Distance, homesickness and unfamiliarity are some of the words that can exist in the vocabulary of U.Va. students, especially during first year. For an international student like myself, these words are even more relevant.
Many of my in-state friends at U.Va. are able to go home many times before I do even once. On those occasions, I always end up living vicariously through them. When one friend went home to surprise his grandmother, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling, trying to imagine how happy she must’ve felt seeing her grandson walk through the door after months of being away. It’s moments like these when I start to feel pangs of jealousy.
My journey home turns into quite a production, far from a quiet car ride home. The entire spectacle usually starts with a frenzy of packing and a struggle to get to the airport on time. Once I have myself in order, the next step is to prepare for the two-leg plane ride home, roughly 20 hours of minimal leg room and an achy neck from sleeping upright. As time passes and my travel time ticks away to 10 hours, then two, I start to feel antsy and excited. There is always a feeling of nervousness, wondering how I will look to my parents, my sister and brother, what stories I will tell them or whether or not they will like the small presents I bought for them.
All of that is pushed to the back of my head the moment I walk through the doors of the airport and see the wide smiles on my parents’ faces. In a frenzy, they crush me into hugs, squeeze my face and tell me how skinny I’ve become. Eventually, we pile into the car to drive home. The excitement inside bubbles up again as I finally approach the place I’d been away from for so long. I mentally recall the layout of my house, the placement of the couch and television, which step on the staircase was the creaky one and where my mom usually stashed the junk food.
The first thing that always hits me when I walk into my house is the smell. Every house I’ve visited — be it a friend’s or a family member’s — has its own distinct smell. Needless to say, my home’s smell is the most comforting to me — a combination of laundry detergent and whatever cooking my mother has done for the day.
After the initial processing, my eyes start to wander and notice the small changes made, like a new mask added to my mother’s collection that hangs on the wall or a recent picture framed and placed on the coffee table. Before I can start asking questions about everything I had missed while being away, my mother smiles and coaxes me to eat something. It doesn’t take much convincing and soon enough, I’m sitting at the dining table at four a.m., chowing away at the previous day’s leftovers and trying to cram everything that had happened in the past six months in one long train of thought. My parents demand that I relax but after realizing the futility of it, they excitedly sit down and ask me about my semester, what I have done, what I have felt and thought.
My mother gets up in the middle to replenish my plate, insisting that I finish whatever was left before continuing the conversation. The three of us would stay up and talk and exchange stories well into the beginnings of the day before I’m finally convinced to go sleep in my own bed. I still feel as though I’m in a trance and have a hard time comprehending the fact that I’m not curled up in my dorm room anymore. Too exhausted give it much thought, I decide to deal with my confusion in the morning and drift off to sleep.
When I wake up with a start, I can hear someone bustling around in the room. Though my eyes are mere slits trying to shield out the dim light, I recognize my roommate’s silhouette. Realization hits me causing my eyelids to snap open — I’ve been dreaming, and am still in my dorm room on Grounds. A sense of disappointment and exasperation floods through me. I unlock my phone and stare at the date, noting that it will be roughly two more months until my dream actually becomes a reality. Until then, replaying these memories in my head is enough to keep my longing for home at bay.
Read More
Days on the Lawn gives newly admitted Class of 2028 a taste of Grounds
By Miriella Jiffar and Mia Tan | 2 days agoThe annual spring program invites newly admitted students and their families to experience information sessions, resource fairs and tours around Grounds.
The weight of saying “I love you”
By Mai Hukuoka | 4 days agoWhile grand gestures can't fully describe the weight of love, that doesn't mean love has to be small. Love can, and should, feel heavy.
Cooking, my mother’s love language
By Emilie Kim | 6 days agoDespite our different temperaments, my mother and I understand each other perfectly through the language of food.
