Expat Life: Where is Home?


img_8326
My boys enjoying Florida Life.

 

Right now I am sitting at the kitchen bar, wrapped up in this purple fleece queen-sized blanket I found at Target, for only $11.

I can feel my dependency on this blanket began to develop.

I once had a blanket once when I was a little kid. I took that thing all the way to college. I still have a piece of it somewhere in a box. My kids also have two blankets that we don’t go anywhere without. I guess comfort of a blanket runs in the family.

So why am I all the sudden unable to live without this pastel Easter colored cheap blanket? Simple. Comfort.

For the past month or so, I’ve been living out of a suitcase. (Of course I’m not complaining, just staying at a gorgeous little beach home on Flagler with my awesome Mom-in-law.) Being away from home sometimes is hard. So far I’ve been to Rock Hill, Charleston, Florida, and I’m going back to Charleston, before I have to go BACK to Florida to leave for Kuwait.  I miss my own bed, oh lord my bed is a sanctuary! I miss my husband almost as much as my bed. Oh, and I miss my hairdryer, but I miss my hubby more. 😉

As I sit here and drink my wonderful glass of wine (14 days and counting till I have to give up my mommy juice) I start to think about the idea of home. The idea of comfort.

I have such a wonderful, sometimes boring, sometimes exciting kind of life. I swear its like peeking over the side of a cliff when discussing our future. Its exciting and scary. As many of you know, our adventure abroad is starting to come to an end. No, I don’t know when. Yes, I will still blog even if we live in the boring ole States.

If someone asked you where home is, what would you say? Is home where you put your bed? Is home where you are from? Or is home just where you are at the moment?

This question constantly confuses me. For 3 years Kuwait has technically been my HOME. My stuff is there, my friends are there, oh and my hairdryer.  (Kidding)

Being an expat, as I have said before has its ups and downs. You seldom forget how in ways you lead two lives. Your international country and your home country. My friends in America always say, “When are you going to move home?” I wonder to myself, don’t they know I live here in Kuwait? I mean this is my home, isn’t it? I have to say, Kuwait has really been kind to us, and I have felt home even if I knew it was temporary. I am so sad to know that soon I wont ever see Kuwait again, a fact that really stops my heart. It’s not like I can just fly to Kuwait and see my friends. Its more than a 24-hour flight. I will be leaving soon, not coming back. It’s a dull ache that is sometimes pacified by the unexpected and unknown excitement that could be waiting somewhere else. In the last 5 years, we have moved from the U.S to Hungary, the U.S again, and then Kuwait for 3 of those 5 years. I’ve always like the idea of being an expat, and I like the travel that goes along with it. I mean who can say that they have a 2 and 4 year old that are good on a 2 day airplane trip? Or been to Indonesia and Croatia and so many other countries? This girl. We’ve been jet setting since Cruze was smaller than a mango in my tummy.

It’s almost like I can hear the screeching to a halt sound in the distance. Is life about to be boring? Or harder? Or more fun? More family filled? Am I going to miss the birth of baby Al Qahtani? Am I going to be able to finally attend a best friend’s wedding? There are so many unanswered questions. Lately we’ve been filled with anxiety and apprehensiveness in everything we do. We sit around for hours planning for the best, the worst, the ugly, and hoping it all works out. They call it “repatriating” back home. I call it a water-boarding. It tends to be more rough than the actual experience of moving to a foreign country. The other day I sat at a red light. Hank’s mom was like, “uh you can turn right on red”. I had forgotten that was okay. In Kuwait that is like a 100kd fine. Yesterday I was yelling “Yalla, Yalla” to my kids at Publix. They thought I was weird probably.

screen-shot-2017-02-22-at-9-32-41-pm
pretty much…                                      (Yalla in Arabic: Let’s go. Hurry. Come on.)

You realize how you’ve changed living overseas. You realize how you can relish in uncomfortableness of new things. You understand the value of travel and of friends who become your family overseas. You see that knowing one langauge makes you look uneducated. (seriously, America.)  You understand how big the world is and how much you’ve learned just from stepping outside your box. You’ve also learned to never go in the Monkey forest without fruit ( no corn!!)  in fear of being attacked. (But that’s beside the point.)

Mainly you realize, you may never know where home is. You may have more than one.  You may always value a piece of comfort, like a blanket. You may always feel out-of-place here or there. But how lucky we are to have experience such a monumental thing? How amazing was,or is this opportunity?

Life is a series of events, and learning experiences that enrich our lives. Even though I don’t know what is to come, I’ll take comfort in the unexpected. Just like being an expat has taught me.  ButI can promise one thing,  I’ll be taking this new Target blanket with me. Wherever that might be. Yalla!

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s