I’ve just returned home from a 7 month stint in the UK and I realise that I’ve been wrapped up like a tightly coiled spring. I didn’t notice when I was going full pelt with this project and that seminar, and my head was jumping between compartments. Neither did I seem to care; I was buzzing on it. I’d taken to sitting with a neck pillow at all times as I’d developed a spasm under my ear; stress probably. The only times I really missed home was when Murat would Facetime me from the village and the faces of my family would beam at me. My own face would then crumple and water would leak from my eyes.
My first night back it was village time, and that meant garlic bulgar, seasoned chicken, lots of catching up and baby squeezing. I was mortified to find Melisa had forgotten me!
This morning, I sat in Hasan Amca’s house eating breakfast and chatting, in between relishing the true taste of tomatoes; how could I have forgotten that? I wrapped home-made goat’s cheese in hot fresh bread from the village oven and I remembered so much that I’d forgotten.
This afternoon, I took my first swim in the pool. A leisurely 12 lengths. There is no spasm in my neck anymore and I feel floaty, contented and unrushed.
Now I sit here typing as the sun warms my feet. Birds and bees are singing to me and the washing machines spins a hypnotic melody in the background. When it’s finished, I can actually hang it outside and let the breeze waft its lavender scent my way. It will dry within twenty minutes.
I sometimes feel like I’m in the film sliding doors or worse still, the Aha video where the character bounces against the wall swapping between cartoon and real life. I can’t remember how it ends?
For now, I’m back in the arms of my adopted country, and oh how I love her!