When you get homesick...

The question I get asked often is “do you ever get homesick?”

To be honest, the answer is actually no.  I don’t get homesick, I don’t long for Johannesburg or Africa at all.

But I miss home anyway. 

So what is it exactly that I miss?  It’s hard to describe really, and what I feel has been called homesickness I suppose but I don’t think that I’m really pining for the city I left behind.  What I miss is familiarity. Quirky traditions and behaviours that I know and understand. A collective understanding that makes you feel like you belong in a place.  Like you've always been there.

I miss knowing every brand, and which ones I prefer in the supermarket.  When you first arrive it takes hours to do your shopping because you are browsing so much, and then it takes weeks to work out which washing soap you like the most because you have to try them all.  It’s tedious and makes you feel a bit like an oaf.  I miss knowing the chains – reading on a local FB community post about a new retailer coming into town, I had to look up at least 3 of the names mentioned because I still don’t know what they are and what they offer.

I miss accents I can understand – all eleven-ty of them. I also miss people who can understand me.  Man I miss using our slang words mixed into my everyday speech, I can never properly explain it.  I also want to just speak like I always did instead of actively thinking of an English equivalent to replace the slang I instinctively want to use.  Some English words just don’t say the same thing.  Jol, mos, sommer, lekker, sukkel – and probably another 30 that I haven’t included.  I miss that.

I miss knowing my way around, even in Cape Town or Durban which I only visit every few years, I can still figure out where I am and where I want to go and I never feel completely foreign.  Satnav is wonderful but when you are driving in a city for the very first time, even Satnav can’t help calm the panic of missing a turn or not actually knowing which bloody exit to take from the roundabout which has at least 6.

I miss the bird life (yes, I miss the loeries so much, but maybe not the hadedas). The birds here are lovely and chatty – but they aren’t the same.  As much as I love the birdsong we hear in the UK, it’s just not what I grew up with.  The torries – that sound along with the loeries – couldn’t be more African and I miss that.

I miss the storms.  The weather that lets you know exactly what its planning.  Tall thunderheads coming towards you from the horizon, as the breeze whips up.  Looking at the clouds, you’ll know what’s coming – either it’s a settling rain which will last overnight or even a day or two, or it’s a short shower, or it’s an electrical thunderstorm sent to rattle your windows and crash against your eardrums, or maybe its hail. Real hail I mean, not the cute little sprinkles that pass for hail in the UK.  Either way, you’ll know what the weather is thinking, there’s no need to discuss it or check an app.

And I’m lonely.  I spent over 40 years building up friendships and finding my tribe.  The people who know me best, who understand me, who share my memories, who share my views/values/opinions.  I miss that, and them, so much.

Of course, the list is much longer than this - it's the doctor who knows your full medical history and greets you by name...and all your kids.  It's your domestic helper who's been in your family for years.  It's China mall, West Pack and Builder's Warehouse.  All of it.

Perhaps that is what homesickness is, perhaps it’s just missing what you know and remember.  Or maybe it’s more because some people head home after many years of living away.  Who knows, but for today, just this week, I’ve been really missing the familiarity of home.