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13 Jul 2015

UBC Day 13: Fernweh



“....trust in my self-righteous suicide… I cry when angels deserve to die….”

An earbud slipped out and suddenly the world started existing again. I could hear my mother and step-dad going at it again, downstairs. I wondered why she’d married him if they could never get along. I sighed and wished for classes on a Sunday, I’d give anything to not having to listen to them call each other escalating levels of names.

My eyes glazed over as my mind beat a retreat from real life.

Images of castles in Ireland and cottages by German waterfalls floated around in my head. I could almost feel the heat of the Congo as I trekked through the dense foliage and I wondered if Tut’s curse is real as I stepped into his tomb. I try my hand at hula dancing and rappelled through the hard Andes, I also learnt how to say good morning in Maori from a local and try to remember to breathe as the cobblestoned pathways led me to pristine rocky beaches. I huddled with an Eskimo, I saw my country from the other side of the Niagara. I backpacked my way just in time for Tomatina and met a Duchess in Rome. I walked on the rim of the Path to Hell and got high on little cups of Turkish coffee. I revelled by Marine Drive in the rains, rode in a rickshaw in Jaipur right to a pink palace. Hot momos and sweet monks made my day. I stood by Lenin’s mausoleum quietly and looked up the stairs of Dostoyevsky’s museum. I made friends with ladyboys, tried sushi for the first and last time and rode my way through Terelj National Park. I found out if penguins are actually cute, fell in love with a Fijian boy, ate tacos with beans and spicy enchiladas too. I also….

The sound broke both the glass and my reverie.

My breath came out in a deep swoosh.
If sighs could relate stories of stifled lives lived.

I was still slumming it in a little nowhere town. I was still hearing my mother and my step-dad describing each other’s inadequacies in bed. The earbud was still out.

it was easy. so very easy. no one even noticed.
looking at my country from the other side could be a start, no?
the next bus to New York was at 11.10 a.m. 
and I was on it. 


Fernweh (German)
feeling homesick for a place you have  never been to