Wednesday, September 21, 2011

A letter to Home...


The time has come. Yes, I've been living almost 4 months in the United States, and I have finally started feeling homesick. I was mostly in denial, thinking I’m just not a ‘homesick person’, but alas, the sensation has hit me lately and there isn’t much I can do about it. This so-called 'sickness' isn’t necessarily sadness. For me, its a thought process.

I guess the first time I noticed it was when the Springboks were getting their big sendoff to the world cup in New Zealand. I was in class, thinking about the tweets I’d read and the video’s I’d seen with all the thousands of people cheering for the boys. Memories from 2007, and last years World cup flooded back to me and I started to miss my country. I told the person next to me that I missed home. she said, “yes I know. I can tell by the flag you drew and the lyrics of your national anthem that you just wrote out on your notepad”. I looked down. there it was: the SA flag with the worlds of the anthem, Nkosi Sikalel’ iAfrika. I even added in a little bit of ‘Shosholoza’. Caught redhanded.

I think the rugby has made me miss home more than anything. Sometimes I tell my roommates or people around me in-depth team news about the Springboks just because I NEED to tell someone that Patrick Lambie is starting, or that Australia lost to Ireland. They just nod and pretend to be interested (which I appreciate). I guess its just not the same. not the same as hearing it on the street, on the radio and from our pastor on stage at church on a sunday!

Watching the boks play and singing the national anthem cheers me up a little, even though I usually watch alone from a dodgey online stream on a small pixelated screen. People say I wear South Africa shirts like every day. I also have my flag on my wall, and my scarf either around my neck, or on the side of my bed. (thanks to Siya and Damien for that one!) But this missing rugby has made me realise the small things that I miss about home. 

First and foremost, I miss my family. I miss my friends. my little carpet-dogs. I miss walking into a home. that is mine. that I can lounge around wherever I want, eat whatever is there, and watch as much South African and European sport as I’d like. I miss braai’s with family and braai’s with friends. I miss the smell of that boerewors cooking with the sound of Hugh Bladen screaming “STEFAN TERBLANCHE” in the background. I miss home-made meals. (no, “home-made” meals in a box don’t count). chutney, and its flavor of Simba chips. Meat that tastes like real meat, Coke and fanta orange -made with real sugar, BILTONG, milo cereal, R5 bunny chow.

I miss hearing different languages and that wonderfully bland thick durban accent. I miss being able to talk to car guards, security guards and petrol attendants. I miss seeing the ocean anytime I drive home or to church. I miss driving on the left-hand side of the road in a manual car. having said that, I miss driving. I miss Grace and playing in that awesome band. I miss saying ‘howzit bru’ and ‘cheers’. I miss the South Africa handshake (trust me, there is one).  I miss paying for things in Rands. I miss beautiful South African children. 

The list goes on and on. I know some of the mentioned ones are random, but I think it explains my point… 
I miss home.
I guess the old cliche, “home is where the heart is” is totally true, and I've finally come to understand it now.

I hope this blog doesn’t sound depressing, that was not the idea. I want you to know that I am loving life, my university and I love being here. God is so good, and every day I remember how blessed I am to be here. Even in all the joy reflected through facebook status’s about my great life, I miss you all. a lot. This is reflected in the fact that I have started counting down to the day I come home Christmas. Under 3 months now! also, I watched Invictus tonight. I had chills for most of the movie. I am glad I have been taught how important home is- It will make my 3 week visits mean so much more.

Lastly, I'm pretty sure facebook has rejected me as a South African. I never see anyone in my news feeds and I'm pretty sure you don't see me. I do love hearing South African voices on Skype calls though, so feel free to call anytime!

I love and miss you all. Don’t forget about me! 


Jordan