Wednesday, September 8, 2010

home. . .

I've been thinking lately about going home. Home being where my parents live, where I grew up, where I'm going to spend Christmas.

But, I wonder about the whole concept of home and what that means now. Because, of course, part of going back to where you grew up is going "home". But, I live here now. Maybe not permanently, but I have bought shoe polish and floor wax and a triple pack of toothpaste here, not really things you buy if you're somewhere short-term. I have a cell phone with a local number, I have Colombian insurance, when strangers on the street ask me for directions, I can at least point them in the right direction. I teach at a school here.

I say I'm going "home" when I'm out, and then I mean where I live now, but somehow, despite the fact that I live here, it doesn't really feel like home. Maybe due to how impermanent I know it is- it's pretty likely that within the next month I'll be moving again. Maybe due to the fact that home largely has to do with who lives there, and much as I appreciate the people I live with and work with, they still aren't family.

I wonder if Colombia will ever feel like home.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

As the embroidered sign Martina gave us in Ireland says:
"Home is where the Heart is"

Aunt Cherie

Jan and Randy said...

Home is where your heart is. I'm way older and still do the same thing. Where I live with my kids and husband, is HOME. When I head to TN for holidays, that's 'home' too. I think you carry 'home' in your heart where ever you go.

Glad all is going well.

Jan