If We Had Travel Machines

The world would be a better place if we had travel machines to allow us to get anywhere in no more than 20 minutes. Wouldn’t it be cool if we could walk into booth, dial the code of the place you wanted to be at and arrive there in less time than it takes you to eat a gelato? I know it would be especially beneficial for those of us who live in a foreign country but miss much of their home land (and the people who we have left there).

This first week that I’ve spent at my parents’ house watching them play and giggle with my baby, reconnecting with my friends from here, and introducing my girl to MY world has been one of the happiest for me this year. I can’t explain how I feel when I see my best friends holding my baby and the look in my grandparents eyes when they saw her for the first time six months after she was born. It fills my heart with something greater than happiness and makes me wonder what can I do to keep this feeling even when I get on the plane to go back to my husband and the other part of my life.

If I could only have these chunks of my life and at the same time live abroad with my husband… It gets difficult to divide the heart in so many compartments, many of which only get filled when I am able to come home and see the people who have the key to them. This past week has been one to refill many of those compartments and that makes me feel complete.

I enjoy being home not only because I get to see many friends with whom I only share news on Facebook but because it is so much easier to navigate this world as a new mom as well. Here I don’t feel lonely, not even when I go on my daily walks with the stroller. People always greet us as we pass them by and having grown up here, I seem to find people I know even at the parking lots. It feels great to be known, to always have something to talk about even at the line in the supermarket, to encounter friendly faces from the past that get excited when they meet my baby, to never have my name mispronounced.

It would be perfect to wake up at my house next to my husband every day, get into the booth in the middle of the morning to pay a visit to the past, and get back on time to make dinner and continue my foreign life. My baby would grow up tasting the different flavors of the water in the US and the one in my home country, relating to people here, at daddy’s country and the one in which she was born. It would make long-distance relationships easier, it would allow for the compartments of my heart to always be full.

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