I'm usually not the type to get homesick; home is wherever I'm staying that night. But when you're new to a city, constantly moving from place to place, and trying to study at the same time, things get tough. It's been about a month and a half since I've left Vancouver and I have stayed in 9 different accomodations. I didn't always have access to a kitchen and found myself eating all three meals in the school cafeteria. This city may be diverse, but it's definitely not as open as Vancouver. For the first time in my life I became conscious of my skin colour, and every stereotype and racist remark thrown at me hurt a hundred times more. I'm sick of explaining how I learned to speak such fluent English. Shit, I didn't just get off a boat. On nights that I had to trek 30 minutes to get back to my accomodation in the dark (because buses stop running at midnight), I wondered what the hell I was doing in Perth.
But last night I moved into my final home, well, at least until the end of November. The area is magical and more importantly, a dog lives here. I've dropped my thesis project to take creative writing, visual arts, and Italian. I went for a long run across a bridge during the sunset, got lost, then made friends with someone who walked me back. I bought hibiscus tea leaves, just made a marvelous dinner, and am listening to Backstreet Boys. Things are great. Now I'll need to find a job so I can afford to be here!
Anyway, if you know me, you know that I'm in a really good place right now from the photo. Tell my daddy I'm alive please. I'm finally home.
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