Monday, August 18, 2008
Homesick for my Home Land
I don't know why its hitting so hard now, 6 years later, but I am extremely homesick for Hungary. I catch myself walking down the city streets in my mind, trying to remember the details: the shops, the street names, the smells, the food. I think about the people I loved and taught and shared my heart with. I wonder if they remember me and the experiences we shared. I think about the missionaries I served with and wish that we could be together laughing through one more district meeting or eating together on P-day. I am afraid that its all slipping away, like my command of the language. I try to talk to myself in Hungarian and find Spanish vocabulary filling in the voids where my Hungarian has disappeared. Will my knowledge of the city layouts and the bus routes disappear as well? If I went back for a visit would anyone remember me?
Before I went on my mission I talked to a girl who had served in Chile. I asked her if she was glad that she went. She said the only bad thing was how much she missed it after coming home. I know what she meant. It hurts.