A life between sand and ice

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Conny Bartl in Qatar

Photo: Buena Vista Images / Digital Vision / Getty Images

Many people dream of a life far away, but only a few make these dreams come true.

What is it that drives you?

How do you manage the new start in a foreign country?

This is what the new book

"Lunch Break on the Mekong"

by SPIEGEL editors Kristin Haug and Verena Töpper

is about

.

You have collected stories from Germans in 28 countries on six continents.

This text is an excerpt from her book, which will be available in stores this Monday.

»When my friends in Bavaria signed building society contracts, got married and had children, I traveled through Asia almost every long weekend.

I had just started my first job in Shanghai as a sales manager for a five-star hotel and my friends there, like me, wanted to see lots of new places.

I was in my early twenties and as a blonde young woman I was stared at by many Chinese people, some took photos with me, and mothers asked me if I could hold their baby because they thought it was great that a European woman had it in her arms, that was something extraordinary.

That was about 15 years ago.

I loved Shanghai back then, everything was in motion, there was always something going on.

But after three years I began to miss nature and peace. When the brunches and massages in the luxury hotels annoyed me, I knew I had to go elsewhere. Back then I flew to Australia for two weeks, got off the plane in Melbourne and saw bright blue skies for the first time in years. I immediately fell in love with this green city by the sea with the European flair and it was clear to me: I want to live here. So I decided to use my vacation to look for a job in Australia.

So I went to a mall instead of the Great Ocean Road and bought a pants suit.

Then I rattled off one five-star hotel after the next: I went to the hotel reception and asked to speak to the HR or sales and marketing manager.

In fact, in the two weeks I had 30 interviews in Melbourne and Sydney, where I wanted to spend the second part of my vacation anyway.

The people I spoke to appreciated my courage, but the answer was always the same: They couldn't hire me because of the difficult immigration and visa regulations.

So I flew back to Shanghai and consoled myself by having at least tried it.

A week later I received a call from a hotel manager. He told me that he thought my initiative was great and, despite all the hurdles, would like to hire me for a job in Brisbane. The hotel manager had not found a suitable Australian candidate there, so it was easier to apply for a visa for me. I immediately accepted without knowing the city. I had to work in Shanghai for two more months before my notice period was up and then I moved to Australia.

After two years in Brisbane, I moved to Melbourne, where I met my boyfriend at the time.

I felt at home in Australia, the quality of life is high, we had a great circle of friends.

But after six years of relationship, I was in my mid-30s, the big question in life came for me.

Do I want children and a house with a garden - or do I want to move on through the world?

"In the silence of the Antarctic I realized what I really want from life."

Conny Bartl

I grew up in a small village in Upper Bavaria.

Even as a child, my parents took me to places that were not on the conventional travel route of the Germans at the time.

That's why experiences and memories have always been more important to me than stability and possessions.

In the eleventh grade, I went abroad alone for the first time.

After six months in a trailer in the middle of nowhere in Michigan, I looked for a new host family.

Perhaps this experience taught me to persevere in difficult times and to fight for my goals.

I studied in the USA - and did an MBA in Hong Kong.

As a country girl, I was fascinated by the energy of this mega-metropolis.

It was here that I realized that I live a lot more intensively abroad than in Germany.

Penguin colonies, seals and whales instead of midlife crises

I struggled with the children’s question for a long time, then I took a break and flew to Antarctica with my mother for a cruise.

In these ten days at the end of the world, surrounded by breathtaking landscapes, penguin colonies, seals and whales, I only listened to myself and completely ignored the opinions of others.

The freedom, the experiences, but also the challenges that I experience in new countries fulfill me.

A few of my friends thought I was having a midlife crisis, but back then in the quiet of the Antarctic I saw very clearly what I really want in life.

Because I was so fascinated by the Antarctic and so enthusiastic about the passion of the expedition team, I got in touch with the shipping company with whom I had made the trip.

I quit my job in Australia, ended my relationship and got the qualifications for the job: I took a first aid course, a motorboat license and a marine health proficiency test. And I learned where and how many people in the Arctic are allowed to go ashore, how to behave when you encounter an aggressive fur seal (step back slowly, keep eye contact and hit two stones because they don't like the sound) or what to do must if a humpback whale suddenly appears in front of the inflatable boat (keep 100 meters away, switch off the engine, do not talk loudly and wait for the whale to swim past).

After a month-long application process, the shipping company hired me as a passenger service manager in the expedition team.

I am responsible for the quality standards and must ensure that the guests on board are satisfied and are doing well.

I am on the ship in the Antarctic for three to four months, the remaining months I work from my home office in Qatar and mainly look after customers in Europe and Australia.

Unfortunately, the 2020/21 Antarctic season had to be canceled due to Corona, but 90 percent of our bookings have simply been postponed by one year to the next season.

I've been living in Doha for two years now, and I've been commuting back and forth between the sand and ice desert.

I'm married now too.

The summer in Qatar: You run out of steam if you just cross the street

I met my current husband just before I left Australia.

At first we had a long-distance relationship and it turned out that he had a similar concept of life to me - traveling a lot and living in other countries.

My husband is Australian and got a job in Qatar in 2018 and I followed him because I can work from anywhere for my job and travel to Antarctica.

I never really wanted to get married, but in Qatar it is against the law to live together as a couple without being married.

With the marriage certificate, I no longer have to travel in and out of the country with a tourist visa and I don't have to worry that they will put us in jail because we live together illegally. 

Qatar is my home right now, but we want to move on soon - our dream is to live in Japan one day.

We can take it easy here, but the summers are a real challenge.

It can get up to 50 degrees and that with a humidity of 80 percent.

You run out of steam if you just cross the street.

So we try to stay indoors a lot and take a month or two on vacation in Europe.

Qatar is the first country where I found it difficult to get in touch with the locals.

The expats live here as if in a mini-UN.

We know the only Qataris through my husband's work.

I will probably only take a local friend from this country with me.

Since Qatar is an Islamic country, there are a few rules that we have to follow: You are not allowed to drink alcohol in public and after going to a bar you should take a trustworthy driver so as not to be dropped off at the police station. Men and women have to sit in different waiting rooms at the doctor's. Foreign men should specifically avoid getting into the elevator with a Qatari woman. And if you meet work colleagues in a shopping center at the weekend, you shouldn't speak to them, then you disturb family time, violate their privacy.

As a woman alone, however, I can move anywhere.

I've already lost my cell phone or wallet a few times and things always came back to me intact.

I feel a lot more uncomfortable in Frankfurt's Bahnhofsviertel.

As long as we're still here, I enjoy the little moments in Doha.

There are great museums, cultural festivals and great restaurants, and everything is open despite Corona.

We are free to move, but we have to wear a mask.

The winter months in particular are a dream, we go on weekend trips to the desert or to the sea and in the evenings we often sit in the souq, a market district and watch the Qataris carrying their falcons around.

Then the Imam calls for evening prayer and we feel like we are in the Arabian Nights. "