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Home Is So Sad.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” - St. Augustine Sneaking a few minutes here on the netbook to type this. I’ve been in London for four days now and am already realizing that one week here is nowhere near enough to explore this place. I could live here my entire life and never feel bored because there would always be so many corners to search, to importune. I haven’t forgotten where I’ve just come from yet, though. Today in Camden Market I passed by a stall named A La Turk and I spotted the orange rice and skewed kebabs and was hit by a pang of nostalgia – I miss Istanbul and Cankiri; all its food, people, and parties. The Congress was an out-of-this-world experience; what wouldn’t I give to be back with them for just one more day? And yet at the same time, throughout my sojourn overseas, never once have I stopped missing home. FC and the WYC delegates I got to know can tell you that I developed this habit of saying “In Malaysia…” (inside joke for the Findik aile –Kristjan would be so proud!) Being straddled across three countries, three continents, three worlds is such a strange feeling. I miss Turkiye, I miss Malaysia, and I am going to miss London when I leave it. Sometimes I wake up in my cousin’s room wondering what happened to the lurid pink curtains of the dorm in Istanbul, or where my Venetian blinds at home are. Sometimes when I have a quite moment to myself like this one, I think about Malaysia and Turkiye and how much I miss them both… And I also wonder which one I miss more. Don’t misunderstand! For obvious reasons I love Malaysia and I will always come back to serve my country no matter what happens in the future. But I found amazing friends and experiences elsewhere, halfway across the planet. I feel like I am experiencing life for the first time, and it’s happening in someplace other than what I thought of as my home. It feels wonderful, and I don’t want to leave that behind. On 22nd of August I will be leaving for Malaysia, but I’m going to be seeing its people and culture differently – can I still call it home? Back to A-Level Literature then: what makes a home? If home is a physical structure, the dorms of Yildiz, my cousin’s room and my house in Malaysia have become my homes. If home is with people you love, my home then fell apart when the Congress ended, to be strewn all over the globe with no definite sense of existence. Home might be where the heart is, but somewhere, sometime during these last few weeks, I have lost track of what home is and, therefore, the sense of where I really belong.
INTRODUCING
Name: Louise
13 April 1992
You can only call me Lulu if you don’t think the name’s funny.
I am a member of the Smiley Conspiracy and a proud ex-CHS-ian, graduating class of 2009. Now doing A-Levels at HELP University College. Is proudly Malaysian, but doesn’t look like it and is proud of that too.
This is the 7th time I am editing this about section of the blog this year; I have sort of accepted that my personality is ever-evolving, ever-changing, therefore rendering my moods as volatile as the weather. But just as there are some things that have stood untouched across the centuries by harsh weather, so there are some things with me that remain ever the same: a belief that to live is to learn, and the ability to bounce back from setbacks.
What I love also remains constant. I love good food, dancing, fresh experiences, open minds and friendly people, all of which can be found in the wonderful wonderful city that is Istanbul. I love musicals, plays, good books, stickers, owls, colourful wrapping paper, hugs and kisses, chocolates, almost any music from the 17th to the 21st century, intense debates and post-it notes.
Fictional characters I have been compared to (in terms of personality) are Piglet from Winnie The Pooh and Kelsi from High School Musical.
I dream of finishing this list [29/8/2010: list is undergoing revamp!], and my secret ambition is to become a hairdresser or bartender. Unfortunately I’m also incredibly kiasu, so I’m going to go to university just to show everyone that I can. But want to go to uni also because I love learning lah!
Words that describe me are impulsive, impetuous, quixotic, sanguine, quirky, bewildered, kiasu and hodgepodge. The last one also refers to my sense of fashion.
*GRINS* :D
Home Is So Sad.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” - St. Augustine Sneaking a few minutes here on the netbook to type this. I’ve been in London for four days now and am already realizing that one week here is nowhere near enough to explore this place. I could live here my entire life and never feel bored because there would always be so many corners to search, to importune. I haven’t forgotten where I’ve just come from yet, though. Today in Camden Market I passed by a stall named A La Turk and I spotted the orange rice and skewed kebabs and was hit by a pang of nostalgia – I miss Istanbul and Cankiri; all its food, people, and parties. The Congress was an out-of-this-world experience; what wouldn’t I give to be back with them for just one more day? And yet at the same time, throughout my sojourn overseas, never once have I stopped missing home. FC and the WYC delegates I got to know can tell you that I developed this habit of saying “In Malaysia…” (inside joke for the Findik aile –Kristjan would be so proud!) Being straddled across three countries, three continents, three worlds is such a strange feeling. I miss Turkiye, I miss Malaysia, and I am going to miss London when I leave it. Sometimes I wake up in my cousin’s room wondering what happened to the lurid pink curtains of the dorm in Istanbul, or where my Venetian blinds at home are. Sometimes when I have a quite moment to myself like this one, I think about Malaysia and Turkiye and how much I miss them both… And I also wonder which one I miss more. Don’t misunderstand! For obvious reasons I love Malaysia and I will always come back to serve my country no matter what happens in the future. But I found amazing friends and experiences elsewhere, halfway across the planet. I feel like I am experiencing life for the first time, and it’s happening in someplace other than what I thought of as my home. It feels wonderful, and I don’t want to leave that behind. On 22nd of August I will be leaving for Malaysia, but I’m going to be seeing its people and culture differently – can I still call it home? Back to A-Level Literature then: what makes a home? If home is a physical structure, the dorms of Yildiz, my cousin’s room and my house in Malaysia have become my homes. If home is with people you love, my home then fell apart when the Congress ended, to be strewn all over the globe with no definite sense of existence. Home might be where the heart is, but somewhere, sometime during these last few weeks, I have lost track of what home is and, therefore, the sense of where I really belong.
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