F
rom the moment I’ve been in Wales.
My life life turns into a powerful mix
of emotions – learning, improvising,
dealing with the unexpected. For a while
the word “routine” is dismissed from my
vocabulary to make space for an ever ris-
ing adrenalin thrill ride. New places, new
habits, new challenges, new people. Start-
ing new terrified me, but it’s unusual-
ly addictive. Freedom feels different now
when I’m living without my family here.
that you will have too when you are here.
Being here times moves in a fast pace.
As if I were looking through the car win-
dow – everything moves really slowly at
the back, in the distance, while in front of
me life passes by at full speed. I’d receive
news from home – birthdays that I’ve
missed, celebrations I weren’t be able to at-
tend, people who left without getting the
chance to say goodbye one last time. It’s
hard sometime to reach out for family at
that time of need because of the 8 hours
time differences. When I’m up, they’re
asleep. When they’re up, I’m sleeping .
Time is so distorted now that I learn how
to measure it in tiny little moments, either
a Facetime call with my family or friends.
Even though I’ve always grew up being in-
dependent, the simplest task can become
a huge challenge here. Processing paper-
work, paying bills, knowing which bus to
take. There’s always moments of distress,
but I’ve soon filled with more patience
than I never knew I had in me, and ac-
cept that asking for help is not only in- With Danial by my side sometimes we
evitable, but also a very healthy habit. would turn up some ‘Hari Raya’ songs
and attempt to make our own ‘Capati’
Nostalgia always strikes me at least I expect or ‘Cekodok’ to cure that homesickness.
it. A food, a song, a smell. The smallest tri-
fle overwhelmed me with homesickness. I However as time pass by, I sudden-
broke down once in the toilet of the facul- ly feel at home here. I became sad
ty (seriously) calling my cousin. I express thinking that I’ll leave here someday.
my alien feeling being in this country that Now I have a new definition of home.
I never knew I would feel. It isn’t that I hat- Home is the person traveling with you,
ed being here, It’s a feeling of being an out- the people you leave behind, the streets
sider and missing those little thing I never where your life takes place. Home is also
thought I’d miss – the annoyance of my lit- the random stuff in the flat, those things
tle brother, that ‘Nasi Lemak’ mama cook, you’ll get rid of in the blink of an eye when
the sound of ‘Adhan’ from the mosque and the time to leave comes. Home is all those
the waft smell of ‘mamak’ restaurants. All I memories, all those long-distance calls
wanted to do was to share that feeling with with your family and friends, a bunch of
someone who’d understand me. While pictures. Home is just where the heart is.
calling my parents might be the cure but And if you can accept that, wherever you
I wouldn’t want to worry them, a feeling are in the world you can live happily.
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