Away From Home For Too Long

I landed around noon in Windhoek, just in time to be welcomed by the unswerving Namibian winter sun. I'd missed it alright, because even during the winter, it managed to keep my dark skin warm. It brought so many of us together, be it basking in the hot sun during lunch break with the cold air currents creeping in from some direction we couldn’t quite determine, or on a lazy Sunday morning.

It put a smile on our faces with just a single streak of light, light energy that is then converted into heat energy and so the science goes. I'd missed the Namibian sun and the moment I landed, I knew I would carry its warmth and light into the next dark winter in the high north.

Still, I remember the wind. That 'this is your soil, your home- wind' welcoming me as I stepped down the stairs, as if she had been with me all along. As if she'd seen my over the past three years, wander in foreign land, with foreign languages and during my most vulnerable times. I knew my experience after being away from home for such a long time would be well, quite pleasant.

Queen Rachel Urikhos

I smiled at my fellow passengers and waited calmly in line as I queued in the 'Namibian citiziens' queue. I loved that sense of belonging, even though I'm sure that not everyone was that sentimental about the situation. I smiled to myself, knowing that I had all my documents in order, this was it!

I was curious, as always. Wondering where my fellow Namibian counterparts had been, how they had ended up in their respectful destinations. I wondered how often they returned home, if they lived with their family on the other side and if they were standing there in that moment wondering exactly the same things that I was.

The language had already started to sound familiar on the plane, I had someone speak Oshiwambo behind me and another speak Herero. I smiled, like a crazy girl. Just smiled to myself, feeling like a main character in some movie only I'll ever see.

People were laughing, there went the codeswitching, giving me just enough to guess what the conversation was about and then switching to another tongue that only sounded like familiar but gibberish to me.

Back in the queue, it was my turn and the immigrations officer asked my passport and were I had been, a fellow Namibian. I hugged the sound of the Namlish (Namibian English) as I smiled and replied, 'Norway'. The conversation went on to how I ended up there and I gave a quick summary, collected some blessings and stepped into the motherland.

The one thing that was constant right from the moment I got on the plane from Oslo to Windhoek was the difference, all the things that made this same world so different at the same time. I kicked myself mentally for finding myself comparing the two worlds. As soon as I landed in Windhoek, my mind was still trying to figure out how this place that had been my only home suddenly seemed different and yet the same, in contrast to the new home that I'd acquired.

Even when I was not thinking about it, I was thinking how it was back in Norway, maybe reflecting a bit more and therefore being away instead of being in the moment. Too often I caught myself leaving my body, just staring up from above at myself and trying to understand all those feelings that bombarded me from within.

With the very same backpack I'd left with three years ago, I positioned myself around the baggage claim waiting for my luggage. One big suitcase with all the clothes I could fit and Aunt Iselin's big travel bag that I had adopted ever since I moved. The bag and suitcase were packed to their maximum, it was a struggle getting through the airport. I would be lying if I said that I was not in the slightest worried about my luggage at all.

I looked around eagerly, trying to spot some familiar faces and surprise, I noticed a girl I attended the same Sunday School with! Well, I don't think she knew who I was, but her dad owned a food programme kind of Sunday School in Hakahana where my cousins and I used to be at, it was good food so we were sure to show up and sing our lungs out.

The baggage belt was smaller, much more closer and everyone seemed to wait anxiously around it, I know because its how crazy we are. Trusting fellow human beings to take care of our belongings even when we've travelled from the other side of the world. People started taking their bags and leaving, I got stuck there, starting to question if choosing Ethiopian Airlines was a mistake.

While being caught up in those thoughts, I looked up ahead and saw familiar faces. Faces I knew and loved so dearly. After about five minutes of waiting and about another five of the security guards unpacking and scanning through my luggage, I made it to the otherside.

There I was welcomed by my closest family, people I had grown up with and just a handful of them. I hadn't told a lot of people that I was coming, lets just say they were in for a good surprise. We kind of just stared at each other, gave awkward hugs and laughed a bit. I think it was a bit tense for a while, everyone was overwhelmed and so was I, even though I tried to keep a light tone and sound eager. I didn't know what they expect me to be like and I guess they somehow felt the same?

Oh well, the confusion and the mixed emotions were not to last that long because the smiles and the laughter that was starting to build up reminded me that I was home. The thousands of questions that had kept everyone in an odd place were suddenly blowing me away, and I kept the same energy with asking about where who and who was and how they were doing.

I'd still go back and hug a cousin or walk next to my dad and squeeze him tight because I could not understand that I had survived without him for three years. I would smile at my mom and be amazed at the fact that I had missed her smile that much, the smile that came from her eyes. How the hell does one stay away from family for that long?

It was good to be on the road I swear. I pointed out to the taxis and the buses that were all too familiar, it felt like I was going through portals, accessing a familiar world as time went by. My family laughed every time I pointed at a car or at the robots and cried 'ahh look! Our own blue buses, I've almost forgotten how they look like!', it was a funny sight.

The funny part though was that my mom had hired a bakkie with no back glass and the driver made me question if I was going to make it home alive at all. My family teased me and said that this was normal, how could I forget the busy Windhoek roads!

It was a good place to be, seeing that people don't really change even when they do. I was curious about what had been going on in their lives, looked forward to hearing them talk in a language and use exrepressions only I know they would use. I hadn't changed at all they said, my mom said I was skinnier though and everyone agreed. I knew that was coming, school had drained me the two months before so it was expected. I looked forward to eating some of my favorite dishes, cooking food in ways only we know how. Boy was I excited!

There is a certain limitation I'm experiencing now, I think it happens when you try to explain something so dear to you, a once in a lifetime experience and it kind of loses its meaning and thrill in explanation. It feels like it loses its beauty and excitement because words will never be enough, and only the one experiencing it will truly know what it felt like.

This is me in this moment, I get excited trying to put it forward that it ends up sounding exaggerated or too simplified. But I tell you, this was one experience I couldn't prepare myself for. Coming from where I come from and being away for that long, to a whole different world? It was the craziest experience, that I will tell you.

I felt a void being filled the more we got closer to the areas I often moved around in, that feeling of familiarity and belonging growing with each conversation and each familiar place and face. I can't express and say that enough, it was such a warm feeling. There were so many questions and not once did I get tired of answering them, not once did the thought even get to me that they were silly questions.

This was a chance to share knowledge and share with everyone what a world of possibilities and craziness we live in. I still smile thinking of my mom or dad glancing at me as I spoke to someone else, the look on their faces pure joy and happiness. I'm grateful for those folks, glad I know what it feels like to be loved.

We got home and the excitement grew because now there was more people to see, more to tell the same stories to with the same excitement and of course, try to give everyone my undivided attention which was impossible to put it mildly. God, it was wonderful to be back, especially seeing my extended family and just people that have always known me. I must say that almost everyone was surprised I spoke Khoekhoegowab with the same tone, the same accent and the words even a little grown.

The sentence structure maybe sounded unattractive at times when I got stuck and we laughed about it once in a while, but boy did I abuse that click language I'd missed so much. I didn't have to sit and record alone, this time it was all I could hear around me and I have never been prouder of my mother-tongue. A little sad that only 200 000 people speak this language, and the numbers are dropping. It breaks my heart.

Initially I was supposed to spend three weeks in Namibia, but I caught a cold the second week. This meant I ended up extending my stay by anotehr week which made sense given I had been away from home for so long. I took the luxury of walking around as much as I could, with one of my younger brothers always by my side. It was good to observe society again, maybe from a different point of view but still the same me, over and over. I eagerly greeted the boys hanging in the corner of the street, to keep the peace. 'You think you're better than us? We'll take your purse next time', that was the unspoken so I did what I could to keep the peace. It worked out fine alright.

I liked how people were always outside, sometimes it made me want to hide in the house all day but I liked me a good challenged, especially on those horrible days. The streets were lively, that liveliness I longed for while in Norway, streets filled with people. It quenched my soul. The vendors at the end of every street, the guys walking around selling whatever they had found.

The tuckshop infront of every house, showing how everyone was just trying to make some income to get through the day. Things were different too and some part of me didn't like that, I felt like they had moved on without me, but life had to go on. I sighed that they did not sell my favorite packet of chips, there were a myriad of brands I had never seen before and the prices had gone up. I felt like a familiar stranger- a member of society that was suddenly two metres away, in everything.

It was mostly different because I was no longer part of the 17 year olds and I was no longer in high school, my friends had moved away and they were young adults now. They were busy and they had schedules, I liked that for them, but I missed us too. I'd grown up in this place with always having Janneth around me and she was not there, it was a weird feeling. With each passing day, I learned to adapt and appreciate the new in the every day.

My mom and I visited family members during weekends, popping in wherever we could and sharing stories of a crazy country were the sun does not shine during the winter and where it stays up all night during the summer. My mom said I spoke so well, that I was eager to share and she was a bit surprised becaise I had always been the shy one. Guess I'd surprised myself too!

I took strolls with my big sister, went to the Kapana Market in Single Quarters for the first time and went there almost every second day. I enjoyed talking to my sister, getting to know her all over again. How could I forget dear Celine, how grown she was! I'm glad I got to play the godmother and aunt role for a while, nothing felt nicer than giving Celine a kiss on the cheeks and telling her she was beautiful. Or asking her if she had any friends at school and hearing her talk about her little peers.

One particular mention of her friends being green, white and yellow was one that made me question whether she doesn't see color at all or she had been watching too much Cocomelon. Maybe I've been exposed to the black and white in the world too much that I wanted to hear how she felt about that since she is the first in our family to attend a mixed school, turns out there's nothing special and maybe apartheid has started using protection for the next generation? Only time will tell.

Walking in the streets of Windhoek knowing that I'm leaving again was a weird feeling, but an oddly familiar one because I'd felt it before. I'd feel it every morning when I walked to school, felt like I was just passing by. Maybe it was because we moved around a lot and thats why I got used to not settling in one place for more than three years. Or maybe it was because I felt like there was something out there for me, something I had to reach and the now was just a means to get to that something. Maybe it was away. Maybe it was abroad. Maybe it was Norway.

I loved the time spent with my friends, the past we had in common. The stories we reflected on, over and over as if thats all that mattered. I loved hanging with old classmates and old flames. I loved the dances, the music and the house music that had somehow become a modern tradition for every Namibian, almost all ages. I loved the hookah, the groups around it. I loved that I got my dad's jacket and felt tough and special in it, words will never be enough. I felt mysterious, I felt basic and I felt home. There were so many emotions.

Being away from home taught me so much but the one I'd like to put in the limelight now should be how the love never goes away, the love for the things that have always been dear to you. The things and the people, the sounds and the sights. It makes you feel alive and recharges you.

It was a privilege for me to be with my parents again to find them in good health. To stay up late with my dad and talk about everything just like we used to when I was younger. I must say even my dad's crazy girlfriend contributed to the sense of familiarity, all I've ever known.

A last look at the shebeens playing music all day every day, all types of music. I must say I was surprised when I woke up to songs of Fleetwood Mac one Saturday morning. I wasn't sure whether to like the fact that peeople around there knew good music too or be sad that I wasn't special for listening to Fleetwood Mac haha. No, I'll tell you, it showed me that this world is just as big as it is small. That things go around and things never reach some places, thats what I realised.

https://open.spotify.com/track/5kcsc92tGAjS0uvhDY3Mok?si=e79e46f1207d4809 I woke up to this song in particular and I was like, 'wait, where am I? still in Katutura? I loved it!'

As the weeks went by, I saw some good friends and shared even more stories. I hated hearing that I should bring home a rich white husband, so much so that I responded to a very respected uncle of mine and told him I could bring home a richer black husband and it would be the same for me. That I could be the rich black woman and it would be even better. The one thing I hated and still do, but I was super careful about was the way I responded to questions about what it was like to live with white people.

A quick note on that, I feel like our apartheid past and the still segregated society leaves little interaction for black and white people. As with most parts of the world, being white is associated with being rich, holy and beautiful. The ace up the sleeve and I'm not one that promotes that idealogy because now I know better. It's so deeply rooted in our society that it exists in the language as well, it drives me mad sometimes.

So to any of my people that wondered, I told them that it was normal to live with white people just like it's okay to live with black people, green people and red people. Celine gets it and she's only 7. I wonder when older people will disown that apartheid past. Is it even possible?

As you might have noticed, this was just a reflection summary of my first trip back home in three years and more so a general post. I realise now that there will be two to three more specific posts on the visit, like the day I went to work with my mom and then with my dad. Or the day I decided to call my friends from my Namibian phone number to say I was home. I promise there's still so much to say and I guess it will never be enough.

I'm surely looking forward to the next time I'll be home again. To all the changes but most of all, that familiar feeling. And to sum everything up, one day I will write about how it was flying back to Norway because that was an experience on its own. This is why they have word limits in exams otherwise people like me would write books and start looking for publishers. I'm glad I can share this much!

Well, the blog is growing and I'm looking forward to sharing so much new content with you guys! Changes and learning experiences, learning so much about myself and the world I thought I knew. And unlearning. Growing and realising that some days I'm just another human being on the bus, in the classroom and at home. That I'm one and we're one together, what a weird thing to say.

Well, I hope you too are exploring and learning. Until next time, cheers!

Love, Queen