Oregon, Los Angeles, Home, and Life

Hello, friends.  Melanie here.  At long last I'm going to tell you something about my life up here, but I'm going to wrap it in a host of rambling reflections.

I'm going home for Thanksgiving.  Los Angeles home, a.k.a. The House on Lakme Avenue.  And I am glad, so glad.  I can't wait to see as many of my old friends as I can pull off.  Family for Thanksgiving, church friends on Sunday morning, high school friends to celebrate the wedding of one of my best friends from high school on Sunday evening, and college friends, well, if your schedules allow.

I miss Los Angeles.  The only thing missing is snow actively falling out here and bridges spreading across a bay down there for the words of the Sixpence None the Richer song "A Million Parachutes" to be entirely appropriate:

I miss the warmth
I miss the sun
I miss the ocean
I miss everyone
I miss the bridges
That spread across the bay
Tonight
It seems like ages ago.

But you know what?  I'm happy up here.  Happy in an abiding sense, because I'm sure this is where I'm supposed to be.  Happy in a circumstantial sense, because I have a job I enjoy and am meeting people I'm loving getting to know.  And I can practically feel the growing pains as I become a heck of a lot more... grown-up... in this process.  Less afraid.  More sure of what it is that really matters.

And yes, happy because I love this crazy northern place.

I miss Los Angeles.  I love Oregon.  Los Angeles is and always will be home.  Oregon is becoming home too.  Just as the House on Lakme Ave. was home, and then Biola became home too.  Going home to Lakme was hard sometimes after that.  I had eyes to see things I'd never seen before.  I missed so many things about my Biola home when I was not there.  I was glad to see my family, but gladder to see, well, you, my Franciscans, and sorrier to leave you behind for a weekend than I was glad to see my family for a weekend.  It took time - I always wanted to be home for the weekend freshman year if I possibly could, as I recall.  But it happened.

I don't think we ever lose a home.  We pick up new ones.  Then the old ones suddenly fit a little strangely when we see them again.  But they're still home.

The first sort-of-extra-home I picked up was the Dominican Republic.  It was just two two-week trips, but it made a huge impact, because I fell in love and I learned a completely different way of life.  I still miss it.  I don't think it's likely I'll go back to that jewel of the Caribbean, but that doesn't change the fact that I went there and it became almost home.  Almost.  I was still a foreigner, una extranjera, una americana, even if I did sing along with them, Mi tierra dominicana sabor a Cristo te voy a dar, even if I did take siesta, even if I did eat pollo, arroz, y habichuelas, even if I did learn a lot about their culture, even if I did make friends, even if I did fall in love with their green land, green so bright it hurts the eyes, warm and rainy, warm and welcoming.  I didn't belong there, not really; I always knew that.  But when I went back to Los Angeles, suddenly I almost hated it.  It seemed so cold, so unwelcoming, so brown and ugly, so self-absorbed, so inhospitable.  They warned us about the reverse culture shock, but it hit me hard through all the warnings.  I felt a lack of belonging anywhere; I wanted to return to the green jewel of the Caribbean.  I entered my LA hatred stage.  During that time I think I would happily have left it for just about anywhere... if I were grown and could choose to do so and had put behind my fears and insecurities about striking out on my own... none of which were true.

I'm not sure how exactly I came out of that stage.  All I know is that I began to look for the things to love about LA.  And I learned to catalog and observe the things I already loved so much it makes my heart ache, things I had been taking for granted.  Swinging under the jacaranda tree on a warm May day with the flowers falling all around me.  Breezes from the sea.  People everywhere going about their lives.  More opportunities for concerts and other forms of culture than anyone could possibly take advantage of.  Trees all over.  Warmth and sun and occasional pelting rain.  And yes, a great number of trusted, valued friends.  People at church and at school and at home who loved me and knew me.

It was more noticing consciously that I already loved LA unconsciously than anything else.  And then I noticed it very thoroughly.  There was no way I was going outside LA for school.  Even as I was graduating from USC, I had no intention of leaving LA.  A couple job possibilities would have required it, but, well, that was way too huge a minus for me to think it likely I would make such a choice.  Aren't friends and family more important, after all?  Then, Intel.  Perfectly what I was looking for, jobwise, and near my brother Robert.  Too many things lined up.  That's another post and a half.  Anyway, here I am.  My point is, even in the throes of a certain home-hatred it was my home; even across the years the Dominican Republic brings tears of love to my eyes; the restlessness stemmed from two homes, and longing for the other home meant that I was never quite at home.

Biola was home to me too.  I love it with all my heart to this day.  Sitting by the fountain or visiting the circuits lab feels like going home.  Talking to Franciscans is like talking to family.  No, Biola was better than home to me.  There I grew up so much.  There I learned so much.  There I made relationships and balanced my life.  Everything revolved around that campus for me.

And I went home, and I went to USC, and the homesickness for Biola almost destroyed me.  It didn't, but it almost did.  Meanwhile, sometimes at Biola homesickness for Lakme could come near to destroying me.  Not so much, but there was a time or two.  My two real homes, Biola and Lakme, were so different.

I've learned since then.  Comparisons can be poisonous, but they don't have to be.  It's not disloyalty to acknowledge things you love about a new place.  It's okay to be homesick, but don't let that make you overlook the home you have where you are.

I have a home up here in Hillsboro, and I love it.

The atmosphere is entirely different from Lakme or Biola.  No, not entirely.  But vastly different.  The friends are different, the church is different, living on my own is different.  Working is different than going to school.

But both are good.

I'm going home for Thanksgiving and for Christmas and I expect to love it.  I will be on guard against reverse culture shock and will do my best to enjoy myself without judgments on what I now know it is not, or at least without letting those judgments dominate my vision.  What will it be to breathe smog after getting used to this clear air?  It never mattered to me before, but now... it might.  There are so many things like that.

And now, I'm finally getting to the life update.

Work, errands, and special events take up a huge amount of my time, it turns out.  Much of the rest is taken up with communication.  I've been on Facebook a lot and I've called you guys or other friends and family a lot.  Sarita-chan far more than anyone, of course.  I've missed you.

Special events.  I really have joined a community up here.  Lots of weekend hiking trips, English country dance class, a concert with the Fellowship of the Ring music played live, one memorable four-day camping trip, a dinner party at a new friend's house, a movie night at another new friend's house, a ball yesterday, other miscellaneous adventures... they have been keeping life exciting.  All these people I got to know through my brother Robert and his new bride Laura and their community, but it quickly spread out from there.  They are my friends now, not merely my brother's, and I make it to many events he does not attend without feeling lonely or like I don't belong.  When I live alone it has the effect of making me always feel extraverted when I do see other people, so I have been quite vigorously participating in everything I can manage!

Work.  There was and is a steep learning curve, and sometimes I still feel lost, but it's fun.  It's something I'm well suited to, and it's well suited to me.  I could write little anecdotes for a good long time.  Perhaps work shall be another dedicated post.  Let's just say that sometimes I tire, and sometimes it gets tedious or boring, but, well, I really do get to solve logic puzzles all day for fun and profit, and that's marvelous.

Errands.  They take longer than I would have dreamed, given how much I was already doing during my last year at Lakme.  Mostly it's just that they have to be done at the end of a full day; you can't work them in to the middle of schoolwork for a nice break or any such thing; it's just an extension of the work day.  And there are more of them.  There are so many things I have to remind myself of.  Pay rent, check mail, pay other bills, insurance, groceries, and don't you forget the shampoo.  Add in things for the home, and the fact that everything's my responsibility, even on days when I feel exhausted or sick, and my spare energy and time flies away pretty fast.

But I feel so blessed.

Church.  Everyone is so welcoming.  I'm singing in a choir.  It's not a highly professional choir, nor is it a choir which sings my favorite types of music.  But it's a choir, and it's a huge blessing to me.  One of the people I met through my brother Robert and the miscellaneous activities I've been doing invited me to the church when I posted on Facebook that I was looking for a good one; he also invited me to a Bible study at his house.  At the Bible study, well, I've been reminded in so many different ways what a blessing the body of Christ is.  Great conversation.  Comfort and sympathy and practical goodness.  When they found out I was looking to take public transit to the airport very early Thanksgiving morning, two of the women insisted that no, they absolutely will get to my place at 4:45 to drive me over to the airport.  (Then they haggled over which one actually would do it, since I don't need two rides.)  Etc., etc.  I've stayed past midnight most times talking.  And I made a new good friend.  You would all like her very much.  She's got the same sort of insane most of us do - she's a nursing student who also has been taking Latin and Greek and reading lots of ancient stuff and singing in choir and playing in orchestra and the like.  She's also just been diagnosed with Crohn's disease and is juggling surgeries throughout her senior year, including one tomorrow, er, technically today... anyway, it's been great to get to know her.

And I'm growing, I'm growing so much.  Living on your own is great for that.  And I'm learning, I'm learning so much.

The color palette, the seasons, the traffic or lack thereof, the hustle and bustle or lack thereof, so many harder-to-define things make this not Los Angeles.  But it's becoming a home I love.

I am thrilled to be going home to Los Angeles.  But I will also be thrilled to come home to Hillsboro once again.