I have seen a number of movies set in Chicago lately – they just happen to be on the American TV stations – along with a ton of other films that seem to highlight vistas of different states: Crazy Heart and 127 Hours and the American West. Capote and the Great Plains. And always, always New York...
Every time I see them, I look out my own window and am instantly reminded that I'm thousands of miles away. Its weird, because I don't consciously feel different or very far away or, alternatively, very close to any of these places, or even home (wherever that is these days) until I actually look out the window.
My good friend, Maria, wrote me the other day and told me she thinks Facebook is unfair because she can look at my page and feel like she can still call me and I'll come right over for some kind of adventure, crazy or mundane. Then she remembers that she can't.
This living abroad thing is packed with adventure and newness and immersion in the “different” and “foreign” - except that over here I'm the “foreign”...but I'm coming to realize that, no matter how fun or enlightening, this little sojourn may also remind me of how much I love my own country.
I know I'm not as far away as you are, but I know what you mean. Sometimes I don't really realize how far away from home I am until I am watching the wather channel and they show the big map, and I realize I'm all the way down and over there.
ReplyDeleteBUT, you are right here in my heart, so you're not as far away as you may think. xoxo