments are managed and to deal with maintenance and cleaning of the common parts.  A good concierge can be a useful friend and ally - ours pays all our bills for us and keeps our plants when we are on holiday.

Typical apartment buildings as seen from the Baiterek.
School 66, a local high school, is seen in the mid distance.

The playgrounds in the apartment buildings are popular during the summer when children will stay up to play as late as 10 or 11 at night. Most of the parks in the city will have bouncy castles, plagrounds and small electric scooters for hire.  

A typical summer entertainment complex in a park -
electric cars are very popular and can be hired for five
minutes at a time.

Even in the winter intrepid children can be seen climbing and swinging on the equipment or building a small ice slide but the cold is too intense to stay out for very long.  For this reason covered playgrounds are very common and the malls will give over a large amount of space to indoor entertainment complexes.  One mall has a climbing wall and arcade, the Khan Shatyr has an animatronic dinosaur park, a monorail and a log flume not to mention dodgems and many smaller rides.  It also has an indoor beach complete with water slides and a beach volleyball court.  

Astana's indoor beach at the top of the Khan Shatyr
we can relax by the beach even in a -40 blizzard.

The climbing wall is a popular attraction at one of the malls.

Astana is a very young city with a high birth rate - almost
all malls will have a toddler friendly soft play where children
can let off steam over the winter.

If you get bored of using the treadmill in the winter the Khan
Shatyr has an indoor running track along the edge where
willing victims can excercise in full view of the shoppers.
N.B. we have never yet seen anyone brave enough to use it.

The main boulevard on the left bank runs from West to East.  The centre of the boulevard is a pedestrianized garden walkway allowing people to promenade from the Khan Shatyr (a Norman Foster designed gigantic tent containing a shopping centre, amusement park, beach complex and restaurants) all the way down to the Ak Orda – the Kazakh White House.  Along the way  you walk past the new Astana Opera House,  Government ministries in the shape of salt and pepper pots, a concert hall built in the shape of a Dombyra (the national instrument), or a tulip depending on who you talk to and various spectacular skyscrapers.  

Norman Foster’s giant tent the Khan Shatyr (the tent of the King) dominates the
western end of the city.  The tent houses a shopping centre, restaurant court,
supermarket, theme park, cinema and beach with swimming pools and waterslides.  

Pedestrians relax in the gardens leading to the Ak Orda (the Palace of the President). 
The golden pepper pots are government ministries.  

Designed by Manfredo Nicoletti in the shape of a Dombyra or a tulip
the beautiful concert hall on the banks of the river is one of
Astana's many cultural venues.

In the centre of the boulevard pedestrians find themselves at the Baiterek monument.  The structure is an allegory of a Kazakh myth – representing a tree in which a magic bird lays an egg to protect it from a voracious dragon.  The white ‘tree’ is topped by a huge golden egg which contains a viewing platform giving unparalleled 360 degree views of the growing city.  The bar/restaurant serves drinks and snacks and is the perfect place to relax and watch the sun set over Astana and the Steppe beyond.

The Baiterek – the monument in the centre of the left bank. The photograph shows
the Baiterek lit up for the Nauruz (Persian New Year) celebrations.  

The Baiterek is surrounded by tree lined gardens and dominates
the centre of the Left Bank.

From the observation deck it is possible to spot almost all of Astana’s statement buildings. The government complexes are a short walk away, further away towards the airport the sporting complexes stand out on the edge of the city – the football stadium with the roof that can be closed for the winter, the ice palace and the velodrome built in the shape of a bicycle helmet.  Closer in to the centre of the city is the Triumph of Astana a modern (and vast) take on the Moscow Seven Sisters, Mega, the shopping centre shaped like a doughnut, the flying saucer that houses the circus, the sombrero that houses the palace of children and the building shaped like a pot within which there is a restaurant and music hall. 

The ‘flying saucer’ houses the Astana circus – a popular place
for families to go and enjoy their weekends.  More apartment buildings
are seen behind.

From the Baiterek  it is also possible to see over to the other side of the river.  In another large and very beautiful park is another Norman Foster creation,  the Pyramid Palace of Peace and Reconciliation where Kazakhstan hosts a triennial meeting of the leaders of world religions down to the Kazakh Eli national monument and the Academy of Music that everyone calls ‘the Dog Bowl’ because it is, well, shaped exactly like a dog’s bowl. 

Norman Foster’s Pyramid of Peace and Reconciliation dominates the park
across the river from the Ak Orda.  The Pyramid houses an art gallery,
library, café, museum, souvenir shop, conference centre and concert hall.  

This giant ‘dog bowl’ houses the National Music Academy.

I love visiting the Baiterek because it allows me to enjoy the whole city.  When my feet are firmly on the ground, however, I love nothing better than to walk along the river Ishim.  In the summer wide boulevards are the favourite haunts of courting couples, fitness fanatics, skateboarding children, proud parents pushing prams and just about everyone in between.  The river is calm and heavily managed, people fish or swim along the edges while pleasure boats take tours down the centre, there is even a rowing club. 

The wide embankments are the perfect for promenading
the river gives a different perspective on Astana.

In the winter, however, the river freezes solid very early on and is used as another pleasure park.  Ice rinks will be set up at various points and the city builds vertiginous and very fast ice slides down the embankments.  Snow mobiles power up the centre of the river’s course while cross country skiers enjoy their exercise.  Come February there is an ice rally – the sinuous and slippery course testing the skills of even the best drivers.  

The river becomes an ice playground in the winter time.

I hope you have enjoyed the tour of Astana.  If you enjoyed it you can read more entries in the series here.

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How to make passata

Passata is a staple ingredient in many recipes my family like to eat.  I use it in most tomato based recipes such as Bolognese, Lasagne and to add flavour to many stews.

Passata is very easy to find in most European and British supermarkets but it can be difficult to source elsewhere.  Luckily it is a simple, quick recipe and, for those who grow their own, a particularly effective way to preserve tomatoes over the winter, much like my favourite sun dried tomatoes, this passata gives a taste of summer even in the middle of winter.  In Kazakhstan we can buy tomatoes year round but they do get more expensive over the winter.  I have seen jars of 'tomato juice' in the supermarkets that look like passata but it is so easy that I often make my own by preference.

Because supplies are easy to come by here I make it in small batches but if I find a batch of particularly high quality tomatoes or if I am living somewhere they become unavailable I will process every tomato I can lay my hands on to see me through to the next crop.

To make the passata heat some olive oil in a pan with a bruised clove of garlic.  Quarter the tomatoes and leave them in the pan on a medium heat for 12-15 minutes shaking intermittently.  The tomatoes will start to break down during the cooking process and release their juice.  I understand that most Italian kitchens will have a special mouli or tomato mill to process the passata, this saves time but is not necessary.  I put the mix in the blender and then pass it through a sieve - it is possible to skip the blender and just sieve the mix but it is much quicker to use the blender.

Transfer the passata into sterilised jars then seal - I find these keep for about a month.  If I want to keep the mix for any longer I freeze it - some in large freezer bags for tomato based recipes and some in smaller baby food size pots to add to stews for extra flavouring.

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Modern technology and staying in touch with family and friends.

The autumn seems to bring a spate of family birthdays – my children, mother in law, step mother, sister in law, niece, father and my sister all have birthdays falling between September and November.  In years gone by we were not able to call family for birthdays, we could not even be sure that a card would make its way to us.  Luckily three out of the four main family birthdays (my mother, father and my birthday) all fell in school holidays but my little sister’s falls squarely in term time. 

I remember the first year I spent away from her, alone at boarding school knowing she was in Nigeria with my family, celebrating a birthday but unable to get any message to her at all.  I had left a card with our parents at the end of the holidays but I felt very bad about not being able to be in contact. Consequently I was very excited, when she moved to a prep school in the UK.  My school allowed students in my year and above (age 13) to make telephone calls.  The other girls in my year, knowing I never made calls let me go ahead so I could ‘phone before my sisters bed time.  I remember getting through to her house-mistress and asking if I could wish my sister happy 9^th birthday only to be told that only parents and grand parents were allowed to call.  I explained our family situation and that nobody but me would be calling but they would not allow us to speak.  I could hear my sister pleading on the other end of the phone, wanting desperately to speak with me, before the phone was put down.  Luckily I had been able to send a card but I remember that evening as one of the most upsetting of my school life. 

The intervening years saw a lot of changes – when I went to school our post would take 3 months – I would dutifully write a letter home each week knowing that I would get to Nigeria before the letters.  The letters I received and read were full of out of date news but still precious as a tangible link to my family.  When I was a little older my family moved from Nigeria to Turkey, our post was faster and the school gave us a special dispensation to use the fax machine meaning we could receive and send letters each week.  By the time I went to university I had an email account and could send weekly letters directly to my parents through my father’s work email.  My sister’s school had not yet enabled email but I was able to call and send mail through the UK post. 

It really did feel, particularly when my parents were in Nigeria, that they were completely out of touch and that I was on my own.  When I was 12 I flew to Ireland to spend a half term with my grandparents, due to a mix up no one turned up to meet the 'plane.  The airline called my grandparents but also, despite my pleading, called my father’s UK office.  When the message that I was stranded in Dublin got through to them my parents were understandably frantic, it took them some days to get a call through to my aunt and be reassured that I was ok. 

Even in the late 1990’s we had some problems with communications.  One Sunday morning at university I received a call from my sister - due to delays she missed a connection on her flight home to Venezuela and was being re-routed.   She had tried to call our parents to let them know but to no avail.  I called home with no luck, I tried the office but my father was not in.  I asked for his cell phone number (it was too expensive to call normally so I did not have it) but for security they would not give it to me.  I finally managed to speak to someone who agreed to get a message through to him, just in time as he was about to leave for the airport.  My last option would have been to call Caracas airport and ask for an announcement to be put over the tannoy but whether or not they would have agreed to do this I have no idea.  When my sister got home and they investigated the problems with the telephone it turned out the line had been severed by a joy shot.  You just can’t plan for such happenings. 

I think about all the challenges we used to have to deal with just to keep in touch I am very thankful that it is so different these days.  My children speak to their family every week on skype – just the other day they even put on a ‘gymnastics show’ on the webcam.  When we first came to Kazakhstan I had to travel back to the UK for two weeks each month but I could still read them a bedtime story.  We are always contactable and available - mobile costs may be high but are much more affordable than in the past.  Our UK contract ‘phones are always charged and can be used for family to contact us (at little cost to them) in an emergency and they also have our Kazakh mobile numbers.  

Facebook and email mean that grandparents, extended family and friends can see the most up to date family photographs, they are able to stay in touch effortlessly and there  is no time-lag, no delay in news. We can send flowers and gifts to our family at the touch of a button, the children may not get the opportunity to browse shop shelves for gifts but they can help choose something from the internet.  The internet even allows our children to show off their school work.  Post from Kazakhstan can take some time so I regularly photograph key pieces of work and share them with instant messengers such as 'whats app'.  

Even if our children go to boarding school modern legislation means that they will be able to take full advantage of all these means of communication.    What a wonderful world we live in these days!

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