This week was the traditional āpanic weekā two weeks before all my essays are due and I have exams and stuff. Naturally, I didnāt do anything and still procrastinated and, as to not have a bad conscience, I also didnāt go out and did anything fun. Consequently, I donāt have any fun adventures to share today, so Iām going to do a little more personal story. But there is going to be more adventures next week, I promise.
Home
āWhat is home to you?ā Such a simple question. A few weeks ago during my Homeless Field Trip one of the other students asked me this question. The question was whether or not I feel at home here in Japan, and if not, why. Simple, right? Well, not really. I thought for a second and then answered the following: Japan is great and all, but it doesnāt feel like home, my friends, the people I love so dearly, are not here, so how could this possible feel like home. The conversation went on for a bit, but I was stuck with my answer. There was something with my answer that didnāt feel right.
Since I arrived here in Japan I did not ever miss my home city, neither my home country. Yeah for sure, I craved this or that food thing and thought about this or that place that was pretty cool back home, but thatās about it. I never thought I have to go back for the city or the countries sake. Japan is good enough for living here: the food is great, I have internet in my room and the weather is pretty nice. What else do you want?
A few days passed after I had that conversation with the other student. I came to realize that I was wrong, I didnāt feel at homeĀ because my friends are there. Donāt get me wrong, they are the greatest friends one can imagine to have, yet, when I actually thought about it, they didnāt feel like home. This realization was kind of mind-boggling for me. I always thought that was the case, but only now that I came to Japan do I realize that is not the case. But then where is my home?
As long as I can remember I felt lost, not knowing were Iād belong. Youād think that my room is the place were I should feel at home. I mean, it is my room, right? Not really, it just feels like a random room, nothing special. Maybe thatās because my room is as cold as it gets. No pictures, posters or decorations. There is nothing in there except the bare minimum. Itās kind of sad now that I think about itā¦ Also, neither my parents, nor my friends houses feel like home to me. Yeah sure, Iām always welcome there, but still, I wouldnāt call it a home.
At this point I even wonder what a home really is. A safe space? The place where you sleep? Or the place where you sit at night, unable to sleep and wondering what youāre doing with your life. I donāt really know. Right now Iām sitting in my room in a dorm in Japan, 1am in the night and writing this post. For the past four months this was my place to live, study, eat, cry and be happy. Is this my home? Does it even matter where it is, or was I right that the people are the important part of a home? But then, who are these people that give me my home and why did I not yet find them?
I feel like Iām just writing a bunch of incoherent sentences. This whole topic just confuses me and simultaneously makes me sad. I wonder if I ever find my home or if it even exists.
ā¦
Do you have a home?