Old familiar
May 12th 2010 06:34
I'm visiting my past. I have deserted, for nine days, the people and the place I now call home, and flown to a different continent, a different hemisphere, to the land, the life, that was.
It was my life for 16 years, until three years ago. An exotic, escapist, exciting 16-year furlough from my homeland. I was 39 when I arrived here. I was 55 when I left. This place owns a large part of me.
It feels like I never left. Of course. The money is different but familiar. The faces are different but familiar, especially when they smile and say hey, long time no see, how are you?
The food is different but familiar. I can't believe I have gone three days without a decent coffee. I can't believe I have gone three years without this food.
The weather is different but familiar. The tropics. The humidity I do not miss.
It is bitter-sweet, this experience. So many good memories here; so many good things at home. Torn between two lovers.
It's true that travel is great. "The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page,” said Saint Augustine. But some people get caught. They stop in a place, and a while becomes a long while, and a stop becomes a second home.
And if you ever leave it, you have to leave things behind.
I look around this revisited place. I left my middle-age here.
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