Every year at this time, even after (gasp) 16 years, I get homesick. For those of you who may not know I grew up in Madagascar. I spent about 10 years of my life there, and it is my birthplace. Although attempts have been made, I have not been back to the country since my family left in March of 1995.
During our time there we lived in both Antananarivo and Antsirabe. I was born in Antsirabe, where I nearly earned myself Norwegian citizenship because the local government office didn't believe that any Americans had ever been born in the city despite my parents both being American citizens. During my time in Madagascar I attended a French pre-school and kindergarten and a Norwegian school for fourth and fifth grade. My mom also attempted some home schooling (where I was a less than ideal student) and I spent a few years in school here in America.
I suppose it is a misnomer to say that I get homesick because I do feel very much at home now in my life here in the United States. However, living in America is much different than living in Madagascar, and sometimes I miss the routine and experiences I had living abroad as a child. I think growing up abroad, I became accustomed to a certain level of constant homesickness. I always remark that when we lived in Madagascar I would long to be with our family in America and when we would return to America I would long for my "family" in Madagascar. I grew up acutely aware that I was straddling two very different cultures. In some ways I was connected to both worlds and in other ways I was not connected to either.
Perhaps, it is the isolation of a Minnesota winter that makes me miss the comfort of community that I now associate with Madagascar. Otherwise, it may be the fact that the anniversary of our arrival back to the United States occurs in the beginning of March and triggers these memories. It could also simply have to do with the fact that most Minnesotans get cabin fever and we all start discussing travel and escaping our frozen tundra around this time.
I guess whatever the reason I find myself once again jamming out to African tunes on my ipod, revisiting old pictures of my youth and looking up ticket prices to head back home. I will chuckle when I watch the nightly news broadcast the forecast, and remember when we used to watch the news in Madagascar and they would hold up a sheet of paper with a hand printed map of Madagascar and a written list of the days temperatures. On one of my next trips to the grocery store I will probably end up buying an overpriced mango or papaya and will probably share with people the joys of lychee juice streaming down my chin. And if time allows, I will probably drag my husband to the zoo so we can check out the lemurs and I can reminisce over the time that I baby sat a lemur and it nearly ran away...because this is what I do every year at this time.
During our time there we lived in both Antananarivo and Antsirabe. I was born in Antsirabe, where I nearly earned myself Norwegian citizenship because the local government office didn't believe that any Americans had ever been born in the city despite my parents both being American citizens. During my time in Madagascar I attended a French pre-school and kindergarten and a Norwegian school for fourth and fifth grade. My mom also attempted some home schooling (where I was a less than ideal student) and I spent a few years in school here in America.
I suppose it is a misnomer to say that I get homesick because I do feel very much at home now in my life here in the United States. However, living in America is much different than living in Madagascar, and sometimes I miss the routine and experiences I had living abroad as a child. I think growing up abroad, I became accustomed to a certain level of constant homesickness. I always remark that when we lived in Madagascar I would long to be with our family in America and when we would return to America I would long for my "family" in Madagascar. I grew up acutely aware that I was straddling two very different cultures. In some ways I was connected to both worlds and in other ways I was not connected to either.
Perhaps, it is the isolation of a Minnesota winter that makes me miss the comfort of community that I now associate with Madagascar. Otherwise, it may be the fact that the anniversary of our arrival back to the United States occurs in the beginning of March and triggers these memories. It could also simply have to do with the fact that most Minnesotans get cabin fever and we all start discussing travel and escaping our frozen tundra around this time.
I guess whatever the reason I find myself once again jamming out to African tunes on my ipod, revisiting old pictures of my youth and looking up ticket prices to head back home. I will chuckle when I watch the nightly news broadcast the forecast, and remember when we used to watch the news in Madagascar and they would hold up a sheet of paper with a hand printed map of Madagascar and a written list of the days temperatures. On one of my next trips to the grocery store I will probably end up buying an overpriced mango or papaya and will probably share with people the joys of lychee juice streaming down my chin. And if time allows, I will probably drag my husband to the zoo so we can check out the lemurs and I can reminisce over the time that I baby sat a lemur and it nearly ran away...because this is what I do every year at this time.
