I have often said that one of the best things about travelling is coming home, and I still find that to be true. I walked into our home and relinquished myself to the comfort and familiarity of a space that is ours. I am so full of gratitude for our windfall in the lottery of life that has us living in Australia, it’s not called the “lucky country” for nothing.
For the last week we have both sunk into the couch, with a distinct unwillingness to move for any real amount of time. We returned to a cold Brisbane winters day where the daytime temperatures only got up to about 19°C and night time was as low as 7°C, I know that’s like summer in some places. The apartment gets no sun in winter and the tile floor, which is better suited to a hot summers day, is cold underfoot We venture out for small excursions before once again curling up on the lounge, Fonzie the dog at our feet and the heater on. We are reluctant to return to “normal life” too quickly so we do it in bite sized pieces. We sit wrapped in the comforting cocoon of our home.
The two small boys stood watching me solemnly, standing against the wall with their mother a brief distance away. We had stopped in their village to take photos of the yak dung covered walls, drying in the sun so that later they could be used as fuel for the fire.
I walked up to the boys smiling but their solemn expression didn’t change, they were wary of me, one of four strange looking foreigners who had alighted from a van. I had two bright juicy oranges that I wanted to share with the boys. After a nod of consent from their mother I gave each of the boys an orange. Their faces broke into smiles and they clutched their gifts tightly. We stood there smiling at each other for a while then I wandered back to the van assuming that we were about to depart, however our guide, who knew of my desire to see inside a Tibetan house, spoke with the boys’ mother and she invited us in.
From outside the house appeared of good quality and quite a substantial size, two storey and rectangular, typical of the houses in the area.
One of my greatest pleasures is staying in my daughter’s home. I love that when we arrive she has cleaned and tidied the place, bought the food we like to eat and made arrangements to explore Melbourne. Best of all is that, at 26 years old, she clearly enjoys spending time with us. None of these actions are in themselves profound, they are the sorts of things that we all do when having guests to stay, however I notice and cherish them all.
If you ask parents of young children what future hopes they hold they will inevitably answer Continue reading →