Welcome Home?

I arrived in Seattle yesterday after a long day of travel.

We arrived at the airport in Tegucigalpa after breakfast early enough to check in the nearly-150 of us on 3 different airlines before flying out that afternoon. The last farewells were said and everyone told to come visit their town soon. About 20 of us boarded the flight to Atlanta where, 3 hours later, we made our way through Customs. I hand them my passport and they ask the usual questions about what I'm bringing. Realizing that I've returned to the United States with my American passport, they say to me:



"Welcome home."





\ˈhōm\
a: one's place of residence
b: the social unit formed by a family living together
c: a place of origin

I might be home, but I certainly don't feel at home.

a: relaxed and comfortable : at ease

b: in harmony with the surroundings

c: on familiar ground

I was just uprooted from what I considered my "home". And I'm also going back "home"? Do we really ever go back anywhere? We're always moving forward - changing, progressing, improving, developing into new people; people with new experience, new understanding, new perspective.

Going back is never normal. Return to the old; the faded fragments of worn memories. This "familiar ground" and I need to get reacquainted, because we've both changed. Fortunately for us, we're adaptive creatures by nature. But some habits take more effort to change than others. I can't tell you how weird it feels to throw toilet paper in the toilet. And the fact that it feels weird, makes me feel more weird. Haven't seen any over-crowded buses or too many hitchhikers, but I did catch one of these guys on the road -

Que le vaya bien.

This guy makes me think I won't have as much culture shock as I thought. Or maybe I'll have more? Either way, I think we just have to treat each place, new or old, with an open heart and an open mind because nothing's ever really the same. But you know what? That's OK.

Adam