Welcome to San Francisco

So yesterday was my trip to ___ University and I had to note down some thoughts going through my mind.

This was my first trip alone, national flight to be specific, as I flew out to New Zealand by myself but that hardly counted as I was conveniently dropped off at SF and picked up at Auckland. This was the first trip where I had no one waiting for me on the other side, where I actually had to plan my whole day myself. And so it was a big step, more so for my parents I feel, than me.

Stealing from my friend's blog, I had several 'oh, this is my life' moments that I want to remember. Ever since I accepted my admission to Cal, I had always wondered what it would be like to go to a school far from home. What it would be like to live the American college life- going to a college far off, getting homesick and flying home to good food during the holidays. Not that I had any regrets about Berkeley, and honestly, I sometimes felt homesick even though I was only a few miles away, but still. Every time I went by SFO on Bart, I would wonder what it would be like to be a jet-setter. And so when I went to ____ University, flying through the night and flying back the next night, I was like, oh yeah, this is what I've always wanted to try.

Also, going to to a reputed institution like ____ has always been something I've been curioua about- the atmosphere, the professors, the smaller community, and of course, the 'prepiness' that you keep hearing about. And so, walking through the streets, looking at my reflection in glass windows and doors, I couldn't help but say to myself, oh yeah, this is me- living the life I had always wondered about.

...And onto the reason behind the title of this post. This wasn't as much an 'oh yeah, this is my life' moment, but more more of a realization I guess. I have always had a hard time defining the word 'home'. Is it India, where all my relatives are, where I was born, where I have lived the longest? Or is it Michigan where I spent my first few years in the US? Or is it the Bay Area? Where I found my identity and my passion? When we landed in SFO, the hostess said, as part of her usual courtesy, 'Welcome to San Francisco'. And that was the point when I felt like I was coming home, for the first time in a long, long time. I love SF, I love the people here, the diversity, the progressive thinking...this is where my confused state of mind regarding my cultural identity could just be and feel okay about it. But I was yet to come to terms with calling the Bay Area my 'home'. After my trip, I realized that for a place to be called your 'home,' you have to get away from it. And only when you miss it, when you long to go back and experience the familiarity you have always felt so secure in, can it be called 'home.' It took me a while, but I think I can finally say, I'm from the Bay Area....and be proud of it.