I can’t remember ever having been homesick. I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing. When I was 11 years old I went camping with my scout group for a week, about 500 km from where I lived. That was before cellphones (or before I had a cell at least) so I remember using a payphone to call home. And I called home a lot. Or so my parents say. I can’t really remember if it was homesickness, or if I was simply so used to talk to them so often that I felt the need to call them. One of the activities during the camp was a treasure hunt – we had a map and everything. We got so lost during that. We ended up in an area which was marked with a skull on the map, and it was getting dark, nearing midnight. I was so scared that I started crying. I can remember this. The dark road, forest on both sides, no street lights, our two flash lamps and the scary stories we had told each other earlier that week. I don’t think I’ve been more scared before or after. I can’t remember if I wanted to go home though. I don’t think so. The relief in getting back to the campfire and the tent I still remember, but I can’t remember any actual homesickness. Before or after.
Sometimes people around me talk about homesickness. About possible changes of minds, of thinking about not staying. For me it’s so foreign. I love it here. I wouldn’t go back if you paid me. Maybe it helps that I don’t really have anything waiting? No job or apartment. I haven’t taken a pause from my life, this is my life.
That being said I still miss people sometimes. I can think that mom would like this hotel or my sister would have thought that joke was hilarious. Never enough to wish I was back home with them, more that it would be fun if they came visit. But if they can’t I survive. It’s easy to talk over skype or facetime, to send a short email or read updates on facebook. I’m used to being away from my family and my friends, I know they’ll always be there.
But there is one person I miss so much it actually hurts sometimes. My goddaughter. She turned two last weekend, and I missed the birthday party this weekend. It’s not the same to talk over facetime as it is to see each other in real life. And it’s not as easy as with my family or friends, because even if I don’t talk with my friends or family for a while, they wont forget me and I know we wont stop talking forever. But with a two-year old? I’m afraid she’ll forget me. Or maybe not forget, but stop caring? Like I’m going to be that weird person on the other side of the world who sometimes show up on the computer screen?
Well, I’m going to stop being sentimental now and go back to prepare for a very exiting field trip and meeting tomorrow.