I lived in a 3 bedroom apartment on Bromley Avenue for 13 years of my life. Rocks thrown by neighbourhood kids had shattered our windows. Our front wall was covered with yoke stains. We had a huge yard for kids to play, but it was more empty than not. I learned later that the place I called home was located in the ghetto.
My parents finally had the courage to change, so we moved into a house on MacArthur Blvd. It is still their current residency, and it has always been an unfamiliar setting to me. I was given a room to share with my sister, and within the confines of that room, I was allowed to organize the space the way I wanted it to be. For the first time, I felt lost, because I had to create something rather than mold my habits into fitting a space that was already constructed.
As I left to Philadelphia for college, I was only “home” for December and January. Although summer afforded me time to become more familiarized with my parent’s place, I worked throughout the first two summers of my college. I don’t recall having the time to really become engrained in that setting. It was just a shelter for sleeping. My last summer was spent in Manila, and I literally had ten days in Oakland. During those ten days, I was frantically running around trying to become reacquainted with friends and family and getting ready to leave for school again.
Embarking outside of the United States and going to Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand has really made me wonder what I actually consider a “home”. I have been in limbo for the past 3 weeks in Bangkok and was never sure of how I felt in the big villa past Wat Bo Road in Siem Reap. I’m not sure of what lies ahead either. The uncertainty is frustrating, but I guess that is life in general.
Home, though, is not a location to me anymore. Home is an atmosphere created by the people who make up a place. Because of that definition, I have also realized that home isn’t something that is constant. Oakland has changed. My family and friends have changed. I have changed. Home isn’t something tangible anymore. It is how I view and choose to interact with the people at my current being.
Although I am not with people who I have known for a long time, I feel at home. And, I am glad that I do, because right now, it’s exactly what I need.
Darwinism: adaptation & survival.