Leaving Home To Home

Maisyarah (INA YES to USA YP 15–16)

There is an imperfect braid in my heart, and it is dangling. I do not know how to define it, I feel like I had this feeling before but I am not sure. No, I am not nervous. I am not scared either. I am excited but I am kind of not. You know, when you want and do not want something in the same time?

Everything started last summer, August 10th 2015. I chose to start a new life, pretty much by myself. I leave my family, friends, and memories. You can tell that I leave my home. I came to this state called South Dakota, it was a strange name for me. I did not know where it was. Then, google told me it is in the middle west of United States.

I meet new people, even live in the same roof with them. I go to school and socialize with these strangers. It is just crazy to think how these strangers unwittingly became my family. They do not just open their house for me, but also their heart. I was like a new born baby here, I did not know anything, but they keep teaching and helping me. They are very patient with my broken English and trying hard not to laugh when I pronounce something wrong. They bring me to a lot of places, respect my religion, support everything I do, and be my protectors.

Well, it is not just with the people, but the environment, the weather, the places, the streets, even the trees also become parts of my life. I am an equator girl, I live with the sun and the warm weather. I walk in the left side of the road and see green trees every day. But here, I have to adapt with cold weather, snow come up to my knees, a lot of snow storm, and chilly wind. I have to walk in the right side of the road and see the trees change its leaves color in every season. I am getting comfortable with them. With every single thing that is opposite with my home country. With every single thing that was new and strange. I have never count the days, it is just running every day. I am in love with my new life.

But then I realized, I am not going to be here forever. I have to go back to my country, where I belong to be. I have to leave this life. I have to leave these people I call family, friends, and memories. You can tell that I have to leave my home, again, to go back home. It is not easy, it is hard. You know, when you almost complete your new puzzle but you have to be ready to lose some parts of it?

I look back to the memories I made here. All of them are memorable. But there is one memory I will never forget in my life, it is probably the best part of my exchange year, it is Chicago trip. It is not because it is one of the biggest cities in America, but the feeling of became a part of a family in that trip was awesome. It was a trip for the exchange students in my state, we did not have chance to hang out a lot before because we live far from each other and we are busy with school events. But on that trip, we had time to know more each other. Ambassadors from every country be in one group, we were telling stories about our countries, exchange year, host families, host schools, friends, problems, and secrets. We have pretty much the same ideas, the same feelings, and the same stories about our exchange experience. We found people who understand. Without realizing it we made our own family. Our international family. I wish I had more than four days hanging out with them like that, I wish I had more than a year to make more memories, to spend more time with people in my new home.

For my new family, I am sorry if sometimes I am being so childish. I am sorry for making you guys busy –driving me to a lot of places, picking me up at night for some events, going to exchange students’ activities, and much more-. I am sorry for being busy with myself and not spending much time for you guys. Thank you for making my natural parents not to worry about me because you guys are taking care of me very well. Thank you for accepting me as part of the family and not treating me different. Thank you for always by my side and supporting me. Thank you for every single moment we have been spending together. Thank you for loving me. I love you.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.