On Homesickness

Disclaimer: This post was written almost in its entirety while Joe was home in California for 9 days visiting friends and family. That was over a month ago. It didn't seem appropriate when we were getting ready to visit Spain for 10 days, but it works on a Monday. 

It goes without saying that the hardest part of moving here is being away from people. Joe handles it better than I do overall, but maybe that is because he's known since the beginning that he'd get a chance to top up on friend-family time in January. Being away this long means missing things. It means missing Alicia's 30th birthday party, which I never would have missed under any other circumstances. It means I haven't met Cate's new boyfriend even though they're actively planning a life together. It means my mom turned 60 and I didn't get to take her out or plan a party for her, and Joe's dad turns 60 in a few weeks and we'll miss that too. I means that my nieces are growing and changing and Ivy may not know who I am the next time I see her. FaceTime is probably my best friend right now.

But homesickness isn't just about those things. If missing people is the number one factor in homesickness, numbers two and three for me are probably food and shopping. Let me explain.

While London has a lot to offer in terms of restaurants and my grocery stores are incredibly well stocked, every once in a while it would be nice to go somewhere and not have to translate the ingredients in my head. I know that aubergine means eggplant and courgette is zucchini. I have figured out that my grocery store calls powdered sugar icing sugar and hot cereal is porridge. I've learned to deal with the strange habit of calling both seeds and leaves coriander even though I think one of them is cilantro. Fine. I have even figured out some of the stranger ingredients that pop up often on menus. But damn, what I wouldn't give to eat in a restaurant I know and not gamble on some place I've never been. There is something innately satisfying about eating in a place where I don't have to read the whole menu and can just order something I know I'll love without thinking about it at all. I miss that. (And before you ask, yes, of course we've found a few go-to places here as well, but 5 months of frequenting a restaurant does not compare to 15 years.) I'm thinking about Elephant Bar, Luna Grill, Arby's (guilty pleasure), Miguel's across from the outlet mall, Casa de Bandini in Encinitas, Boudin, Nordstrom cafe, and countless other places I could go every weekend when I was home. I'm also missing Sprouts and Costco for groceries. (In fact, Costco may get its own dedicated post one of these days.)

And that leads to the other factor: shopping. I know I said I wouldn't be one of those expats who write an Ode to Target, but screw it. I miss Target. And Old Navy and Ann Loft. I miss knowing my sizes and being able to buy something off the rack without always trying it on first. I miss knowing where to go when I have a need and feeling confident that I am getting the quality I want for a price that is reasonable. I don't know the brands here well enough to feel that sort of confidence in my purchases. At home I would never buy products like shampoo or trash bags at the grocery store because I know that the prices are ridiculous and I can do much better at Costco/Target/Walmart, but here I just don't know. In addition to that, I have to walk or take a bus anywhere I want to shop so I am not about to wander all over the city in search of bar soap that costs £1 less.

Transportation is probably another factor in my homesickness this week. I miss my car. I miss the freedom of going some place on my own at my own pace and on my own terms. I miss the 78 freeway so much that I actually zoomed in on it on a map app in order to follow the route from my mom's house to our old apartment in San Marcos. We are incredibly lucky to have a bus stop that is at the end of our street. But that's still a walk up and down a hill rather than the ease of out a door, into the garage, and directly into your own personal vehicle like I had before. The public transportation system in London is awesome and I'm very glad we don't need cars here to get around; I spend about the same on Oyster fares as I would on gas (less actually) and I enjoy the calm feeling of being able to relax or read on my commute instead of stress myself about getting somewhere on time. Still, sometimes, I miss being able to jump in my car in my pajamas for those last-minute, just-a-few-items grocery runs. Or the multi-store, lots-of-bags-in-the-trunk stocking up trips. Sometimes I don't want to deal with the walking, the carrying, or the people. (Other times I love that once I board the bus, everything else is out of my hands so I can just sit back and relax until I arrive at my destination. Easy peasy.)

Please don't read this post the wrong way. I feel incredibly lucky to be able to absent myself from my normal life for a year, go back to school, travel, and spend endless time exclusively with my husband. I know that this year has been and continues to be the right decision for Joe and I for innumerable reasons and that we will look back on this time with fondness that erases the homesickness that comes in waves. I am grateful, since I know that most people will never find themselves in a position like ours with the chance to drop all responsibilities (kinda) and explore. I am thrilled that we are doing this and many, many times I find myself walking from school to the bus stop or along Camden High Street or up to our building and marveling at the amazing feeling that we've actually done it - we moved to another country and we have a life here. But every once in a while, even though I love the life we've built here, I am completely overwhelmed with how much I miss the life we had already built back home.

Just remember, comments cure the homesick. ;)