More than six weeks have passed since our last update. It is not only a sign for entering a normal life, but also a sign of how quickly you seem to have settled in a new place. The question of “What defines home?” has been with me the last few months, and I am sure I got a little bit closer answering that one question since I arrived.
After the first weeks, you try to get to know everything as intensely as possible. Trip to go and see that, then next day this, and some when you kind of think you saw it all. You set up your world the way you like it and you chose the routines you like. Buying groceries there, because you like the colors in that one store and it has a bus stop in front, getting your hair cut at that one place you don’t understand anyone but still like going because it only costs 10 bucks, choosing stairs over escalators because there is always one person not in the mood accepting the unwritten law of walking on the escalators if you are on the right side. The list of example goes on, far beyond escalators and hair. You try and try and try, but only until you found an acceptable solution. Then you go with it, but why?
Similar with friends. Same way back in the day in kindergarten: if that one kid kicked you on your first day, forget you will ever go and try to play with him. Then imagine you have a best friend and you would like to invite two other best-friends over to play. Who should it be?
Some people call it growing up, others call it setting up your new life. Every moment your fragile routine gets a hit because the hairdresser closed due to illegal tax frauds, your grocery store changed the colors on the wall or someone you like is moving away. At each and every one of these moments you would like to shout “NOOOOOO!” and sink down on your knees in the middle of the streets, scaring the birds away in the nearest tree. You are starting to miss the things which are not on Facebook, not on your hard disc, email or photo album: Stepping into the kitchen of your parents house, with your Mum working hard to get a perfect meal ready and your Dad and brothers who can’t wait to eat that perfect meal as much as you; playing a meaningless game on Xbox with a friend which is not about winning, but rather about spending time together; walking into the changing room of your hockey team before an important game and being so pumped that nothing else matters; and most importantly, walking into the Stadtkafi in Sursee on a Friday evening, where best friends are waiting to enjoy life and help to write another chapter of our old town. That’s what I came up with as a definition of “home” until now and I miss it. I miss it a lot. “A rolling stone gathers no moss” is my favorite metaphor helping me to understand that the pain to keep the stone rolling is not for nothing. Only a rolling stone will make it home some when.
Life keeps on going on anyway, so here are a few moments of our last weeks.