to a certain limited extent i also miss “home”, except i’m not sure where that is though I am certain what it is. it’s having strong females around me who are unashamed in their flaunting of racial stereotypes; who eat nan with their hands and dance with their hips; who scream about spongebob squarepants and cry about tsunamis and lost boyfriends; who debate politics and pray love; who demand respect and respect independence; who speak pidgin and crochet; who guffaw, snort, chortle and exclaim when their fancies are tickled; who understand me without questions and question my understanding.
i miss men who make me chai, feed me glorious Algerian five course meals, take me salsa dancing, laugh at my quirks, ask me to Italian restaurants, show me strange scenes from even stranger films, conversate on recent events, send me silly text messages, invite me to barbecues, make me won tons fresh from the wok and bring home-cooked/ beautiful store bought delicacies to my parties.
for me, home is more about people than it is about a place. it’s more about memories, sights and sounds then brick and mortar. it’s more about looks, words, hugs, warmth, confusion, hugs, anger, sorrow, hugs, laughter, hope, tears, hugs, dreams, visions, prayer, mercy, hugs, grace, humanity.