Home is Where Your Heart is

When i was traveling to Europe. At a hostel in Belgium i met a fellow backpacker and had morning conversation after breakfast. He was from Brazil. He was about my age, 2 years older actually. He start the conversation when i was looking at Brussel map and try to find out what to see on Monday--as most of museum closed on Monday.

We talk a lot about destinations in Europe and he told me about his experiences in some countries he already visit. We share stories about Thailand, and some Asian countries that we both visited. I ask him how long had he been traveling? he said its been 3 years.



I ask him again, don't you miss home? his reply short of made me think again about everything, he said "home is where your heart is" he said he didn't miss it that much, surprisingly. He said he belong to every country he traveled to. He still had his mom and sister at home, but he found his passion to travel around the world beyond those. It made him miss traveling even more when he was at home. He quit his job and just on the road from one city to another, from one country to another one.

He ask me, so Fika, where your home is? i was laugh at his question. I said i don't know, but deep down, i had this same feeling like him. How i miss traveling when i was sitting on my desk at work, i miss traveling when i open my passport and could remember experiences i got from every each immigration stamps i got.

How i missed to be a stranger in a new town that i just stepped in. And the fun when i met new friends, learn new language, and do things i never done in my country. And be my self, express my feelings and just enjoy the details i see in every corner of streets.

i miss the small narrow cobble street in Europe

I do miss some people that i meet on my trip more than anything. I miss the short memories we've made, i miss the sense of adventure i got when i meet troubles there. I miss the feeling being independent and believe in my own self and judgement. I miss being a traveler.


I travel less than most of the backpackers that i met during my trip. I had very less mileage  than most of travelers who had traveling blogs like i do. But i know somehow the way i think and the way i see things are much different than i was....say 5 years ago. Whenever i travel back then the sound of "home" made me smile, and think wow my journeys end! why these days when i travel, and see my return ticket back to Indonesia i feel sad because the journey is end?

can you point where your heart is??

I do miss home when i was away, but its just to tiny small details like when i hear one of Indonesian song played, or when i miss one of those blazing spicy Indonesian food or when i see the price of a plate or rice in Euro nominal. I miss home when i was in a hostel female dorm and the girls just had this little gossip session or discussion which guy is the hottest one there---reminds me much of my sisters. I miss Indonesia when i was on this hard day, and no one smile or greet me on street. But do i miss Indonesia as much as i miss traveling?

Physically i am in a place i call home but my heart and my mind wondering to somewhere else.

I do feel like being a traitor because i could easily answer i love being away rather than being at my hometown. I am at my home country but i feel no less different than a stranded traveler. In place that i think i will never know. It is my home country, but But its just something you cant deny... home is where your heart is...

When my journey in Europe ends i remember i was crying in front of the immigration check, and say over and over--i dont want to go back home, i want to stay--oh well i cant stay as my visa will be over in less than 24 hours. But i do wish i could just stay there and not flying back.

When someone at the airport ask me: where are you flying to? my mind remind me of this "home" concept that i just learn, i told that person "i am going back to Jakarta" instead saying "i am going back home" its still an intriguing small question that i never be able to answer... where is my home truly are?



Home where you come back to, loved for who you are, when the whole world reject you that's the only place where you could go to. Home is where you found your truly happiness. Home where you could find your self. Home is the place where you could find your love.