Many expats find a side of themselves that would have never surfaced had they not relocated across the planet to their new home away from home. Have you ever wanted to try your hand at writing non-fiction – with a twist? Inspired by a recent day-in-the-life experience, expat and corporate crusader Leonora Roccisano shares her story, albeit with wonderment through the eyes of a first-timer.
It wasn't such a big deal back home. I didn't consider myself a late bloomer, naive, an outcast. But in Singapore, it was different. Those much younger than I were doing it, those older had been doing it for years. I found myself avoiding the conversation, not always deftly changing the subject. Then it happened one day, one normal day.
Someone saw something in me, a spark, a desire. The plans were made, every details painstakingly considered – even my pick up from home. That night I showered, dressed, did my make up and hair. My style was (deliberately) effortlessly chic – I didn’t want it to look like it was my first time, after all. But I wasn't nervous, I didn't even need a glass of anything, it all just felt right. That was until the phone rang.
The car had arrived! What was going on? What had I missed? What did I foolishly not understand? After a tricky conversation trying to hide my panic and confusion I discovered that this was normal and I could carry on preparing myself at my leisure. How civilised I thought, and comforting that all was already in order. On the way there I called my dad, just so someone knew my movements in the unlikely event of an emergency. That done, all which remained were some simple inspections of my person and personal effects. And so the experience began.
I was warmly received with a champagne and necessary amenities for the evening. I tried to sit back and relax as I waited, but I was too goofily excited, taking pictures and messaging friends with whom I had entrusted the secret. Their happy and encouraging responses were welcome. Some housekeeping and instructions and we were underway. Everyone was so polite and interested in my comfort. I felt no pressure to interact with others or to partake in the entertainment on offer, only as I wished and I was given as much privacy as I needed.
I didn’t get as much sleep as I expected and I probably drank too much wine (beginners’ frenzy), but as the evening reached its peak, and then descended, I heard the words ‘welcome to Dubai … we hope you enjoyed your business class experience with us …’ I knew I’d never be the same. I picked up my heels, grabbed my laptop bag and files and left the aircraft with a smug smile on my face and a spring in my step. A week later, back to normal life in Singapore, I didn’t feel such an urge to run in the other direction when I next overheard a 20 something gush about her first time.
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