Voyage of Self Discovery Ch. 01

To start with, it was fine. We had our savings and enough to get by on, so I spent my time looking after the love of my live. I sort of knew it though, that we couldn't last forever on what was in the bank. It was time to try and get myself a job once more. The only question was what type of job would be suitable. I didn't have much of an education, so the options were limited. I took what came, another domestic job, but the rates were not so good. It would help but certainly wasn't sustainable for the long term. Never mind, a job was a job and I could always keep looking.

Weeks went by and the only income was the little I was getting from my job. It was hard work for just a pittance of a wage. Things were getting a little tougher by the week and we were now having to scrimp and scrape to get by. I remember clearly how we would turn in for the night and, once Javed was asleep, I would just sit there crying quietly to myself.

"Why us . . . " was the thought which churned over and over in my head.

Weeks had become months and still no joy in finding another job. By now I would have taken anything just to have a little more money coming in. No, not that, I still had some dignity and wasn't going to use my body to pay the bills. That said, I did need something. I even started to pray, offerings at the local temple, in the hope that I would find that lucky break. Whether it was the offerings or not I will never know, but a couple of weeks later I got home to find the newspaper out on the table, open at the "Jobs Offered" pages. I scanned down the page. There was one in particular which jumped out, if only because it had been circled in blue ink. I glanced at Javed, sitting as usual in his wheelchair. He smiled back at me; despite the injuries he still had that same charming smile that I had fallen in love with all those years ago.

"Read it Bablee," he said "maybe, just maybe, it will be an option."

I picked up the paper, sat down on a nearby chair, and started to read. It was not at all what I expected; not the job nor the location. This is what it said.

IMMDEDIATE INTERVIEWS OFFERED

Liberation Cruises are recruiting now for additional staff. Duties focused on entertaining our younger travelers within our kids clubs, keeping them fully occupied in a safe and trusting environment. With the kids away, the parents can play is our mantra.

No qualifications required other than an intermediate level of English. Previous cruise experience not necessary, but would suit women with hands on experience of looking after children, preferably their own. Must be patient, flexible and open minded as the guest comes first at Liberation Cruises.

Uniform and relocation costs covered. Top rates paid for the right candidate.

Don't delay - Apply Now to secure an Interview

I put the paper down and looked up at Javed. He smiled once more.

"What do you think Bablee? You have lots of experience with bringing up our own children."

"But Javed, it is a job on a cruise ship. I would be away for weeks on end, if not months. Who would look after you and the children?"

"Come, my darling Bablee. Come sit next to me."

I knelt down at the side of his armchair and looked up at my darling husband. Despite his ailment I still loved him.

"Look, the children are getting older now and before long will be fending for themselves. I am improving. With the aid of my stick I can get around. The main thing is that we have an income and for that . . . "

There was a pause as he swallowed hard.

". . . I am sorry my dear, it shouldn't be this way, but for that I have no option but to turn to you. We will manage, and maybe one season will bring in enough money for you to give it up at the end and come back here."

"I don't know," came my reply, built half on surprise and half on disappointment. "I've never left you since we were married and what's more I've never even been abroad."

"I know Bablee."

Javed kissed me on the forehead as he replied. He was always so understanding, so comforting, so much the husband I wished for. It was just unfortunate that the accident had taken a part of him away from me.

"Do one thing for me, for us. At least give them a call. There is no harm in talking. You can always say no if it is not for you. What do you say Bablee?"

I thought long and hard. I so wanted to say no. There was no way in the world that I wanted to up and leave, to be on my own once more. But times were hard and we needed the money. I looked back at Javed and his eyes said it all. Deep within I could see that he just wanted the best for all of us, nothing more. I so wanted to say no, but what came out of my mouth was something different.

"OK my love. Let me phone them in the morning."

What happened next was a bit of a whirlwind which even surprised myself. By the end of the week I had already been invited to an interview. I should have been happy I suppose but something deep inside still seemed wrong. It would have been so much simpler if they had just turned me down. Anyway, I had said I would do this and I wasn't going to back out now. I had a few days to get my thoughts together before the interview.

The interview itself was not at all what I expected. I had smartened myself up as best I could, trying to look as professional as possible. There was a casual glance in the mirror on the way out of the door just to make sure I looked reasonable. I barely recognised the woman who looked back at me. Yes she looked like me, physically I meant, but smartly dressed and with a little tender loving care to her appearance she looked quite beautiful. I felt proud inside knowing that, even in my forties, I could turn it on when I wanted. Head held high I shouted goodbye and left. I returned mid way through the afternoon and Javed was there waiting for me.

"So Bablee, how did it go?"

"I guess it was okay," was my nonchalant reply.

"Okay? What does okay mean?"

"Well, it was easier than I thought it would be. They told me about the job and how they rotated the roles with ten weeks on followed by three weeks off."

"On and off? Not sure I follow you."

"You know Javed. Ten weeks on the boat and then three weeks off. They continue throughout the year so I would be away for all but twelve weeks each year."

"But was it worthwhile?"

"Do you mean would it pay well? Yes, the rates were more than generous for a job looking after children on a boat, almost too well, but they assured me there was no catch. Happiness amongst the crew was very important to them as a happy crew made for happy passengers."

"OK, but I was actually wanting to know if the interview had been worthwhile."

"Don't know, Javed. It was really difficult to read what they thought of me. They didn't seem so interested in what I had done before or what my aspirations might be. What they wanted to know about was my personal life. There were lots of questions about family life, raising children and even about how open minded I was. It was a little unnerving, but I guess they just needed to be sure that I would fit in with the type of people I would be looking after. Anyway, they said they had many applicants and would be getting back to those who had been successful within the next week or two."

And that was that. I just had to wait and see. Every day I would get more and more nervous wondering if that would be the time I heard back or not. I was practically sitting on the telephone in case it rang and, as for the postman, I was like the little cartoon dog which hid in the bushes waiting to bite his leg off every time he brought a letter. The sooner I heard the better. The only problem is that half of me wanted to hear in the positive and the other half wanted to simply carry on as I was. Finally the day came, a white envelope delivered by the postman.

I quickly took it to one side, out of the view of Javed, and secretly opened it. I sat down and read the contents, over and over to myself. A tear formed in one eye, followed by one in the other. It was an answer, an answer I should have been happy with as it would solve the short term financial problems. Yet here I was with totally the opposite feelings. One problem solved but a host of other challenges only just beginning. I dried away the tears and put the letter back in the envelope. Eventually I would have to pick up the courage to tell Javed but this particular moment just didn't feel like the right time. It was later that evening, the two of us settling down for the night that I did break the news to my husband.

"You know that interview I went for Javed?" I started, knowing forthright that he was aware. "Well, I got a letter back this morning."

"And was it what you wanted?" came his reply.

"I don't know," was all I could think to say, that tear welling up inside again.

"What do you mean you don't know? Were you offered the job or not?"

"That's why I don't know. Yes, I was offered the job but no, I don't know if it is the right thing to do."

There was a pause, a nervous pause. Inside my heart was pumping away as I waited for his response. If Javed looked me in the eyes, then he would see the wateriness forming at the surface where I was on the verge of crying. I looked down at his expressionless face, looking for the slightest sign of emotion. Slowly, ever so slowly, the corners of his mouth lifted and he began to smile.

"Oh Bablee, I'm so happy for you. I knew you'd knock them for dead and get the job. My beautiful wife has the opportunity of a lifetime."

I started to cry, silently to myself, only visible by the tears rolling down my cheeks. Why did Javed have to be so positive about it? Whatever it was he always wanted the best for me. That is why I loved him so much.

"But Javed," I replied, choking on my emotions. "I can't take it. I can't leave you and the children here to fend for yourselves."

"Nonsense my darling Bablee. You will take the job and I know you will be happy with it."

"But I've never even been abroad. In all my forty-odd years I've never left this country of mine."

"An adventure, simply an adventure. Think of all the opportunities it will give you. We will manage and it's not like you are going to be away forever. Who knows, I am improving by the day and in a year or so I may even be able to work myself. Be strong, be brave and make the most of your great opportunity."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

There was the screech of rubber on tarmac as the plane touched down. It was only a couple of weeks after I had received the offer letter, but things had moved on very quickly. It had been a long journey, two flights and almost twenty four hours, to reach my destination. I was literally in transit; from airport to cruise liner via the company training centre, without even putting my feet down in my new country.

Dressed in my traditional dress and hijab, I waited for my case to arrive off the carousel. I had been told to travel light as uniform would be provided along with full washing facilities, but even so I had quite a large case to collect. It seemed to be taking forever and I couldn't help but watch as one by one my fellow passengers retrieved their own luggage and started to wander off. It would just be my luck that I had arrived in a foreign country, for the first time in my life, but my case had stayed at home. I was already becoming rather nervous at the prospect of my luggage never arriving when finally a tatty blue case trundled around the conveyer belt. What a relief as I picked it up and went along my way!

Outside, as promised, I was met by a representative from Liberation Cruises and was whisked away in a plush limousine. It certainly wasn't the type of car we got back home. After an hour or so, and with the sea in full view, we pulled into a large complex. A sign at the entrance proudly announced this to be the training centre for Liberation Cruises. I checked myself in and was shown up to a relatively small room on the second floor.

Standing on the tiny balcony I looked out over the sea. It suddenly hit me that I was all alone, the vastness of the sea between me and my darling husband. I knew it had only been a couple of days, but now it seemed like I was truly at the other end of the world. It would be another two and a bit months before we were reunited, and I suspected it would be the longest two and a bit months of my life. Training would start tomorrow and within a fortnight I would be off on my own on the high seas. Once out at sea there would be no way back, no changing my mind if things didn't work out. Just like the day when the offer letter arrived, I found myself fighting back the silent tears as I reflected on my new life and the changes it brought. Later that night I was still crying when I finally fell asleep.

The next morning was the start of my training. I dressed conservatively as usual in yet another long dress and hijab. Taking my place on the back row of the training room, I looked around. There were eight of us, all women but of varying ages and cultures. I stood out like a sore thumb in my conservative dress, but I wasn't concerned at all. I was comfortable and, if I was comfortable, then I was confident in myself. The morning session was basically an introduction to the company and what they stood for. You know the sort of corporate messaging which would be standard for any new company:

We are here to serve the customer . . .

The customer always knows best . . .

Whatever the customer wants, we will strive to accommodate . . .

Liberation by name, liberation by nature. Our cruises are here with one aim in mind, to provide an open experience where our customers are free to do whatever they like, whenever they like . . .

The last point did make me wonder. Whatever they liked, whenever they liked? I assumed that this was a lost in translation moment and finally put it to the back of my mind.

Just before lunchtime we were sent off, one at a time, for a sizing for the uniform they would provide. Just my luck that I was first to be called. I followed the directions given, out of the training room and down the corridor then finally disappearing into a side room. All I could think about was just what this uniform would look like. I did so hope it wasn't too modern, too young looking, too revealing. Yes, that was it, would the outfit be conservative enough to match expectations. I did so hope that I would feel comfortable in my uniform with not too much on display. After all, being covered in public was almost a way of life.

I was greeted by an older woman. She was efficient but had lost a little in the charm department. It was obvious you were to be in and out again as soon as possible.

"Size my dear," she almost barked as I entered.

"Size for what?"

"Your clothes. I need to know your size. Bust, waist etc."

"Er, I guess a twelve," came a considered reply.

I watched as the woman ran up and down the shelves, grabbing a bag from here and a bag from there. Eventually four bags were placed on the counter in front of me.

"OK, so you have two twelves and two fourteens. Sometimes our sizes come up a little on the smaller size. You can go over there and try them on."

She had pointed at a screened off area in one corner of the room which I guessed was used as a changing area. I followed her finger, bags in hand and pulled the screen around me. Removing my dress, now clothed in just a fairly normal pair of white cotton panties and bra, I turned my attention to the bags, sorting them out by size. I started with the twelve, undoing the bags and pulling out a . . .

"Shit," I thought to myself. "There is no way I can wear these. They are so revealing, practically indecent."

I took a look at the larger size and held them up together. They were larger but not necessarily any longer. So now I had a dilemma. I had to wear the company uniform, but it was so different to my normal dress. I really wasn't sure if I was going to fall at the first hurdle or not. Not knowing what to do, I literally froze on the spot, simply staring at the garments in front of me. It was conversation from outside which broke me out of my freeze. I could hear that the next inductee had arrived and was being asked her size. There was a shout to see if I was nearly done and there and then I knew I had to just get on with it. I tried on the smaller size, top first and then skirt. It did fit but when I turned to look in the mirror I was shocked with what I saw. The woman looking back at me was still the old Bablee but this time she was dressed in a rather sassy outfit; a clingy white, short sleeved stretch top with a logo of an idealised cruise ship over one breast and an above the knee short black skirt.

I was scared. Not scared of the clothes themselves, but definitely scared to show myself in such attire. This was so much the antithesis of what I would normally wear. I had gone from being covered to being almost naked, or so it seemed to me. There was the shout once more and I knew I had to move on. I put my dress in the empty bag which had held the skirt, picked everything else up, and nervously walked out into the open. I held my breath, feeling the burn of two pairs of eyes on my skin.

"Wow, nice uniform, it really suits you Bablee," came an unexpected response from the other inductee.

Her name was Melodee and she was a good ten years younger than me. From her already short skirt I knew she would have no problem with the uniform, but for me it was so out of character. I really did feel uncomfortable in front of these two women, but I knew I just had to get on with it. I dropped off the spare clothes, the larger size, and left back to the training room knowing that several more sets would be waiting for me by the end of the day.

As I neared the door back into the training room I was practically shaking. The thought of walking out in front of a group of strangers with my legs and arms on display was totally out of any comfort zone. In fact I wouldn't be too far off the mark to say that I was ashamed. It wasn't my body that I was ashamed with. Even at a sprightly forty-something, I knew I had a half decent figure. After all, running around after a family was as much of a workout as going to the gym. So what exactly was it that I was ashamed of? I guess it goes back to expectations and the big one that you do not expose yourself in public. Here I was in what seemed to be a state of half undress about to walk into a room full of strangers.

Hand shaking, I grabbed the handle and turned it. Suddenly I was looking at the floor, just in front of my feet, as I sneaked back inside. At the back of my mind I assumed that if I couldn't see them then they couldn't see me. How wrong I was as a voice called out from the front of the room.

"Bablee," I heard him say "I see you are sporting our new uniform. Why don't you come up here and give us all a quick twirl. And, if you don't mind me saying, you look great in it."

I had no option but to face my fears. Expecting nothing more than a room full of shock or maybe even laughter, I walked slowly up to the front. What happened though was a real surprise, at least to me. There was no laughter, no shock at all, just a room full of people admiring the uniform. Or was it a room full of people admiring me in the uniform. It was only later that I realised the latter was true.

"So ladies," he continued "here is the beautiful Bablee sporting our daytime working uniform. Everything is designed for practicality, the style allows freedom of movement and the fabric itself is designed to be easy maintenance. We have several colours depending on the role you are given. This one is for those working in our kids clubs. Give us a twirl Bablee."