I'm both lucky and blessed to have been able to study abroad for a period of time. Even if it was a short one. The experience has opened my eyes to so many new things, made me think differently about the world, about people, about values, about myself and also about God.
One of my goals in life is to be a local in a different city.
At present, I know all the good stuff about KL. Like where to get the cheapest food, the best buys, the most expensive wine, the best places to chill, and whatever else you might fancy. Slummiest neighbourhood? I know it. Upscale expatriate areas? I got it.
But I'd like to be know another city the way I know KL too.
I love it when I return to London/Nottingham and I know which line on the tube to take, where the best restaurants are (for my budget), and exactly where to head in Primark to get my basics. I also know which road to take to get to where I want. But alas, it's just so far away, and the exchange rate is too high to justify me going there every other year.
I love it when I go back to the Gold Coast, I know what I want to eat, and that I even have certain cravings for certain foods at certain places. I like how the culture isn't too far from mine and yet it couldn't be any more different. I like that I can count on the city to provide me what I want when I go there, and not feel like a total tourist.
And the best part, there's always so much more to discover and so much more to remember.
But I've not always felt this way. I felt a funny sense of betrayal for getting comfortable in another place. For almost calling it home. As if my original home would no longer be home if I accepted that my new place is home. It's all the mind anyhow. I could feel like this even in KL.
Whether it's my marital home, my church, my regular stalls, my workplace, my seat on the lunch table.
I don't really have a point. All I really want is to be truly comfortable being in another city-- calling it home/second home or mine.
I find extreme satisfaction in that.
xx
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