So I have just finished my assignment on cultural safety and it has brought to the surface many emotions I have been feeling regarding being homesick. I have read for example, that it is completely normal to feel depressed, isolated, angry, resentful, withdrawn and irrational following the culture shock of migration and I completely agree, I have felt and still feel all of these emotions.
Often in conversation with new people I have been asked “how long have I been here, do I like it, do I plan to stay?” My polite English side cringes as my more dominant Yorkshire “call a spade a shovel” side replies “too long, no and no”. This usually gets the backs up of the patriotic Australians. The thing they don’t get however, is that homesickness is not about where you are, it’s about where you are not. If Australia was the greatest country on Earth I would still miss home, miss my family, miss the rain, miss the history, miss the culture (with a big and little c) miss hearing other Yorkshire accents, miss the food, miss not having to try so hard all the time, miss being accepted as just me and not “the whinging pom”, miss just being in Yorkshire. I can’t help it, I can’t switch it off and I can’t pretend that I feel otherwise.
So there you have it, what started out as an exciting adventure has become a prison sentence, I feel trapped and lonely and desperate and I only have myself to blame.
Thought I would share some memories of happier times.
Our last Christmas Day in Yorkshire
Fountains Abbey, North Yorkshire
By the way the best ice cream in the world can be found near Fountains Abbey a place called Brymore Ice cream, if you’re near there go in, my favourite is clotted cream flavour.
I need to knit now.