Not Homesick Anymore

Not homesick anymore? Not homesick.... why would I even be homesick in the first place?  Strange thought, even for me.  I was definitely not expecting to be homesick.  I travel all over, and I've been overseas for a month or more at a time.  I have earned my place as a seasoned traveler, never to be affected by travel woes.

Wrong.

Homesickness happens.  And it really stinks.  Please accept my sincerest apologies if you were ever homesick and I didn't show much sympathy.  I definitely didn't get it before.  Regardless of how prepared, how many times you've traveled before, how exotic and far flung your travel has been, there is nothing comparable between going on a trip for a month (or two, or three) and being gone for a year or more.   You probably knew that already.  Somehow, I didn't have any idea that it would be different. I haven't even gone anywhere that crazy.  I'm not in danger where I live, I speak the same language at home as I do in my new country, and I usually know what food I am buying before I buy it.  Life works pretty much the same way here as it does at home.  So why be homesick?

Oh right.  All my friends and family are at home.  It really all boils down to that.  I do miss various physical things, like my cute little apartment in the States, or my car (I still expect to go home and see it sitting there even though I sold it), the church I attend and got married in, the beach, the mountains...  But more than the physical things I miss my upstairs neighbors, all the friends and family I drove to see, the people that I attend church with, and the friends and family I have gone adventuring with.

Its all about the people.  So, no surprise that homesickness would begin to abate once I started connecting with people here.  Friends in my hall, friends at church, friends I met at various international student events (I'm the international! WEIRD!), friends I go running with, friends I watch movies with, friends I drink tea and talk for 5 hours with, friends I go grocery shopping with....

So.  I'm not homesick anymore.  I'm happy to say it, because it means I can enjoy the history and culture of England without the burning desire to hop aboard the nearest plane, boat, bus, submarine, sea turtle or snail that looks like it might be headed west.

If you haven't heard much from me in the last two months, I think you can safely assume that I was rather homesick.  And it made me feel rather antisocial, especially for those that I care the most about.  So please forgive me, and just know that you
are incredibly missed.  See you in 10 months!

PS.  Sam's not homesick anymore either

Woods -5 Sam and Kaitlin - 0

            The first time we found the trails in the woods we intended just a short walk of about a half an hour.  We entered the woods and found that the woods in Durham are not like the woods at home.  Here there is very little undergrowth, and unmarked, unofficial, well-traveled trails crisscross the main trail regularly.  With a thick carpet of newly fallen leaves, the path of the main trail becomes more difficult to determine.  Not only that, but there are points where one is forced off the main path by layers of thick muck.  Additionally, the signs provided along the trail very helpfully have forgotten to tell you where on the map you are.  Adding all these conditions together, you get one very confusing wood.

The first "half hour" walk took an hour longer than intended.  We got in the woods, quickly got confused by above mentioned conditions, and when we exited the woods we found that we had nearly walked to Shincliffe (a neighboring village).  We turned toward the assumed appropriate direction, wandering along rather lost (and discovered along the way that bus stops are equally unhelpful in finding your way) and finally came out near the Bill Bryson Library, which is north of our home at Ustinov College (we had started our walk to the south of our home).

Next time, we went for 15 minute run, again got lost, and somehow ended up walking through a farmer's very large (and fenced) field in the dark (still don't know how we ended up there).  When we got out of the field we had gone quite a bit further south, and though we knew the way home, we were rather "hangry" by the time we arrived back at the start. The following times followed roughly the same pattern.  Look out the window, decide it's a decent day for walking, forget previous lost times in woods, enter woods, exit much later and in a totally different spot than expected, eventually find way home, devour everything in fridge.  Repeat.

This last time, however, we followed a slightly different pattern.  Looking for a homework break, Sam suggested a walk through the Botanic Garden.  Great idea!  We both love the plants and birds found in the garden  (see previous post). We merrily walked along, snapping pictures as we went, when we discovered a wooded area of the Garden.  No problem.  The whole of the Botanic Garden is fenced (therefore ostensibly impossible to get lost in).  We found a fenced corridor of wood and followed the path to a gate.  Gates are not uncommon in the Garden, so we walked right on through.  On the other side of this gate we found a herd of 20 ..... Goats?  Sheep?   Not sure what they were, but they each had four horns, shaggy brown hair and completely ignored our presence so we moved on.

About this time I recalled a story my mom tells about her Grandma Wright.  Grandma Wright lived in a little house across a field from my mom and her parents.  As any good Grandma would, she visited often.  The official route between the two houses went as follows.  Exit house, walk down long driveway, walk along road, walk up long driveway, enter house.  Probably at least a 1/2 mile walk.  Grandmas have no time for such things when there are grandchildren to spoil NOW!  So of course everyday she cut through the field that separated the two houses.  In the field lived a big bad goat with rather large impressive horns, and everyday the family warned Grandma that the goat would charge her.  Taking no heed to their warnings she continued along her well beaten path between the two houses.  One day however, the big bad goat did charge.  Spotting him coming, quick footed and quick thinking Grandma Wright stepped behind a large stump, and flipped her apron over the stump (thereby making the stump look like her).  The goat whomped the stump hard, stumbled about, looked at her with confusion and wandered away, never to mess with Grandma again.

But to return to England.  As we've almost reached the other side of the field, we spot a rather proud looking rooster.  Seeing us, he gives a little cock-a-doodle.  Sam looks over his shoulder at me to make some comment about the rooster when his face suddenly registers concern and terror, and he points behind me.  I whip around to spot 80 pointy looking horns cresting over the hill and headed for us at an alarmingly rapid rate.  We flee, fumble with the gate (which is wired shut) then decide to awkwardly attempt to hop the barbed gate.  Somehow we made it over in one piece.  Hearts thumping, goatsheepmonsters bleating angrily, rooster cock-a-doodling.... we realize after about 10 minutes (and talking to the farmer that appeared just moments after) that the goatsheepmonsters probably had no intention of goring us, but actually thought we were about to feed them.  We walked away laughing, but soon realized that we were again lost in the woods outside the Botanic Garden, and this episode ended as all the others have--raiding the fridge after a longer and more eventful than intended walk through the woods.

Rawr!

We are angry goatsheepmonsters!

Creation at its finest

Click on the picture to enlarge

Just down the road from our apartment is a strange looking metal gate.  We didn't know exactly what it was when we first arrived, and our initial investigation of the gate resulted in a strange and menacing sounding beeping noise.  We hurried away.  After we established that it was actually a botanic garden affiliated with Durham University, we hurried back to see what lay beyond the gate.

When we first made our way through the garden, I have to admit, I wasn't too impressed.  "These are pretty boring trees.... looks just like home".  That would be because I was in the North American arboretum, which of course I didn't realize at the time.  As soon as we got past all the "boring" maples, pines, and spruce trees, we hit the Brazilian, African, tropical, and desert sections of the garden and understood what a gem we had found.

(FYI.  None of these pictures have been altered from their original form.  The garden doesn't need any help being beautiful)

These guys made me miss my own goldfishies, still in Oregon

These birds weren't actually in the garden,
but I can't help but group them in 

Seagull?

These leaves were about three feet across

Pheasant