Wednesday, February 8, 2017

9,314

When I woke up in the wee hours of the morning a week ago feeling as sick as a dog, my path to healing was clear. I needed to go back to sleep and catch up on my rest. I needed to eat healthy foods and keep myself hydrated. And, if necessary, I would need to go to a clinic and perhaps get some medication.

A few days later, I felt as good as new and was ready to continue exploring Australia. However, when faced with a wave of homesickness, how does one proceed towards a path of healing?

It all began when, for fun, I decided to use an online map app to track how far away I was from home. For the first two weeks of my trip, nothing felt too strange distance. Beyond the extreme time difference, it felt like I could just hop on a bus and head back home if I really wanted to. But then I saw that number, posted in bold black letters on my computer screen.

9,314 miles.

9,314 miles away from my family. 9,314 miles away from my friends. 9,314 miles away from my dog, and 9,314 miles away from my bed. Homesickness hit me like a freight train, and before I knew it, water swelled up in my eyes for the first time in two weeks.

At first, I felt strange and alone. Why was I feeling so homesick instead of enjoying my once in a lifetime experience to its fullest? I attempted to hide my homesickness from the rest of my cohort, privately clicking through old Facebook photos and letting that number ring in my head every time I was made more aware of the distance.

Cars driving on the left side of the street? 9,314. Limited wifi and air conditioning? 9,314. No friends or family to talk to past 5pm? 9,314.

I continuously looked for a cure. If I could heal my physical sickness in just a few days, helping a bout of homesickness should be just as easy, right?

Sadly, there is no set prescription for homesickness. Everyone copes with adapting to a new culture in their own ways, making it often difficult to find the path that works for you. However, while I am working to find my path, I'm learning that homesickness is a natural process in cultural adaptation that no one should be ashamed of.

Last night was particularly rough, with 9,314 ringing in my head a little more than normal. However, as I walked along the street, I saw a short, stubby figure waddling in the distance. My energy rose, my mood perked, and my feet raced to get just a little closer to confirm my suspicions: it was a dog, a sweet dachshund to be exact, the same color, breed, and demeanor as my dog back home. With permission, I petted and played with the dog for what felt like forever, rubbing his floppy ears and feeling the warmth of what felt like home.


9,314 miles is undoubtedly quite the distance, but it's the little unexpected pieces of home that remind me that perhaps I'm not that far away after all.





No comments:

Post a Comment