Milano Malpensa Airport, June 30th 2012
I see green hills, red roofs, the railway line, high speed roads, cars, people. Landed.
I am pleased to notice that the average north-italian car keeps on being the same ; )
After 12 days of struggles against different cultural shocks. After having met people I used to know, friends I used to have, adults I used to listen to I am ready to face a white paper and write. I am ready to face things being exactly the same way I left them here 1 or 2 years ago.
I am trying to define my place. Where am I? Where is home? What is home?
I am redefining the space around me. Setting my books. Allocating memorabilia I got from Ethiopia. The place I used to call HOME for the past 12 months.
Everytime I am leaving or coming back I set all my shelves, disclosing old papers, images, pictures. I do it to get used to my reality, to remember who I was, why I left, who am I expected to be once back.
I found a diary, one of the year agenda I used to keep at school, posting on it tones of images. It has been volley, tickets of crazy saturday nights, pictures of me, friends, adventures, love, passions.
I found my thoughts. I found my reasons why to leave. I found questions. I found THE statement.
“If you can find an answer to all your questions, then you are not asking the right ones.”
The one I am looking at when I am told I am leaving just because I am afraid to stay. Just because I am escaping from my reality.
I tried to define what HOME to me. I feel it is the safe place, the safety door. Home is the place where many questions already have an answer.
I can change the questions, I can change the perspective from which they are asked. Or I can change the place I am to give an answer.