My new identity

I know, these are the best years of my life, rearing children but time out for mum is vital. So imagine what it would be like to have a driver? I mean, I usually pack all three kids into the car, drive while instructing them to stop fighting, explaining where we are going, negotiating treats and surprises and then having to shuffle them through the car park like a border collie herding sheep. With a driver, I have someone who helps shuffle them through the car park, carry my bags, read the road signs, concentrate on the road rules so I can concentrate on the demands to stop fighting, answering endless questions and negotiating the allocation of treats and surprises. Sounds nice but not entirely considered a luxury.

So …… what if I had someone at home who could look after the children at any time so I could pop out and do my own shopping without any of the above concerns? Brilliant, and trust me, it is. So I am sitting in the back of a car, by myself right, no kid noise, fights, cries, tantrums, wish lists, cuddles (miss those) or runny noses. Nope, just me, my thoughts and pen and paper for that ever elusive shopping list.

So I’m feeling pretty special right? Just popping out without having to organise a babysitter before hand, just hanging in the car with my very own driver, relishing the city of Lima, the colours, the contrasts, the interest, the unknown and endless possibilities. I mean, I am living in South America!!  All of the sudden, with this new realisation remembered, I begin to feel pretty tough, like I have been let out on good behaviour. Yeah, you heard me, I’m bad ass man. I’m just cruising around Lima South America. ‘Hey! You lookin at me??? Well you should be’. You get the picture right. Then I decide to turn to my driver to soak in the whole atmosphere, after all, he’s my compadre, my partner in crime, we’ve got this you know!


Feeling pretty special, I expect to view my driver/security guard with one hand on the wheel, the other on the windowsill with a slight slouch to the left and a possible subtle movement to the beat on the radio. Is that what I see as part of my new identity in South America? No, instead I see my driver bopping side to side like a metronome with the same amount of badass grace as a nun. I’m thinking it’s just a cover …. right?


4 thoughts on “My new identity

    1. Yeah, if it weren’t for the different language, annoyingly late mornings for business, roundabout logic, crazy drivers and sticking out like a sore thumb I don’t think there would be much culture shock at all.

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