Between the Canals: What is Home, Anyway?

A question I've grappled with constantly since I left for college, I have continued to wonder how to begin answering this question throughout much of this semester. And, although I have had my moments of intense homesickness and wanting to be around something familiar finally, this weekend was quite the affirmation that (1) home is always home and Bethesda is my home always because of the incredible family and friends I have there; (2) home is so much more than a place or geographical location; (3) home is not always inherent: it can be created, too; and (4) Amsterdam is hands-down a new home of mine.

The first of these points was highlighted so well this weekend when I traveled to the beautiful Rome to visit Lex. From the moment she texted me half an hour before picking me up at the Terravision (loyal shuttle bus) cafe in the Termini train station to our last hug before I headed back to the airport, I was right at home. We know exactly how to make one another laugh, know when to tease and when to be sensitive, and are always somehow on the same page when we're ready for a heaping meal of deliciousness...and Lexi is a true pro at navigating the best of Italian cuisine at this point, which was a real treat. She beat me to the detailing of our visit in her blog, so here's the link for more details (see post "Home Meets Rome"):

http://eatplayloveitaly.blogspot.com/

Lex did such a good job expressing exactly what I felt like visiting her, and her explanation of the sights she took me to see (Vatican City -- St. Peter's basilica, Ponte Helio, the Trevi, Spanish Steps, Pantheon, and Colosseum) is far better than mine would be, so definitely take a look at her post to read more. The remaining pics from my camera are at the bottom of this post...No shock, I was stunned yet again by yet another stunningly gorgeous city.

When I spoke with my Grandma last week, she told me to stop at every street corner, each of which resembles the most beautiful painting...and she is totally right. Despite the not so scattered rain showers and our occasional ducking under awnings and into cafes for shelter from the buckets of rain falling upon our flimsy and incredibly lame umbrellas, Rome defended its magnificence with flying colors and never ever let me down. Unfortunately, though, my recently discovered lactose intolerance came with me to Italy and the lactaid pills, wonderful as they are for little slices of cheese, were defenseless against the cream sauces and ricotta-stuffed ravioli I consumed. The stomach aches were well worth it, though...my taste-buds were dancing all weekend.

More important than the sights and the food that kept us running all weekend, though, was the way overdue and much deserved reunion of two best friends. We laughed and laughed and even cried a little, went out together, watched a movie, talked about high school friends, winter break plans, and the future and marveled in both excitement and fear at the reality of growing up. Staying up to date on the daily details is not always realistic, but we have kept each other well informed about the important stuff, and Lex is definitely still a friend I turn to for the best laughs and support. Our visit was pretty spontaneous (I bought my unexpectedly cheap ticket less than a month prior) but surprisingly well-timed for the both of us.

We are each facing the final two weeks of our time abroad, and realizing the reality of this limited time has brought a whole host of mixed emotions. I feel like a little pendulum swinging back and forth between severe homesickness and never ever (ever) wanting to let go of my experience in Amsterdam. Watching Lex come to similar realizations about the impending end to her journey was sad but also validating for each of us, and somehow nostalgic as we worked through the emotional roller-coaster together. Hot tea, stroopwaffels, chatting away, and curling up under a warm blanket to watch a goofy movie was the perfect remedy, and thank goodness we had each other. The whole weekend brought about this great affirmation of how strong my ties remain to the place I grew up, but it's the people that have made Bethesda's streets and billy goat trail paths feel homey; the nostalgia that rushes back when I'm home is rooted in experiences and relationships, and my friendship with Lex is among the strongest I've had.

But, like I said, I am quickly discovering the possibility of home as a created space and a process of developing foundations of nostalgia for landscapes once as foreign as the language spoken on the other side of the world. And so, here I am in Amsterdam, this place filled with landscapes once blank canvases that I've painted my experiences upon and thus I am home. When I hopped on my bike after arriving at Amsterdam Centraal, my legs spun in familiar circles and, cheesy as it sounds, the feeling of pushing through the breeze to the tune of my tires pattering atop the cobblestone streets all the way to my bike shed made me comfortable to the point of giddiness: yes, this is real. Somehow, amidst the final papers staring at my still hesitant and diverted gaze, I'll find the time to be continually distracted by the canals and my friends here, knowing that my conflicted feelings are a blessing in disguise: it's a good problem I have, I suppose, to feel sad to leave one home to return to another.

Documented Magnificence: