Getting Married? Here’s Some Good Advice.

by Brett Atkinson on

My recent post about the wedding at Prague’s Ruzyne airport got me recalling my own marriage to Carol in 2003. Travel’s a big part of our life together. Even though we’re both from Auckland, we actually met in Thailand, and more often than not it’s her photographs which complement my words.

When we got married we’d already been living together for several years, so certainly didn’t need anything to set up a shared home. Instead we made a radical travel-oriented change to the traditional wedding register. Rather than ask for toasters, blenders and bed linen, our wedding invitation listed a range of experiences across five countries we would be visiting on our honeymoon. Guests were invited to “buy” us one of the experiences which ranged from cheap cafe meals to a helicopter ride around Manhattan.

When we got to each experience we had a local take a photo of us which we then sent out with our “Thank You” cards once we got home.

Cynical readers might say we were “just asking for money”, and hey, they may be right.

But the idea was a real hit with our guests and we made sure we didn’t get loads of unwanted stuff clogging up our small apartment. And we had a longer honeymoon than we could have normally afforded.

Band on the Run: Train Crashes the Party

by Ember Swift on

I have been thinking a lot about trains lately.

On August 4th in Prince George, BC, there was a head-on collision of two CN trains just on the edge of town. The resulting derailment created a huge fire that burned into the next day and threatened the nearby Fraser River with contamination from the small gasoline spill. One tanker was northbound carrying the oil product and the other was southbound carrying lumber. The reports say it didn’t cause any “significant” environmental damage.

Isn’t even a little bit of damage significant?

This story caught my attention because it seems to be in line with my life at the moment. I’m heading through beautiful Jasper National Park en route back to Edmonton towards a flight home and I’m thinking philosophically. The elegant mountains and the crystalline lakes, black bears (I’ve seen three!), elk and moose (two!) are all setting the scene for a little self-reflection. Nature does it to me every time.

Beautiful. Pristine. Not deserving of any damage, no matter how “minor” it is deemed to be.

I’ve come to a point in my life when I can see that it has so many possible courses – performance, touring, composition, recording or record production, teaching, writing, language study, activism, China – and I’m wondering at what point it will all collide, head on and messy. Somehow, this weekend’s train crash struck me awake with that inevitability.

(Why so foreboding, Ember? What happened to having a good time? Enjoy the party!)

I was in Prince George when that crash happened. I was there because it was Lyndell’s sister’s wedding and we were able to attend (despite its remote location) thanks to the Edmonton gig and the Wells gig that framed it perfectly.

Anyway, it was the morning of the wedding day when we saw smoke in the sky across town. That cloud hung there all day long and into the night (the fire was visible for miles) and the commotion shut down a couple of roads and was all over the radio and television. Detours were put into place and life for Prince George carried on without much fuss. The bride and all of the wedding party were nonplussed about it all and the ceremony and celebration went off without a hitch.

(Well, except for them getting hitched of course – har, har!)

Still, it was on my mind.

I remember an incident in high school when two students – one rushing east down one hallway, the other heading south along another – collided head on and emptied classrooms with their yelling. Both were hurrying, head bent, towards their single-minded destinations. At that hallway juncture, both hugged the corner as tightly as possible for ultimate speed and efficiency and they arrived at the point of collision at the exact same moment with the exact same impossible angle to see the other or to swerve around and avoid the impact. One got a mild concussion and the other a giant goose egg but nothing terribly serious. It was forgotten the next day.

“Two Students Rushing Towards Their Futures Collide: No Significant Damage.”

I thought of all this when I was reading the online headlines about the CN crash. One talks about it being a result of “management error,” which (now that I’m gratefully back being self-managed) got me thinking about my renewed active role in all this coordination. Responsibility.

It’s so much easier to blame someone else, isn’t it?

As an artist/musician, I have been five months without management and I couldn’t be happier to no longer be in that working relationship. To say it was toxic is an understatement and saying goodbye to that bad energy in my life and career was one of the best decisions I’ve made in awhile. Of course, I learned a lot – plenty – and will always be grateful for that learning, but two and a half years of working with management does not make me an advocate of hiring a manager when asked by other artists. Quite the opposite, actually.

The trouble is, since I “broke up” with my management company, I’ve realized that I don’t really want to do it either. So much paperwork and responsibility all the time and it makes me want to reverse this locomotive and ship myself back to China where my career wasn’t in my face needing maintenance, needing management.

So, “management error” sounds quite right to me, because there were a lot of those in my two and a half years of having one. But, I’m ashamed to have become accustomed to the deflection of responsibility that having the management of your career in someone else’s hands offers.

I guess it’s like letting someone else drive the train, so-to-speak.

Deep breath.

This time in my life reminds of the end of high school, a time when it was all about options and the anxiety that they presented. Because options are choice – equal levers on the train tracks leading to new lines that are just as easy and hard to navigate as the old ones were. And these new lines lead into other landscapes that are no less beautiful than the ones I’m writing this in. Everything is possible.

I guess we’re all just as liable to be on a crash course with our futures as we are to be leading ourselves safely down the tracks. The trick is making it all work together without the collisions, like a symphony, like a network of trains, like a marriage.

So, throughout the wedding, the train crash haunted me – a day to witness a couple’s significant choice: two people coming together in lifetime union.

Sounds like a soft collision to me.

Maybe not all collisions are unsafe and cause damage.

Maybe.

I’m just going to choose to believe that and stop worrying. Enjoy the party, kick back and laugh more. After all, no mistake is going to be intentional and it all leads to learning, no matter how messy it becomes. And this natural world — this gorgeous country — is just too beautiful to not enjoy while we still can.

[It was at that conclusion that I rolled down the windows of the car and started taking pictures.]

Trust.

A Canadian In Beijing: Two-Wheeled Matrimony

by Ember Swift on

I’ve been here for three weeks and I’m pretty sure that yesterday was my first “bad day.” Okay, perhaps “bad” is the wrong word for it. I’d have to say that what started as a good day became a low day, a sad day, a frustrating and annoying day. . . a day when I wished I were home and not here. . . for just an hour, perhaps. I could have even found solace in twenty minutes. (They need to invent that transporter device from Star Trek already!)

The air was thick with a mixture of pollution and desert dust and there was a cool wind. Beijing was crying for rain but the tears wouldn’t come from the sky. Wind cut through my clothes as I went to fetch my new bike (second-hand – thanks Sarah! – but new to me) so that I could take it out on our honeymoon ride.
I am very happy to have a bike. It gives me a chance to explore the far reaches of my neighbourhood and have more freedom time-wise than walking gives. Yesterday, I decided to seek out the “Lotus in Moonlight Vegetarian Restaurant” that I was told about by one of my Chinese friends. He even drew me a map and it seemed easy enough to understand. I got on my bike and pedalled in the direction of food. My bike and I were getting along beautifully.

I got to the area where the restaurant was supposed to be and this is when my day started to twist and turn. Sometimes I think that people here get a kick out of misdirecting the foreigner. I’ve been cynical enough to wonder this because it’s not the first time that I’ve been pointed the wrong way by a local and have had to re-trace my steps. My language skills can’t be that bad!

This happened three times. It took me a half an hour of navigating several office building parking lots and busy side streets before I was confident that I had the right building. Why was I confident? Because I had asked three different people. I was tired of trusting solitary answers. I started to approach asking directions with skepticism rather than trust. That was probably the place where my day descended: my attitude.

I locked up my bike and I headed inside. (I have since learned that all the bikes are locked here, but often only with this back lock, which is so subtle that I hadn’t noticed it before. I also use a second front lock, as per Sarah’s suggestion.)

This was both a shopping mall and an office building and it was hard to identify where the shopping began and where the offices ended. Escalators brought me up to the third floor where I was greeted by gaudy wrapped pillars and sparsely designed shopping counters selling a variety of specialty items.

The restaurant was one of the corner suites on this floor. It was beautiful and spacious with wide-open windows that overlooked more courtyards to yet more buildings. The chairs were plush and throne-like and the menu was a hardcover book that looked more like a coffee table book of photography than it did a restaurant menu.

The prices reflected the décor.

Unfortunately, the service did not.

It seems to me that I was disturbing the waitress by being there, even though I was one of only two customers. She spoke so quickly that I couldn’t understand her. When I asked her kindly if she would please repeat what she had said more slowly, she actually sped up her speech instead.

Despite this mean-spirited move, I was still able to gather that no food was available as it was between lunch and dinner (about 3:00pm). I then tried to order just a cup of tea, but then certain beverages were also not available and I couldn’t ascertain why they weren’t and why they were. All in all, everything the waitress said seemed to be unclear and slurred. She rolled her eyes with annoyance when I said I didn’t understand. Even her body language conveyed annoyance. After “dealing” with me, she went across the room and complained to her friends and fellow workers who then all turned and stared at me at the same moment.

What was bothering her so much? Was it my presence during an ‘off’ time’? My lack of proficient Chinese language skills? My affluence in being able to walk into that restaurant at all? (And c’mon, I’m a musician and I had already gathered that I’d only be able to afford some tea and some soup there). Or was it my ragged appearance?

Or maybe she was having a terrible day too and she decided that this “laowai” was an easy target for her bad mood. Really, there’s no telling what the reasons were, there’s just the response to manage; and mine was one of dejection and frustration.

I ordered an overpriced juice – 20 kuai – and I drank it, looked out the window for about five minutes, and then I left. I felt mistreated and ripped off at the same time, not to mention still hungry and therefore more irritable.

I was undoing the locks on my bike outside when a man approached me and asked me for money. He gestured to the row of bikes and I quickly remembered that sometimes you have to pay to park your bike in this city. Seeing as this was more of a business district, it made sense that someone was responsible for the bikes outside. It’s safer that way, especially considering the fact that bike theft is rampant in Beijing.

I asked him how much and he said “wu” or “five” and I was aghast. “Five kuai!” I said in Chinese, “that’s way too expensive!” This was the wrong time to overcharge me for something, considering the trouble I’d just had with bad directions coupled with that terrible restaurant experience! My tone was defensive and sharp and I narrowed my eyes at him expecting a fight in my third language.

He looked at me blankly, paused, and then slowly held up a five mao note.

My stony defenses crumbled like a sand castle. I felt so sheepish. Five mao and Five kuai are very different – it’s the difference between $0.07 and $0.73 Canadian. I apologized immediately and handed him my five mao. He thanked me and I said “bu keqi” which is the respectful way of saying you’re welcome and it means, literally, “don’t be so polite” or “no politeness [needed].” I mean, after all, I wasn’t polite to him and so why should he be polite to me? I hoped he heard both the literal and the conventional meanings.

So, I had yet another big lesson about carrying forward negative energy. I took on the waitress’s negative energy and then passed it on to the parking attendant. I can only hope that it stopped there.

Just before hopping on my bike and heading home to some groceries in my fridge, I heard some music that was being pumped out of a nearby outdoor stage. It was Air Supply: All out of Love. I have a big love-on for Air Supply. They’re cheesy and wonderful – lush harmonies and reverb on the drums that goes for days. I know all the words. Total 80’s nostalgia.

I got on my bike and rode the whole way back to my dorm room (about fifteen minutes) singing this song at full volume, not caring who heard and who didn’t.

And I felt better.

“I’m all out of love / What am I without you? / I can’t be too late to say that I was so wrong.”

I sang it to my bike.

We’re gonna stay married.

Moving Overseas in a Relationship

by Erik Olsen on

In today’s busy world where most couples each have jobs and we are all burdened by tons of responsibility, it can be hard to live a dream and move abroad. I know that I’ve long wanted to get back overseas to live, but professional and personal (family, spouse with a job) reasons have made it hard to pick up and go. But should that stop you (or me for that matter?). Well, that is a matter of personal circumstance, but sometimes the holdup can have to do with more banal issues of inertia like answering the question of how? The idea of moving abroad with your spouse and family might seem daunting. Too much paperwork, too many logistical issues, and so on.

Herewith I offer a solution…or at least a post about a book filled with solutions. Expatriate Press publishes Robin Pascoe’s A Movable Marriage-Relocate Your Relationship without Breaking It. The book provides gobs of valuable advice for couples and families moving overseas.

The topics range from issues like making the move itself to the mental preparation for such a move. There is a chapter on “Dual Career Challenges” and “Isolation and Dependence”, two issues that can happen when you are in a foreign place away from the support of family and friends.

She also offers at the end a list of other books and Web sites that you can check out should a movable marriage be part of your life’s goals. Check out Pascoe’s personal/professional Web site as well, where you can get more information and even ask the author some questions to help you get overseas.

Traveling Solo While You’re Married

by Adrienne Wilson on

Every married couple dreams of the honeymoon after the honeymoon, a life-long of shared adventures and memories made together to be cherished forever and always, but for some couples work schedules, children, and other obstacles stand in the way of this holy travel matrimony. The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette runs an interesting piece on how solo travel can place a slight damper on a marriage. One man who took off to Cuba alone apparently didn’t think his wife would mind and while he was away she was contemplating divorce. Other scenarios showed the partner left at home stuck in the rat-race began to resent their globe-trotting counterpart and insecurities rise.

Seems as though this would be a simple thing to work out in a married relationship and it can be so long as each person communicates properly and plans accordingly. From the article you’ll find the answer to solo travel while you’re married doesn’t necessarily involve staying home to watch Discovery Channel type shows on the tube, but can be as simple as keeping jaunts over and out shorter in time span. At the very least each couple should try to make one big trip together each year aside from their solo endeavors.

Good read if you and your honey are finding yourself at the end of two different roads.