My first and most likely my last thunderstorm on Catalina Island just struck. It’s a gloomy Friday morning and I have a day off. I don’t get days off very often and when I do I am usually living up every moment; SCUBA diving, kayaking, paddle-boarding, and hiking, or perhaps all of them mixed into one crazy adventure. My time on Catalina has been eventful, rewarding and empowering to say the least. But today is calm. I took a boat into the main town Avalon to run errands. I am waiting for my ride home. A small Boston Whaler, the unsinkable boat, will pick me up and no doubt leave me quite wet to the tumultuous waves in an hour. There is no better place to wait than CC Ghallagers. CC’s is an artsy wine, sake and chocolate bar filled with locally made cakes, perfumes and art pieces. It is classy, yet comfortable. By my side is a list of postcards I am yet to write, a hot chocolate and some fresh orchids sitting on the table. I just took a stroll down the streets of Avalon which are only inhabited by golf-carts, latino families, a crazy artist/sailor or two and some all-too-wealthy tourists. The houses are something cute and cottage-like out of a novel and the warm, steamy streets smell of fresh rain. American flags fly above every door step, and coincidentally I am wearing an over-sized American-bikini print tee-shirt and a contrasting Chanel bag. The attention to detail and the beauty of the side-walks here in the US is something I’ve commented on before. There is an incredible live-ability aspect to the US. In some ways it makes me want to stay here forever and live in a gorgeous little neighbourhood and enjoy the simple pleasures and luxuries of life.
Alas, however, my American Dream is coming to an end. My Visa is going to cost more than I’ll earn to renew it from the US and hence I am biting the bullet and moving home. This realization came as a shock to me at first. I had planned to stay in the US until mid-year next year with a visit home over Christmas. It took some time to adjust to my ‘decision’ to leave, albeit the lack of actual choice in the matter. Now, after some time to reflect and contemplate, I am thoroughly excited about moving forward. Fate always has a way of making sure we stick on track with our life purpose.
I’ve been thinking about what I want to do when I go home; what my abovementioned ‘life-purpose’ really is. I am still toying with the idea of moving to Europe and completing some kind of graduate program over there. I love the intensity of the history and traditions in Europe. Not only that, I feel they’re compatible with my own beliefs and values in most cases. When you’re away from home it’s easy to idealise ‘home’, and I have been guilty of that many times since I left 1.5years ago. However, there is a longing deep down in me that wants to stay put at ‘home’ and really build a life for myself. I promised myself that I would enjoy my 20s to discover the World. But I find myself at 22 wanting to settle down. How did this happen?
Along the way in my travels this time round, I started to realise that it doesn’t really matter where you are in the World. Everywhere is unique and special and everywhere will teach you a different life lesson in some capacity of another. However, deep-rooted at the bottom of every lesson is a lesson that teaches us to embrace ourselves and be at peace with whatever exists around us. For me, the ocean, family, historical traditions and etiquettes, the natural world, animals, weather, purity in relationships and a sense of home are fundamentals. I want to take dance classes, do yoga every morning, swim, surf, dive and play in the ocean, act in a play or two, eat local and organic food, speak well and enjoy good manners, get involved in my local politics and know my neighbours names – and heck I want to bake them cookies too! All of these things are things I want and I’ve realised that it does not matter where in the World I am, I still want these things. And most of all, I don’t want to have to start again… again. I’ve been travelling and starting again since I was 12.
When I go home, I will be celebrating my birthday on the 11/11/11 and this will be the second time I’ve celebrated my birthday at home with my family in 10 years. Given I’m only turning 23, this is not really ‘normal’. I also missed my 18th and 21st with my family, and I can’t remember the last time I celebrate my mum or dads birthday with them either; I want to make up for lost family time.
As I sit and contemplate, I listen to some Spanish guitar in the background, smell those orchids in front of me and consider ordering some sushi. Perhaps the answer is to find and build my base like I’m longing for, and travel not for life but for fun and bring the cultures home to me. Speaking of building my life, I must address the fact I left home as a woman on a quest for love and life abroad and alas I coming home solo. Whilst breaking up with Di was liberating in some ways, I feel very emotional thinking about the journey we undertook and that I will not be carrying on this journey anymore. I miss him a lot, it’s true. We had a very special love and I will always be grateful for that. That said, I also feel very complete and whilst I don’t think finding another companion at this stage is right for me (unless it’s a dog!) I feel more empowered as a single woman than I have my whole life. Watch out World, there isn’t anything holding me back.
I packed up all my belongings and sent them home, threw away 2 large suitcases of accumulated ‘things’ and all I am left with one 23kg suitcase like I started with. The contents are completely different. I have to say, living light is so grounding. I don’t feel weighted or burdened by belongings; a weight I never knew I was carrying until it was gone. Throwing away and packing up ‘my things’ (note how we feel the need to possess) was almost a spiritually enlightening ritual. The memories attached with each ‘thing’ forced me to stop and sit on my bed and reminisce. It feels like only yesterday I was in Norway looking out at the sun at 2am breathing in the freshest air I’ve ever breathed, or a week ago I was sitting with my grandparents in Germany embellishing in kaffe und kuchen. Brazil… oh Brazil. Even though Brazil was overwhelming for me in far too many ways, culturally and emotionally, I am longing to go back to Fabiano’s apartment in Curitiba or stop at a roadhouse and order pao de queijo. What a journey. I have been in the US for over one whole year now. I find it incomprehensible I was staying with Di in a hippy Berkeley backpackers, two days later I was bringing my bed home in a taxi from Ikea and a few months after that I was re-learning to walk after a nasty ski accident, then I was trolling the streets working for environmental causes in San Fran and since then I’ve been playing with dolphins almost every day whilst changing the lives of hundreds of American children. Wow.
So I ask myself – 1.5 years abroad, have I changed? Have I learned? Have I grown? Yes. Absolutely. Am I ready to go home? Sure. Am I ready to say goodbye to it all? No, never, because even though my current journey is ending, it is only the beginning of the next one. And so my story goes on, across every ocean.
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