Coming Home
Salut, I have called many places home in my life. I wrote these words on our cohort Face Book, cute page-long intros we each made about ourselves before we set foot in Vietnam. I was the last person to make mine; sorry, Andy, I am bad at using Canva, and I kind of messed up the spacing. Anyway, how do I summarize myself into words? Most succinctly, I say that, that home is a traveling place and rarely ever a fixed point. It moves with me, and though I have learned that home can be a person, if you find the right one, for much of my life it comes and goes. I called Nam Dinh home for a short while, and then I called Midland home, then the Woodlands, then Lekki for 4 years, then the Woodlands again, then Austin for 3 years, Rome for a short while, Bishkek and my village there, Jalal-Abad for 2 years, Washington DC for the last year, Hanoi for a few weeks, and now Lang Son until the next summer. My life has existed in suitcases and a passport, a wallet and phone, and not much else. When li...