A Foreigner in his own Country
A long, long time ago John had an idea, it would be great to see a little more of the world, than his backyard. He bought an airplane ticket and went to explore the world. On the other side of the pond, he felt lost at first. Although he had successfully graduated from English, he didn’t understand a single word. He was happy that the taxi driver at the airport spoke Russian. But he adapted fast and started to really enjoy all that was new and unfamiliar. He quickly got used to people smiling everywhere he went. He met a lot of interesting people of many different skin tones and he realized, that even some at first very strange customs and rules made sense.
A few years later after he has returned to his native country, he was in shock. Things suddenly became gray and strange. Dirty streets, people usually grim. But he had already figured out that the happiness of a man is not based on a place where he lives or the possessions he owns, but what he makes out of what happens in his life. He had learned to close his eyes. Only occasionally he recalled, that the world might be more colorful. He tried to talk about it, but usually, nobody understood him. He got used to it. He only felt sad about it from time to time.
However, then he started to dream more and more often about hitting the road again. And then, ten years later it finally came to him. He had actually never returned! He did not belong here anymore! And he felt like crying or like running to the nearest deserted cliff and shouting at the top of his lungs. But even the closest reef was too far. So he started to write …
This is one of the stories from my little project called “Curious John”, which I like to think of as “The Book Which I Might Never Publish”.