Going Home?

I’m starting to understand what people mean when they say you can never go home.

In some ways, of course, that’s ridiculous. I came home, and the people that I left behind were waiting for me. Of course I had changed and so had they, but I didn’t find that there was a rift between myself and any of my friends and family that hadn’t been there before.

Some of the changes that I had to deal with when I came home were unreasonably upsetting. While I was away, for example, Canada started phasing in new plastic bills to replace the old cotton currency, and this upset me far more than it should have. Trying to buy Canadian money on my way home from Ethiopia, I was certain that the lady at the for-ex counter was making a mistake, because I’m a Canadian, and I know that our money isn’t lime green. Except that now it is, and I’m still trying to get used to it.

Other things were pretty easy to accept. I haven’t been as cold all the time as I thought I would be. As it turns out, despite the lower temperatures in Ontario, it still feels nice and hot because of the humidity; sometimes uncomfortably so. In fact, there are times where I actually feel cold, but I notice that I’m sweating because it’s just that muggy out. It’s kind of weird, but better than just being freezing all the time.

I knew that I would miss Ghana. But I’m finding that it’s a little bit more complicated than that. It’s not as if I sit around here wishing I were back in Ghana and pining for my life there most of the time. Sure, that happens occasionally, but mostly I just feel like I miss being away. I often feel like I want to be anywhere but here, not because I don’t like it here, but because it doesn’t really feel like home… so I don’t want to be where it should feel like home. If I’m going to feel like a stranger, I want to actually be in a strange land, going on another adventure.

The things that I miss about Ghana are strange sometimes. I miss the people and the food, of course. Those things I expected to miss. But some of the things that I miss really surprise me. I miss the oppressive dry heat of the sunshine, when you feel like you’re walking into an oven because the air has that hot cooked taste to it, and the wind blows so you don’t feel sweaty, but the wind is hot too, so your skin feels sharp and tingly. I miss the awkward and difficult conversations that I had with strangers about my life and theirs, that were often downright uncomfortable because of our differences. I miss waking up with the sun and having the whole world wake up with me, and I miss coming home after a long hot day and washing off the ubiquitous red dust of Africa.

Having moved into my new apartment in Peterborough, and started my new job (as VIP coordinator at Peterborough Musicfest) I’m trying to settle in and get a routine going, but none of what I’m doing feels routine. It just doesn’t feel permanent to me. But I’ve only been back in Canada for about two months now, and I’ve only been here in Peterborough for about two weeks, so maybe it’s just too soon for this to feel real and to feel like home. Maybe it’s just a matter of time. I guess I’ll find out, and I’ll keep you posted.