"Home"
Hey my dudes.
This is a post I've been wanting to write for a while, but one that I didn't know I could do. It's a post about coming home. It's a part of the "oh-wow-you're-so-brave", and "I-wish-I-could-travel-like-you" life that is much less glamorous than the photos taken atop foreign mountains with beers and new friends. It's tougher than trying to navigate transportation in a different language. It's the part about coming home that is maybe even a little scarier than leaving in the first place.
When you go on vacation and leave town for a week or two, as soon as you get home you can't wait to return to your "normal life": working, going back to your Thursday night softball league, settling back into the comfort of your house, and seeing the people you love. When you're gone for a short time, you come home feeling rejuvenated and excited about your travels. You cant wait to tell your friends and family all the details of things you've just experienced. It's easy to smile and answer the classic "how was it?" question from co-workers by saying "it was great but I'm some glad to be home" without gouging your eyes out. You return to find that your life is just the same as you left it and you're glad to jump right back in.
When you live your life (mostly) abroad, this isn't the case.
I'm not saying I'm not thrilled to see, hug, and spend time with loved ones. That's obviously the best part about being at home. There's no comfort greater than walking into my house at 1 Pine Street and noticing that yes, even after 15 years, the house still smells the same and there's an ample selection of delicious breakfast cereal in the cupboard. These things will never change, and even if they did it wouldn't be the end of the world. My dad still wears stylish button-up plaid shirts with the sleeves rolled, and mom still prefers to use talk-to-text even though it annoys everyone within a 20-foot radius. The small stuff never changes.
In the past 6 years, I have been gone for months at a time, multiple times. I went on university exchange for 3 months in the US in 2012. I traveled for 3 months in Europe in 2015, 2&1/2 months in Southeast Asia in 2016, and moved to Korea for 13 months starting in early 2017. I most recently spent 2 months backpacking in Mexico. I am extremely fortunate. I work hard, save hard, and spend with a budget. I've met and made countless friends (some of which I consider to be my soulmates), seen dozens of jaw-dropping sunrises and sunsets (which always make me feel grateful), and rewarded myself with a pint plenty of times after a day of "eventful" travel or work. I am proud to say that I have collected stamps of 16 different countries in my passport all on my own. These are all of the amazing things you expect to hear from the girl who is always told "oh-wow-you're-so-brave", and "I-wish-I-could-travel-like-you".
What I don't talk about often, and certainly very rarely with full emotion, are the hard parts about long-term travel.
When I was travelling Vietnam in December of 2016 I was faced with the unexpected loss of one of my most precious family members on the other side of the world. I was alone among backpackers who surely didn't want to be burdened by the girl looking sad in the common room. I have only been away from home for one such heart-break, but the potential is always something that is on my mind when I book travel- especially now that I am signing contracts for living abroad for 12 months at a time. Just because I am not present when someone falls ill, or passes away, doesn't mean that I don't feel the same remorse as those who are. I just have to handle myself, and my emotions differently and you guessed it, mostly on my own.
As most of you know I am the youngest of 3 siblings and though I am not currently in the process of expanding my family, my brother and sister are both married and having kids with their respective spouses. I'm already an aunt to a smart, beautiful, and silly (almost) two year old. I have only been around her for about 3 months of her life. When I came home from Korea after being away for so long, she was encouraged by others to "give aunt Sash a hug" which warranted a "noooouuuhh" in response. She didn't know who I was, and frankly I think I scared her with my over-sized glasses and baseball cap. I know what you're thinking- it's no big deal she's a little babe she doesn't remember most people. It certainly didn't feel that way when she smiled from ear to ear upon seeing her other aunt, who also lives away, a few weeks later. I'm not butt-hurt that I'm not her favorite aunt, but I know that there are many things in her life I won't be there for because I've selfishly chosen to live my life abroad. Even more than that, during my next 12-month contract in Korea: my sister will be giving birth to a baby girl in September, and my brother and his wife will be welcoming a new addition in December. I know people who take days and sometimes weeks off of work when someone close to them has a new baby. I won't even be able to give my favorite humans a hug when they're experiencing the most wonderful moments of their lives. I won't meet the new members of the clan until September of 2019. After they'll have already accomplished all the wonders of baby life, when they'll be encouraged to "give aunt Sash a hug" and I'll be once again faced with baby eyes filled with confusion and discomfort.
When I moved to the US in 2012 it was my first time leaving home and after an extremely fun-filled summer I had to part ways with my summer fling. I'm not writing about the boy who broke my 20-year old heart, though believe me at the time it was devastating. I'm writing about all of the relationships I've had to, how do I put this, "do without" over the past 6 years because I have become known for my inability to stay in one place. My grandmother has finally, at the age of 94, given up on asking me "when I'm going to get a boyfriend". I've had some really lovely romances over the past few years, of course, but I know deep down that they've been missing something because they weren't going to result in any kind of commitment as is a possibility in a regular relationship.
I haven't had a boyfriend since 2012. I played a very exciting game of tag with a boy across several countries in Europe while we were both travelling separately. I relied on, laughed with, and found comfort in a boy I traveled with through Thailand. I had a totally normal and somewhat settled life with a boy in Korea who truly believed that we could be together forever despite the fact that I was from the other side of the world. The most fresh of all though was when I became "the girl who got him to come back to Mexico". This isn't a cry for a boyfriend, and I hope you don't take my previous romances as a false sign that I am wild. I am quite fine with being an independent woman for the majority of my life but there are times when the comfort of a partner are truly missed. I didn't realize until recently that having a life partner is more than just a title, it's truly someone with which you can share your life- be it good, bad, or ugly. Again, this is something I give up because I have an unconventional lifestyle. I'm soon to be 26 and the pressure from family, society, and my body to settle down for a while is real.
Last but not least on the list of things that make long term travel harder than I ever expected: coming to the realization that nobody gives a shit. If you're reading this and you do care, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to offend you. Let me explain. Above I talked about how people react to returning from a vacation (friends, coworkers, Thursday night softball league... blah blah blah.) When you return home from long term travel you have experienced so many things, so many things, that you want to talk about with everyone and their grandmother. Truth is, most people don't want to hear anything more than the 2 minute spark-notes version, or look at more than a handful of pictures despite your camera roll boasting 1000+ photos of stunning landscapes and all of your new friends. As much as your life has changed after all of the late-nights, cross-country buses, hostels, and mouth-watering new foods, their lives have also been keeping on and changing in their own exciting right. I have felt more and more like the odd-man-out among my peers because honestly we don't have that much in common anymore. It's hard for me to explain with due excitement the beautiful beaches in Mexico, the wild and amazing flavors of Thai food, or that time we laughed so hard we nearly pissed our pants in Vietnam. I can't convince anyone to fall for the Korean boy band like I have. I can't properly share the feelings from the moments when I was so full of joy that I cried. Maybe I was wrong in saying nobody gives a shit, my apologies. They just give a shit about things they've experienced, too.
I've been in a bit of a funk recently because I'm having an "in-between" summer, and now you know why. So often I get asked the question "are you happy to be home?" and I'm not really that good at giving a convincing answer. I have a wonderful life as a girl of the world, but I'm finding myself having a hard time figuring out just where I should stand among everyone "at home".