Why do I feel more at home travelling?
|On a rooftop in Pakistan.|
Every time I travel, I fall in love with the country I'm visiting. I picture myself living there, the people there get me, I feel at home. And when I come back, my post travel-blues hit me hard.
My parents came from Pakistan to Norway in the 70s. I was born and raised at Sola, a little town in Rogaland county and I think Sola has a lot to offer. Like, we have sandy beaches, our own airport and because of the wind: windsurfing. These last years however, I've been living in the metropolitan city Oslo, which I think is pretty awesome too. At some point, Sola got too small for me.
I love Oslo, and it is my home now. But why do I always feel more at home everywhere else than my actual home? When I was in Los Angeles and talked with strangers about my creative ambitions, they were totally on board with that and shared some of their own as well. I remember one of them saying "You're totally LA".
When I was in Japan, on our way to do karaoke (at Karaoke-kan, the same spot as in "Lost in translation") with our new Japaneese friends I felt so happy. I remember wearing a wig and cracking jokes and people actually laughing at them.
When I was just strolling around in Berlin, I thought to myself, "I wish I could walk in these streets everyday".
|Los Angeles, USA|
I get it, when you're travelling you do stuff everyday, you are looking for things to do. When you're living somewhere, things calm down and you don't explore as much. But the thing is, I've never lived anywhere else than Norway, and each time I make connections with people living in other countries I am reminded of all the possiblities. That I could actually live somewhere else and I would do alright.
I am aware of the fact that when I'm travelling, I am in a bubble, but why does it hurt so much when that bubble bursts?
For a while I thought that this had something to do with me being a third culture kid, but then I noticed other travellers (all kinds of travellers) talking about this exact same feeling, it got me thinking about how restless I am, how restless all travellers are. Maybe that's why we travel so much...
If we stay somewhere too long, we stop feeling like we belong, it stops feeling like home, because travelling is home.