Life in transition

And so we have arrived in the States.  The last days passed so quickly it wasn't even like we were on vacation and it certainly wasn't as though we still lived in Barbados.  Life was strange and surreal and transitory. Didier and I were talking last night and both have come to the same conclusion, though we are not sure why, Barbados seems like a dream, an hallucination.  I cannot say that I see our departure as freedom as we were not really trapped, but I have found myself coming to the surface for air as if I have been underwater for a long time.  We do not dream of our home in Barbados, do not pine even for the beaches.  Maybe we are in a state of shock.  Maybe the longing, the nostalgia, the warm and fuzzies will come later.  But for now, we are gone.  And yet we aren't really here either.

Living at my parents' home while we get our bearings, I feel like I am in a halfway house, debilitated by mental and emotional crises, unable to fully express myself, to feel, to cry, to scream.  There is anxiety and stress.  Sometimes I cannot really breathe.  Deep in my heart I know we are on the road to the next chapter in our lives, that it will enrich the experiences of this rag tag clan we have created, but in the real present moment, as I live and breathe, I am not so sure.  We are distracting ourselves and the girls with all the food and wine and fresh air we'd been denied for two years in Barbados.  We are on an all you can eat and drink that makes us feel like we are putting on a pound a day.  I know most people envision island living as full of fresh food, fruits, fish, vegetables.  But Barbados produces nothing but rum, a little sugar, and sunburnt English tourists.  Food was expensive and often what I'd craved wasn't even available.  Since our return we've eaten crab legs, French cheeses, good baguette (not made by my husband), cupcakes, ribs, gorgeous Polish sausages, homemade Mediterranean food from the fresh market, farm grown veggies that do not cost as much as first month's rent.  We've had champagne, wine, cordials, nuts, gelato, sushi at a reasonable price (and incredibly delicious), pretty much everything we can get our hands on.

Virginie, who appeared to be on the verge of asthmatic, is breathing easier.  The girls are having a great time with my parents and sister, as well as their older cousin, though they do find the water too cold.  We arrived half a week before Independence Day and though I have often enjoyed a barbecue and fireworks, afternoon beach or pool time with family or friends on many a 4th of July, this year was different.  Being here for this particular holiday felt like home, like a reminder of going down South to see my family as a kid, knowing that in my blood I am tied to this place, that my spirit is tethered, no matter where I go, to a place where my ancestors lived and died no matter how excluded, outside, marginalized we've been, this is the only place that is home. 

I never really considered what it meant to be an American until I found myself living abroad with very few Americans in the mix.  I spent much of my time with Barbadians, English, and a few Canadians.  I am always open to new perspectives, it is one of the true joys of life, but there is nothing like a common language, unwritten even, that I didn't know I had until I was alone.  A language that includes sitcom references, songs, TV shows, minor celebrities and other trainwrecks, a self depreciating  humor about how Americans see themselves and how the rest of the world sees us (and trust me, there are plenty of potshots).  I stepped outside of my comfort zone even though I'd always felt disconnected and uncomfortable while living in the States.  I was always sure that I belonged somewhere else.

When we leave Florida, we are heading to New Jersey, not to the town where I grew up, but JERSEY.  After a lifetime of believing I was a New Yorker first and foremost, of thinking I could shake the Jersey Girl, I realized that my children might not be and might need more space than we could provide in glorious Manhattan.  They are children of the world.  If we are lucky they will travel, visit friends and family all over the world, learn languages, open their hearts to the world.  For now, they will discover the United States, recognize the flag which right now just seems cool because it has so many stars, learn the holidays of this country, connect to their American roots, go down South, be with our relatives while we continue our adventures and strengthen our bond as a family.  I don't ever profess to know what is coming and I am wise enough not to even try to guess.  We had a choice, choose a life where transition was inevitable, new places, new adventures, new people, and let the world open to us or not.  This path is curvy, crazy cuckoo nuts, but it is ours and we are doing it together.





(c) Copyright 2011.  City Mom in the Jungle.