Homesickness and Hospitality

My first semester abroad experience showed me homesickness and hospitality in a new way.

As a child, I never suffered from homesickness the way other kids did during week-long camps. I loved my parents and my family, but I adored the freedom that came with being a camper at summer camp. When other kids were sick with tears and missing their parents, I was delighted. Adventure! Friends! Campfires!

Homesickness? Pshh. I was more interested in the exciting things happening around me than what I was missing at home.

I knew home. Home was mundane, monotonous, and normal.

I first experienced homesickness in college, but it came quite a bit later than others. And it wasn’t home that I missed necessarily. I missed the hills of Pennsylvania blanketed in Autumn leaves. But I shook that feeling off quickly.

My first true and terrible bout of homesickness happened when I lived in the Dominican Republic for three months. The novelty hung on for a while, but after a while of not understanding the language or the culture, I was tired of being treated like a 3-year-old child. I wanted to go home.

I missed the boring things. And I missed the more complex things.

When I meet internationals in my home country, I feel like I relate to them. I know what it’s like to not understand a culture. I understand what it’s like to only be able to do one errand because 3-4 errands in this unfamiliar country is just exhausting. It’s hard.

So now, when I’m in my home culture, I like to make friends with people from all over the world. Not only do I love learning about other people’s homes, but I also want to provide some measure of comfort for those who don’t innately understand my beloved home culture with all its oddities.

With all friendships, it’s the simple things. Acknowledgement. Greeting. Friendliness. Willingness to listen. Being ready to help. Offering to do so. Grace for the weird cultural miscommunications.

What About You?

When have you been homesick? Did anyone make it easier for you?