Back at not-home

Oost west, thuis best.

East West, home is best.

Zoals het klokje thuis tikt, tikt het nergens.

Nowhere does the little clock tick, the way that it ticks at home.

Above one can read two famous Dutch sayings about home. But where is ‘home’? I have been pondering that question a lot over the past year. While Lund became more and more my home, Utrecht became so a little bit less, although it still feels like ‘my town’ whenever I  cross through it on a borrowed bike. Uithoorn is in some way the most of a home – after all my dear parents and brother live there – but as I have never lived there myself for longer than a few weeks, I don’t feel a real connection to the place.

Actually, it seems that home is always the place where I am not. Whenever I am in Lund, I refer to The Netherlands as home. In the same way, however, I have heard myself say quite a lot that I would be going ‘home’ – that is, back to Lund – on August 20^th.

As an unmistakable Calvinist, I could say that this is a sign that (wo)man is never satisfied and always wants the thing that she does not have.

As the psychologist, I could say that I am in an identity crisis.

As the postmodern twenty-somethinger, I could say that home obviously is there where the heart is.

Whatever it is, I’m back in Lund since 48 hours, which became not-home exactly at the moment that I arrived. 

I installed myself in new housing. (Pictures will follow.)
My bike was still at the place where I left it.
I helped welcoming the new students in my program. Some of them seemed as confused as I was last year.
I had Swedish conversations and already made the most interesting and stupid mistakes.
I visited Lundafalafel for the best falafel rolls in town.
In a bit, I will be at the Orientation market and convince the new internationals that they should come to our church.

It’s good to be back not-home.