Bagging 2 Cultures

Since coming home, it has been awkward. No, I am not saying I am
denying his place I called home, but I have found a second home too.

A friend commented that it is sad to hear me say I prefer England than
my own home country; one I spent only a year, and the other nearly 30
years. However, this is not the first time I feel like this. When I
first went in 2008, I did not want to come back. This place is very
much associated to "hiding myself" and braving it when I did not feel
like it.

Now, sitting here, I have to read mails from England agan and again
and again - yes, I am that homesick. Wen I first arrived in England
last year, I wanted so much to have MacDonald's because I was
homesick. MacDonald's equalled mum. Now, cups of tea equals my English
mum and dad. Homesick again.

In England, we talked verbally about things, and get a cuddle or two.
Here, we hardly talk,...no, we still talk, but not what is in our
hearts. We talk non-verbally - cooking your favourite dish, giving you
your comfort, buying you your favourite sweets, tidying up your
things. I guess, we have never really talked for years so, the
vocabulary is so limited for us to truly express ourselves freely.

I wish I could tell them I am homesick, I am afraid, I am worried, I
amnervous, I am anxious, I am lost. Maybe they know somehow???

Well, I should be thankful really. Ever since my stay in England, mum
has become more and more "chatty"with me. Not that we did not talk
before, in fact, we spent so much time eating out and shopping
together, which meanslots of talking. Yet, this is different, ...I
don't know how to explain it.

Well, this is my life.