Namibia and I have a like/strongly dislike relationship. I like it over there, they vehemently do not like me over there and have made it as difficult for me to stay there as they could. That mountain of stories will have to wait for another time.
Due to the endless visa struggle, I inevitably must return to my home turf. Such was the case this past month, and so I write this now from the land of Obama and bourbon. Despite the hole next to me where the wheezing cats should be, the lack of Sniffel chasing dream warthogs on his pillow in the corner, and no Jay to pop by to steal a smooch, I’m enjoying my ephemeral US reinstatement.
At first, I had a problem remembering that I could speak English here. Before each sentence I’d begin the mental German translation, only to realize that those in my company would actually prefer to hear what I have to say in English. While that obstacle has slowly faded away, German still slips out from time to time. Today while shopping for flip flops (because Namibia destroys flip flops), a woman behind me sneezed. I whipped around to say “bless you”. Instead “gesundheit” came out. I am not sure if her look of bewilderment was from the random German or the random politeness.
While the initial excitement to be back may wear off, the appreciation never will. Appreciation to be able to speak to people on the street and know that we will understand each other. To be able to walk to a friend’s house when I am lonely, to walk to the store when I need beer, to call my mom on the phone. These are wonderful things.
Folks tell me they envy my migrant life. But I always tell them I envy theirs. They have their friends and family any time, in that magical place called home. I’ve lost that place. But I gained an appreciation for my country, the only one that always welcomes me back. And so I intend to indulge in all that it offers while I’m here. Until the day when I head back to Namibia and try to patch things up.