Awkward relations: All In the family

Awkward relations betweens spouses and in-laws, it is the grist of many weary witticisms and sorry subplots. Conversations between my wife’s side of the family and myself are hindered by a language barrier which I have yet to fully overcome, but sometimes it’s not perfectly clear whether that’s a problem or an advantage. What really keeps me wondering, when we see these siblings, parents, step parents and grand parents, whom we haven’t seen in over five years, is how could my wife possibly be related to these people?

She and I met in a backpacker hostel while traveling, and spent much of the following three years traveling together in Central America and Scandinavia and living in Germany. As an international couple, one of us is always and inevitably going to be on foreign soil, no matter where we go. Despite the hassles and inconveniences that do arise, we both thrive off the challenges that come with international travel and residency. It’s a central theme that brought us together and which we will always share.

Most of her family on the other hand, at least from what I can gather, could not be less interested in travel. In the eleven years we lived in California, through a wedding and the birth of two children, we were visited twice by her father and twice by an aunt. A road trip to France or Italy is something they might consider, but for most of them, a trip to sunny California would never even enter their mind.

Generally speaking, Germans probably travel more than any other nationality on earth. Go to the farthest corner of any U.S. national park, and you’re bound to find a pair of Germans already encamped. Venture to the most exotic destination in south east Asia or some deserted island, and odds are a group of Germans have already hiked over the back country to the lost temple and back. Walk through a German city and you’ll immediately see windows and billboards plastered with ads promoting package tours to Malta, Cairo, the Maldives or the Seychelles. Most Germans enjoy about five weeks a year of paid vacation time, and long-distance travel seems to be in their blood.

Yet when we tell the family of our plans to spend a year on the road with our children, the reactions range from blank stares and silent nods to rolling eyes and shaking heads. Once I’m out of earshot, the castigation really grows harsh. Don’t get me wrong, they are wonderful people and I love them all, but it’s almost inconceivable to them that we should subject our children to such a form of abuse. They belong in a classroom and we belong in a cubicle. Or so they would have us believe.

Based on my inability to speak with any eloquence, or often even any clarity, it’s easy to imagine that the in-laws might just suppose I’m simply slow witted and dim. But before she met me, my wife’s plan was to finish school and head to South America, where she had a friend in Colombia. So whatever they think, at least the in-laws can’t blame me for dragging their only daughter/grand-daughter/step-daughter, and our children, down this path of perdition. Although I’d still like to take some credit for it.