I have three ‘home’ countries: Reunion Island where I was born, Holland where I was raised and finally Mauritius, my home for the last 6 years.
It has been 15 years that I left Holland and as the years passed by, I noticed that I felt more and more detached from it. Kind of funny, considering it has been my home for 34 years and has therefore inevitably left its mark on me. But it had gotten to a point that it just felt like one of the countries I used to live in. The few times I traveled to Holland have been ‘to visit my sisters’. I rarely say, if ever, ‘I am going home’.
Last year when discussing with my sisters the upcoming 75th birthday of our mum in January, we decided to reunite as a family in Holland to celebrate this special milestone. We chose the month of May, spring time in Holland, to reduce the thermal shock traveling from the tropical islands to ‘ons kikkerlandje’ (our little frog country) as Holland is often fondly referred to. Ever since, it has all been about organising the birthday party, figuring out flights, accommodation, logistics etc.
It all changed when my partner announced in March he could join us. It will be his first visit to Holland and soon I started to make plans for the places to visit with him; places that have a special meaning to me. I started telling him about the village Sliedrecht I grew up in, the rivers, the cows in the field, the beauty of my ‘hometown’ Gorinchem, the pleasure of cycling through the polders and over the dykes …… about mythic Amsterdam, the remarkable architecture of Rotterdam, the orange craze, the vendor’s machines with food, oh did I tell you about the pancakes?, the roughness of the North Sea, the dunes…. the people, my family, my friends ….. And just like that, this quirky country had crept back into my heart. It suddenly hit me:
I AM going home!