Two thoughts have manifested themselves recently-one, this trip has solidified my love for the people around me and increased my desire to help others and two, homesickness is way more real than anyone ever gives it credit for.
I’ve become so close with everyone on this trip that it seems like all of their quirks and nuances have started to feel like second nature to me. I think once people opened up and started talking about their bodily functions, we broke down the wall of politeness and entered a world where we could just be ourselves. For example, I decided that I liked Vanessa, not after we’d roomed together or gone shopping together, but the minute we were trapped in our small room in Chaksibote and Aimee farted.
Naturally, Aimee was used to the societal pressure that farting was not something to be done in public, and was very cute about it. She was blushing and apologizing, and it was obvious to all of us that she was embarrassed, but instead of doing the polite thing and brushing it off, Vanessa looked her dead in the eye and farted back – loudly.
Needless to say, that was the moment I knew I’d made a fierce friend.
Small things like that have made this trip so much easier for me, and I’ve watched myself growing more and more comfortable with the people surrounding me, but unfortunately for every positive there is a negative and for me that is the lack of my family.
I started to realize that there were so many tiny, beautiful things about them that I was missing. Even things that I’d been annoyed with before became things I’d begun to miss, like the way my dad’s jokes never made any sense, or how he was constantly complaining about one thing or another. I’d miss the way my mom smells, and the feeling of breathing her in after a long day. I missed my little sister’s laugh, and how every time she’d giggle she’d wrinkle her nose and squint her eyes like she had a secret that she didn’t quite know how to share. But most of all, I yearned for the feeling of lying on my bed and listening to the world upstairs.
I missed the constant stomping of feet, the clattering of dishes in the kitchen and my sister’s guitar strumming the same six chords, over and over again. I wanted to hear my dog barking at the air and scrambling around the living room looking for something to play with aside from his own feet. I needed the sound of the TV on full blast, so I could fall asleep to the sounds of law and order and the comfort of knowing my father was still awake.
I suppose I never thought twice about homesickness, because I was never too worried about wanting a home like that, but it was strange to feel that way even if it was only for an instant.
~Analis