Home again

Close to midnight, and the engines roared as we gently lifted off. The sprawl of lights and cities below dimmed as the plane banked and headed out into the darkness of the Taiwan Straits. A 16 hour flight ahead, but for the first time in over a decade, I was not flying alone on a journey that I like to call "leaving home to go home". And there is a marked difference, as I was not overcome with sadness, but felt comforted that mum sat next to me (...even though she slept most of the time!)

First to Bangkok, we flew, and after a short stop, diagonally across continental Asia onto the Europe continent. Over Irrawaddy Delta, the plane shook and jarred violently over a long stretch of turbulent air. Into the darkness of the night I peeked, and imagined the unimginable destruction and death in the land below. But eventually we flew safely over all that, and left it all behind.


Mum is very much excited about coming to Europe with me, and I am glad that I could somehow make this trip possible. After all those intensive treatments and restless days not being able to eat much and not feeling herself, she deserves a good rest. I slept somewhat on the plane, exhausted from the last few days in Taiwan which have gone by quickly and eventfully. First a long trip south to visit friends and family, then returning to Taipei, I made a trip to go see my dad, and bid him farewell. Even hours before my flight, I was still running around buying things to fill my suitcase.

As morning dawned, and as I enjoyed my sumptuous breakfast over Europe, the clouds thinly revealed the forests and towns below. As we slowly approached Amsterdam, I could see familiar sights of polders, low-lands, wind-powered windmills and reclaimed islands. A sense of 'home-liness' came over me, and I felt emotional that after a month or so I am again returning to my second home.

My brother was kind enough to take a few hours off of work to pick us up and drive us home. The land has not much changed, though the trees and fields are now much greener compared to when I left in early May.

After a short rest, we went out to the city centre, and did some small food shopping. Amid the crowd, I felt somewhat lost for some reason... I could understand what people were saying around me, I could see the buildings and places that I have been before, but then I felt it seemed to be so long ago when I last was here. Where did this sense of alienation come from? Why did I feel like such a tourist in my own town? Maybe this is the jetlag talking.

Home again...