I assumed that being home sick was missing your home and your family and your friends (something you could call your roots) to the point that you want to go back to where you are from.
I believed that I was protected from being home sick because I never felt that I had roots somewhere. I left my parents’ house 20 years ago. I left my French-speaking province to an English-speaking province almost 10 years ago, when I was not speaking much English. And, I didn’t feel a cultural shock here, not as bad as in Egypt. So, why would I feel home sick in Italy when my roots are in the heart of the ones I love and who loves me back?
Apparently, this is where I was wrong. Without knowing, I pointed out exactly what is being home sick in my previous post. The exclusion… feeling excluded. Only because of the language barrier. It is worse that when I moved in Ontario and I couldn’t speak English beside to order “a coffee and a donut, please” with a very bad French accent. The worse part is that it is the people I work with that makes me feel the most excluded… I really thought: “Hey, I speak two languages, I should be okay this time” and I was wrong. It doesn’t help me much.
I know I am lucky and I am grateful to live this experience; however, it does not make it easier. It is definitively not the same to visit a country for three weeks than to live in an estrange country. Furthermore, knowing that you have to stay there for a minimum of two years make you feel kind of stuck. Aaaaah, this also means that for two years I will have a “no snow” Christmas!!!! This is a terrifying thought! ;)
I guess I am done complaining, but just for today… ;))
Before I finish this post, I want to share something fun. Of course it is a photos!
I have the pleasure to introduce you to Mr. Brownie.
This is my new acquisition and I have a special project for this guy… I just received it yesterday. It is also my first purchase on-line in Italy. Wout-wout, open the bottle of wine, we have to celebrate!!!
Enjoy!
Z…
