I struggle with the idea of “home.” This is an idea I have wrestled with and pondered before I applied to JVC and while I was a student at Spring Hill. What is home? People here in Chile have asked me if I plan to return home once I complete my two years of volunteer work. I respond by saying I still have a year to figure out the future, but I also say I do not have a home. Not to sound mean or callous, or to have people think I am homeless, but technically I do not have a home (in the States).
Truth be told the home I once knew as a child no longer exists. The home once belonging to me is still the home of my parents and my younger sister, but it is not mine. During winter and summer breaks as a student I would return “home,” but with each visit, I felt more like a stranger. Things would be different and why would they not be different? I cannot expect time to stop and things to remain the same when I am away. What used to be my room became a guest room. What used to be my dresser became my sister’s and my father completely renovated the yard and planted his garden.
So, what is home? Those who know me know I love music (There is a point to this digression so bear with my train of thought and writing process). Music lets me know I am not alone in my feelings and lets me know whatever I am going through (be it good or bad), someone else has experienced it. There are a number of songs I have identified with since being in Santiago. Two songs touching on the question of home for me are The National’s “Bloodbuzz Ohio” and Death Cab for Cutie’s “You Are a Tourist.”
“Bloodbuzz Ohio” deals with the singer’s experience of returning “home” after a period of time. There is a line he sings, “I was carried to Ohio in swarm of bees, I never married, but Ohio don't remember me.” So much changed since he left Ohio. It was neither the same place he knew nor was he the same person. Both my parents’ home and Chicago are not the places I knew as a child and as I grow as an adult and gain more experience and knowledge, the more foreign each concept becomes. In “You Are A Tourist” there is a verse in the song that goes:
“And if you feel just like a tourist in the city
where you were born then it's time to go
and if you find your destination
there’s so many different places to call home ...”
The explanation is as followed. As I am beginning to discern the next chapter of my life, the answer to this ever-existential question I discovered is home is wherever I am presently and with the people I am with. Home has been so many different places. Home has been the house of my parents. Home has been Chicago. Home has been Spring Hill College. Home has been Nicaragua, Italy, the Dominican Republic, El Salvador, and now Chile. Home is now the JV house I share with my community.
Home is now the place where I share old memories and create new ones. The idea of home will change again when I finish my time here. This home will no longer be mine, but it will still remain the JV house and the home of Emily and Carlos and will become the home of future volunteers who continue to come to serve the Chilean people. I currently may not have a home waiting for me in the States, but home will be wherever I decide to begin my next chapter.
