How does it feel to be home?
That was the question most people asked me when I returned to Miami and New York to see family and friends. 'How will it feel to be back?' was a question I pondered when the plane departed Rome to Milan. In Milan, I waited for 30 minutes queuing Italian style at customs and that question played in mind like a continuous recording. In America, people wait on line in single file allowing sufficient personal space whereas Italy that concept simply does not exist. As an expatriate you endeavor to avoid comparsions of the land you live in and the one of origin. This can be difficult because all of us carry 'cultural baggage' and sometimes that baggage makes us view other cultures negatively. So, back to the question, 'How did it feel to be back home?' I must admit I looked forward to seeing my friends and family but when I landed at Miami International Airport after twelve hours of flight, honestly I wanted to get back on the plane and return to Europe immediately. It is not because I did not want to see my family or see beautiful South Beach, no, the reason was I did not want to be in America! Hey! where was the euphoria?!? I should be jumping up and down with joy! Ok, it was GOOD to hear English again but don't get wrong, Miami is more Latin American than North American and interestingly, this made it more tolerable! Maybe, having a cranium crushing, jackhammer pounding, mind numbing headache from dehydration and lack of sleep did not help my mood either. Finally, I got to see my family after first having a few helpings of MSG-filled, delicious Chinese food with my mother and brother's girlfriend. Shortly after, I took 2 Tylenol PM tablets and was off to never-never land!
I stayed in Miami for a few days before heading north to New York City. It was extremely exhausting to fall back into the fast paced life of my city, 'the Big Apple'. It was great to see my friends again, but I longed to go 'home'. I could feel myself becoming lethargic due to slight depression that gradually enveloped me. Mistakenly I thought it was a bad case of jet lag. Why was I so miserable? Why wouldn't I want to be back in New York with my friends that understand me and know me? The same ones that laugh at my jokes, not only remember the stories I tell but are a part of them, and share many of the same likes and dislikes as me. I was puzzled at my desire to get away at the same I was growing weary of the thought of spending another day in the City. I felt disoriented and helpless in my City! It wasn't because I was gone long but maybe it had someting to do with my feeling of being out of sync with everyone and everything else around me. The longing to leave was so strong that it was becoming a burden by my second to last day. The ironic part of this is, I felt it was one of the best trips I ever taken because it I learned so much about people I considered my friends and also I learned about myself.
I think leaving Miami was the toughest part of the trip. It was wonderful to see my brothers again, but was most difficult to say good-bye to my parents. I was not prepared to be affected so profoundly by the seperation.
How does it feel to be back in Rome? It feels GREAT to be back in Europe and yes, I exhaled
I'll keep you posted : ))
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