A beautiful sunset, waves crashing, and the cool Pacific breeze. From what my parents tell me, San Francisco was a breathtaking dream. Despite being born there, I was never able to experience that dream, as I was set to move to India when I was just a toddler.
In India, I grew up with just my grandparents for my first two years there. They gave me much more than what I could have ever asked for. Those two years built a great attachment for me with my grandparents. As those two years passed, I thought I was going back to San Francisco. Quite the opposite had happened, my mom and sister both moved to India. While I wished for me to move back with my family to California, I was stuck in India. Shortly after my family had moved back to India, India became my home, especially since I had no real memories of California as I was so young. School in India was great, apart from the constant notetaking and the brutal exams. The weather was great (maybe not as pleasant as California) and the community was great. I made great friends, did well at school, and even pursued many interests I had at that point in my life. I had found my place. Somewhere that I never wanted to leave in my lifetime.
One day, as the streetlights had turned on, marking my cue to get back home from the hours of playing badminton with my friends. As I step into the house, I see my mom prancing around the living room. She looks at me either anxiously or eagerly. I took the clue that she was about to reveal something to me, some sort of big news. She revealed it with great excitement, “We are moving to Canada!” For a brief moment, I matched her excitement, hugging her with great happiness. Apart from my happiness lay other emotions. Just as I was about to sleep for the night, it dawned on me that moving to Canada would mean I had to leave my entire life I built for 9 years in India. My friends, cousins, school, and most importantly, my grandparents.
We packed as much as we wanted to take to Canada, said our goodbyes to everyone, and boarded the plane. The 14-hour plane ride gave me some time to think. I questioned everything I possibly could about living my life in Canada; what are the schools like? What are the people like? Will I make good friends? The question that lingered in my head for the longest was, will I be able to call this place home? Many people associate “home” with words like “comfort”, “safe” and “solace”; I was one of these people. I wondered if this meaning would change because of the completely new environment that I was going to be living in.
Tray tables are stowed away, seatbelts on, and window blinds open. I look outside to gloomy skies and a boring landscape. My first impression of Canada was not off to a great start. As we grab our bags and head out, a fresh breeze of cold air hits my face, and I am not amused. We stay in an apartment until the house is ready for us to move into. As we got settled in Canada, I started to notice a routine and even a sense of belonging. Although the schooling system wasn’t the greatest, I met some great people who I still call friends. I began acknowledging this place as home.
My junior high was filled with amazing memories. Eighth grade came with a shock, maybe numerous shocks. As I started preparing information regarding the high schools that would be beneficial for me, we all got an email. Spring break had been extended by two weeks (surprise number 1). I rejoiced, thinking about the two weeks more that I got to spend with my friends. This “break” was made permanent, where our school was completely remote (surprise number 2). Following this, I came back home one day from playing with my friends to my parents looking at me the same way they did when I was told about moving to Canada. I joked, “Are we moving to another country?” They replied with, “How did you know?” (surprise number 3).
This time, we were moving to America, my birthplace. To my disappointment, it wasn’t the dream of a place, California, it was Illinois.
While I was still disheartened about leaving my home in Canada after 3 short-lived years, I was relatively excited to mark yet another adventure in my life. I realized that my idea of “home” wasn’t the people that existed by me, the weather, the physical home, or even the way of living in said place. It was rather the people that I associated home with, which were my parents and sister.
As I settled into my life in Naperville, I found the meaning of belonging, I found my home.
Hey Adi,
After reading your blog, I couldn’t help but try and imagine what moving must be like. I’ve lived in Illinois for all my life (albeit different parts), but it certainly must have been interesting living in India and Canada.
Have a great day!
Andy T
Adi,
Intriguing narrative about the question of where would you consider “home”. Illinois, Canada, or India?
As an immigrant myself, I sometimes ask myself the same question: where exactly do I belong? Am I going to root here? Go back to China? Or start somewhere else? This question gets especially tough when you consider the future: you’re a zeroth or first generation, and, say, you were to stay here, will you marry someone of a different race? Are you and your family okay that your pure Indian bloodline ends where you are? They are definitely tough and deep questions, and they will probably take the wisdom of our future selves to answer.
One rule of thumb that my father likes to use in defining “home” would be: where do you most frequently dream about? That place should be where you subconsciously consider home. Personally, I dream very often about my house in China and the bike and street foods there that I could no longer enjoy now.
What about you?
Frank
Hey Adi, you’ve had a truly interesting experience with moving countries and I couldn’t imagine what that’s like. I’ve lived in the same Naperville house for as long as I can remember and cannot imagine what it’s like to have your life uprooted like that multiple times. But, your attitude towards the situation is definitely admirable, and I think it’s a useful skill to be able to settle into a new environment so seamlessly. College will be my first real experience with moving and I am both nervous and excited. I think what you are saying is right though, changing locations doesn’t change your home. I still keep in contact with some of my friends across the country that have left for college or moved away. I hope that you can find/have been enjoying your home here in Illinois. Even as you go to college, I’m sure it’ll still be here for you.