We’re back in Minnesota. After three weeks of white beaches, sunshine and our annual bear hug of a family vacation.

Sigh.

First, the news of the day. It looks like the Strib is close to its target of 50 newsroom buyouts so I apparently still have a job to come back to. The bad news? I still have a job to come back to…(just kidding, boss.)

I always get this way after a trip home to see my family in Malaysia. 26 hours each way? No problem. Jetlagged babies? Nursing works wonders. But every time we turn around and head back to Minnesota, I start asking myself those questions with no answers: Where is home? And what’s life all about anyway?

Those of you who live far from your families - whether they’re in Kalamazoo or Kuala Lumpur - know what I’m talking about. You can plan all you want, but love, work and family don’t always fit neatly in one place. I’ve lived in seven cities including in Asia and Europe but it’s only now - with babies in the picture - that the world seems bigger and the distances further.

Even with annual trips, there’s always the warming-up period. This time, the older girl leapt into her grandmother’s arms and started chattering non-stop but the little one - just 17 months - held out a week before she’d even let Grandma hold her, two weeks before she’d laugh and play. And our entire holiday was only three weeks long.

Then there are the inevitable Travel Emergencies. Three years ago, there were the giant mosquito bites that flared up and caused one eye on the kid to almost swell shut. Two years ago, it was a tummy bug. This time, the little one broke out in heat rash all over. These things wouldn’t matter as much if our time together wasn’t so short. 

But we’ll take what we can get. As usual, we hit the beach for a few days with a 30-something strong army of aunts, uncles, cousins and kids to where the sea felt like a sea should - like a warm bath. As usual, we ate too much, Malaysian street food being some of the best in the world. The toddler became adept at stuffing handfuls of breakfast noodles into her mouth. Back in the city, the kids ogled at the bustle - always new skyscrapers, new highways. When the traffic and crowds got too much, we headed out on daytrips - to an elephant sanctuary and on a hike up to a crazy, swaying bridge strung a hundred feet up in the rainforest canopy.

As always, the babies attracted a lot of attention. In Minnesota, they look particularly Asian. In Asia, they look particularly Caucasian, prompting cries of “Putih!” - “So white!” - from strangers.

I remember something our minister said at our wedding five years ago, in my in-laws’ backyard in Red Wing overlooking the Mississippi. A century ago, he said, one would have married the girl or boy in the next village and lived there forever more. He looked at us - the Malaysian woman and the Minnesotan man - and proclaimed: “This is the way the world is going.” At the time, I was vaguely mortified - he deviated from the script! - but now I appreciate the significance of what he was talking about.

Maybe there isn’t one answer to Where is Home. Just different Homes for different times in life. 

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 6th, 2007 at 4:59 pm and is filed under Main. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.