I’m feeling a little lost right now. For the past three months, I was focused on exploring this extraordinary part of the world. For the past three months, my mission was simple – to live as much as humanly possible. But it’s all coming to an end now, as I sit here with a coffee in Genève airport waiting to board my flight to London. I’ll be flying home the following week.
Calling it a whirlwind of a journey doesn’t even begin to sum it up, this journey that started pretty much after graduation. All the excitement and thrill that came with planning for a three-month long trip, the first flight out, cutting my toe and bleeding all over Split, having squid ink risotto with Sue Huey on my birthday, having such a laugh when we couldn’t afford anything to drink in Budapest, eating way too much in Prague, exploring Russia like the independent woman I supposedly am, missing my ship from Helsinki to Stockholm, dancing the night away in Oslo and Berlin, and having great conversations over too many beers with too many incredible people with even more incredible stories to share.
There are also many more places I’ve yet to experience, like the South of France, Milan, Venice, Vienna, the Baltics, Dublin again, Lisbon, Barcelona, Madrid, Seville, and the list goes on for quite a bit. Travelling alone is no longer scary to me, but an opportunity to connect with the world in my own special way.
And then I got a job and everything changed. My plans were cut short but I now have a whole new treasure chest of memories I wouldn’t trade for the world. I love my new found family at TrekkSoft (insert mandatory hyperlink), the crazy bunch who have accepted me with open arms. They completely dispelled any fears I had and created a great environment to work in. I’ll miss waking up to beautiful skies and mountains, even when it’s all snowy and wet and gross. I’ll also miss a secret agent I met, but that’s a story for another day.
I’m so torn between wanting to stay on and wanting to go back it’s crazy. It’s like I’m constantly going back and forth between jumping for joy and almost tearing up in sadness, especially when I see a Christmas tree because I absolutely love Christmas. Europe is a beautiful place, even more so over Christmas and it kills me a little bit every time I think about how I won’t be here for it.
On the other hand, I’m so excited to go home and put up our Christmas tree and all our Christmas decorations (I’m thinking of raiding IKEA for a tonne of extra Christmas goodies). I miss my bed, my dog, my deis and bros, my pillows that need a good wash, the sun and Malaysian food. I don’t miss my family because I talk to them regularly and although they’re not here, it feels like they’re all around me, you know?
I’m also terrified that if I reach home, I might never want to leave. It’s an amazing place and there is no where like it. Where else can you go out for nasi lemak or dim sum or bak kut teh at 2am?
My pre-disposition to give more than I can get will most likely stop me from leaving, should I fall into the hands of another for-purpose organisation. It’s not because I’m a self-righteous prick who practices false humility, but because I have a deep love for Malaysia. I don’t know how or when I fell so hard for Malaysia, but boy oh boy I did.
That love makes me want to explore every inch of it, to discover new things to share with the world. I want to grow old with Malaysia and grow together with it. It has so many scratches, cuts and bruises; I want to hold it in my arms and care for it. Yet, I know that just like a mother has to leave her children to go to work, I need to leave Malaysia to grow myself to become useful one day. Do you think I sound crazy? I’m definitely walking on a fine line of crazy aren’t I?
I can’t help it. That’s where my heart is. Bite me.