All of My Home Sweet Homes

Home is not a place…it’s a feeling

[homesick222]

The sign in the airport you see when you enter Japan. おかえりなさい is better translated to “Welcome back” or “Welcome home”. 

Source: Photo by me.

Narita Airport 

[homesick222]

Visit Original Link

TravelSounds. “Tokyo - Metro.” YouTube, YouTube, 10 Nov. 2013, www.youtube.com/watch?v=jc9qCcbO6Mg&t=4s.

[homesick222]

Tokyo

7:02pm. Five minutes until my train arrives. I make my way to the elevator outside my apartment and descend down from the 9th floor to the 1st. Four minutes until the train. The two sliding glass doors in the lobby open and a cold blast of fresh air hits my face as I speed walk toward the street. Only a few cars pass so I quickly cross the street to the train station. Three minutes until the train. I take the stairs two steps at a time down to the ticket gate and quickly swipe my card. Two minutes. Another set of stairs and I’m on the platform. One minute. The platform is pretty empty, one of the perks of living in a station that isn’t too popular. But where I’m headed is the center of the city, the shopping and entertainment hub of Tokyo just a 25-minute train ride from my apartment. Shibuya station. At 7:07 on the dot, the train arrives and I step off the platform and onto the quiet train. Everyone sits silently as the train rumbles through the underground tunnels. A woman tired from a long day at work sleeps next to me. As we head closer to the final stop, more people shuffle onto the train. Men and women stand shoulder to shoulder, looking down at their phones, avoiding eye contact with the people around them. Although the train is packed now, the only audible sounds are coughs and a low hum of conversations.

When we finally arrive to Shibuya, the train is packed to the brim, people squished against the doors like a can of sardines. The doors open and everyone on the train files out in an orderly fashion. The station is packed as I push my way to the exit at the main street. Shibuya. The night sky is dark but advertisements flash across the big screens that surround the area, lighting up the streets. The silence of inside the train is forgotten as the sounds of the city take over. Hundreds of people cross the famous “scramble” street crossing, tourists holding their selfie sticks as they show off the city. Men and women are engrossed in conversations as people rush past each other. The bright pink and orange of a group of girls on their way to meet friends, the black and grey of men in suits. Tourists stop in the middle of the street to take a quick photo. This melting pot of so many different faces, colors, and lives. Home.

What is home to me? From an outsider’s perspective, Tokyo might just be another city in Asia. For me, Tokyo is my home. The home where I grew up. A home where I can rely on the train to come at 7:07 on the dot, no second later. A home where being half-from-somewhere-else is pretty much the same as being foreign. A home where I can trust that my wallet will be returned after dropping it on the street. A home where people stare if you look a little bit out of place. A home with both sweet and sour. My home. Tokyo.

[homesick222]

Visit Original Link

CityRailWaratah2012. “Sydney Trains - Funny Hurstville Announcements.” YouTube, YouTube, 25 Aug. 2013, www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPSytmwDwSw.

[homesick222]

Sydney

“The next train to arrive on platform 4 goes to Bondi Junction, via Kogarah. First stop, Kogarah, then Rockdale, Wolli Creek, Sydenham, Redfern, Central, Town Hall, and then, all stations to.. Bondi Junction.” Pigeons squawk as a female voice makes the pre-recorded announcement to the people on the platform. This is the reason why I pronounce “via” with an Australian accent. The same warm voice from before I can remember, informing commuters of the train stops.

The train finally arrives, four minutes behind schedule. Hopping onto the train, I see that there are still a few seats open. Up the stairs to the upper deck or down the stairs to the lower? Upper deck, by the window. Buildings covered in graffiti flash by as the train moves forward. Even on the window, someone has carved out their name. The sky is clear and sunlight pierces into my eyes. It’s December, but it’s summertime in Sydney. As the train slows to stop at Kogarah, I look down at the people standing on the platform. A group of girls on their way to the beach. A old man eating a sandwich with pigeons pecking at his feet. A couple with a baby crying in their stroller. Inside the train, it’s loud. A group boys listen to music on their speakers in the back, confident that no one in the cart will ask to turn it down. A teenage girl is shouting at her mom, switching back and forth between Chinese and English. I see the last few flashes of the ocean glittering in the sun as the train moves onwards toward the city. “Next stop, Bondi Junction.” After a long ride to the last station on the train line, I’m ready to feel the sun on my skin. Another five minutes on a taxi down to the beach and we’ve made it. The famous Bondi Beach. The salt from the ocean stings my nose. Seagulls screech as they circle the clear skies, looking for food. The beach is sprinkled with people. Bikini clad girls lie in the sun, tanning their backs. A group of friends run off for a quick surf. A little boy grabs a handful of sand and messily smashes it into a mountain by his parent’s towels. A lifeguard in his uniform yellow shirt and red swim shorts blows his whistle.

It’s summer break for all of the Australians here, but winter break for most other tourists here. While my friends are at home drinking hot chocolate to stay warm, I get to eat ice cream and tan on the beach. While Santa Claus climbs down a chimney on a snowy day in Canada, Australia has Santa Claus riding the waves with his beard flying behind him.

The smell of the ocean. The brightness of the sand reflecting the sun. All the different people on the beach. All the different people on the trains. The sound of the train announcements at each station. All the different looking people with the same Australian accents. All of this is what I am homesick for when I’m not here. My home sweet home on the other side of the equator.

[homesick222]

Surfing Santa: Something that Australians see every Christmas 

Source: Z Wallpaper Christmas Surfing Santa Claus - 1440 x 900 - Christmas Santa Claus Awesome - Photo Image Free Beautiful.” Wallpaper Awesome, www.wallpaperawesome.com/z-wallpaper-christmas-surfing-santa-claus.php.

[homesick222]

Christmas time at Bondi Beach taken by my sister

[homesick222]

Visit Original Link

therelaxedguy. “3 HOURS of Gentle Night Rain, Rain, Rain Sounds - Sleep, Insomnia, Meditation, Relaxing, Yoga, Study.” YouTube, YouTube, 25 Nov. 2014, www.youtube.com/watch?v=q76bMs-NwRk&t=672s.

[homesick222]

Vancouver

There is a flash of lighting as I line up outside in the pouring rain. My new umbrella, only a week old, has been used everyday since its purchase. A handful of people are standing in front of me, their eyes all peeled for the bus. It’s getting late now, almost 5pm, the sun is long gone. Students in line are jittery after a long day of classes and studying.The sky is almost black, brightening every so often with flashes of lightning. The rain hits my umbrella and falls all around me. My sneakers are wet, my socks soaked with water.

The bus comes to a slow stop at the front of the line as we shuffle forward, all of us anxious there won’t be enough space for us to all fit. The warm air inside the bus is welcoming and the windows are fogged up from the heat. People chatter as the rain continues to fall and the bus driver moves onwards. A girl next to me is on her phone scrolling through Twitter. I can feel the weight of someone’s backpack pushing against my back as the bus swerves down the road. The boy sitting in front of me is tapping his feet to the rhythm in his earphones. 10 minutes pass and I’m at my stop. People move towards the door as it squeaks open and the air fills with muttered thank-you’s and excuse-me’s as we exit the bus.

The christmas lights put up a few weeks ago illuminates the rain, and trees glow as people head their own separate ways. I take quick brisk steps down the street, my apartment building almost visible through the rain drops. My socks squish with each step, my feet numb from the cold. Pressing my keys against the sensor, the front door clicks open. The building is only 4 stories high but the elevator makes it feel like it’s climbing 10 levels. The elevator finally reaches the third floor and with a slow thud comes to a stop. My apartment is at the end of the hall. The door is unlocked and I push the apartment door opens, a flood of heat and light hitting my skin. My two roommates are already back, one is cooking dinner which fills every room with a mouth watering smell. The other is sitting on the dining room table, still working hard at work. I go into my room and shake out of my wet jacket and scarf. I flop onto my bed and my body sinks into the mattress. Getting into bed feels like a much needed reward after a long, wet day.

Home sweet home. Only 2 years have passed since I moved to Vancouver for university but I think I’ve already found a home here too. Home is the feeling I get when I curl into bed after a long day at school. Home is the warmth I feel when coming home to my roommates. Home is the serenity I feel when seeing the mountains on the bus downtown. Home is the magic I feel when watching the sunset on the beach. Home is the feeling of relief after the rain stops. Home is the love I feel with the people here.

[homesick222]

The view of the mountains towards downtown Vancouver 

Source:

Imoo, Clayton. “The Sights of Downtown Vancouver.” Clayton Imoo, 19 Feb. 2015, claytonimoo.com/just-me/the-sights-sites-of-downtown-vancouver/.

[homesick222]

The view of the mountains towards downtown Vancouver 

Source:

Imoo, Clayton. “The Sights of Downtown Vancouver.” Clayton Imoo, 19 Feb. 2015, claytonimoo.com/just-me/the-sights-sites-of-downtown-vancouver/.

[homesick222]

Vancouver

There is a flash of lighting as I line up outside in the pouring rain. My new umbrella, only a week old, has been used everyday since its purchase. A handful of people are standing in front of me, their eyes all peeled for the bus. It’s getting late now, almost 5pm, the sun is long gone. Students in line are jittery after a long day of classes and studying.The sky is almost black, brightening every so often with flashes of lightning. The rain hits my umbrella and falls all around me. My sneakers are wet, my socks soaked with water.

The bus comes to a slow stop at the front of the line as we shuffle forward, all of us anxious there won’t be enough space for us to all fit. The warm air inside the bus is welcoming and the windows are fogged up from the heat. People chatter as the rain continues to fall and the bus driver moves onwards. A girl next to me is on her phone scrolling through Twitter. I can feel the weight of someone’s backpack pushing against my back as the bus swerves down the road. The boy sitting in front of me is tapping his feet to the rhythm in his earphones. 10 minutes pass and I’m at my stop. People move towards the door as it squeaks open and the air fills with muttered thank-you’s and excuse-me’s as we exit the bus.

The christmas lights put up a few weeks ago illuminates the rain, and trees glow as people head their own separate ways. I take quick brisk steps down the street, my apartment building almost visible through the rain drops. My socks squish with each step, my feet numb from the cold. Pressing my keys against the sensor, the front door clicks open. The building is only 4 stories high but the elevator makes it feel like it’s climbing 10 levels. The elevator finally reaches the third floor and with a slow thud comes to a stop. My apartment is at the end of the hall. The door is unlocked and I push the apartment door opens, a flood of heat and light hitting my skin. My two roommates are already back, one is cooking dinner which fills every room with a mouth watering smell. The other is sitting on the dining room table, still working hard at work. I go into my room and shake out of my wet jacket and scarf. I flop onto my bed and my body sinks into the mattress. Getting into bed feels like a much needed reward after a long, wet day.

Home sweet home. Only 2 years have passed since I moved to Vancouver for university but I think I’ve already found a home here too. Home is the feeling I get when I curl into bed after a long day at school. Home is the warmth I feel when coming home to my roommates. Home is the serenity I feel when seeing the mountains on the bus downtown. Home is the magic I feel when watching the sunset on the beach. Home is the feeling of relief after the rain stops. Home is the love I feel with the people here.

[homesick222]

Visit Original Link

therelaxedguy. “3 HOURS of Gentle Night Rain, Rain, Rain Sounds - Sleep, Insomnia, Meditation, Relaxing, Yoga, Study.” YouTube, YouTube, 25 Nov. 2014, www.youtube.com/watch?v=q76bMs-NwRk&t=672s.

[homesick222]

Christmas time at Bondi Beach taken by my sister

[homesick222]

Surfing Santa: Something that Australians see every Christmas 

Source: Z Wallpaper Christmas Surfing Santa Claus - 1440 x 900 - Christmas Santa Claus Awesome - Photo Image Free Beautiful.” Wallpaper Awesome, www.wallpaperawesome.com/z-wallpaper-christmas-surfing-santa-claus.php.

[homesick222]

Sydney

“The next train to arrive on platform 4 goes to Bondi Junction, via Kogarah. First stop, Kogarah, then Rockdale, Wolli Creek, Sydenham, Redfern, Central, Town Hall, and then, all stations to.. Bondi Junction.” Pigeons squawk as a female voice makes the pre-recorded announcement to the people on the platform. This is the reason why I pronounce “via” with an Australian accent. The same warm voice from before I can remember, informing commuters of the train stops.

The train finally arrives, four minutes behind schedule. Hopping onto the train, I see that there are still a few seats open. Up the stairs to the upper deck or down the stairs to the lower? Upper deck, by the window. Buildings covered in graffiti flash by as the train moves forward. Even on the window, someone has carved out their name. The sky is clear and sunlight pierces into my eyes. It’s December, but it’s summertime in Sydney. As the train slows to stop at Kogarah, I look down at the people standing on the platform. A group of girls on their way to the beach. A old man eating a sandwich with pigeons pecking at his feet. A couple with a baby crying in their stroller. Inside the train, it’s loud. A group boys listen to music on their speakers in the back, confident that no one in the cart will ask to turn it down. A teenage girl is shouting at her mom, switching back and forth between Chinese and English. I see the last few flashes of the ocean glittering in the sun as the train moves onwards toward the city. “Next stop, Bondi Junction.” After a long ride to the last station on the train line, I’m ready to feel the sun on my skin. Another five minutes on a taxi down to the beach and we’ve made it. The famous Bondi Beach. The salt from the ocean stings my nose. Seagulls screech as they circle the clear skies, looking for food. The beach is sprinkled with people. Bikini clad girls lie in the sun, tanning their backs. A group of friends run off for a quick surf. A little boy grabs a handful of sand and messily smashes it into a mountain by his parent’s towels. A lifeguard in his uniform yellow shirt and red swim shorts blows his whistle.

It’s summer break for all of the Australians here, but winter break for most other tourists here. While my friends are at home drinking hot chocolate to stay warm, I get to eat ice cream and tan on the beach. While Santa Claus climbs down a chimney on a snowy day in Canada, Australia has Santa Claus riding the waves with his beard flying behind him.

The smell of the ocean. The brightness of the sand reflecting the sun. All the different people on the beach. All the different people on the trains. The sound of the train announcements at each station. All the different looking people with the same Australian accents. All of this is what I am homesick for when I’m not here. My home sweet home on the other side of the equator.

[homesick222]

Visit Original Link

CityRailWaratah2012. “Sydney Trains - Funny Hurstville Announcements.” YouTube, YouTube, 25 Aug. 2013, www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPSytmwDwSw.