Finding a way home

I firmly believe that we all belong somewhere. We belong to those who are part of our history. It is impossible to think of oneself without thinking of our family, friends and places that saw us grow up. Even when trying to define ourselves we instinctively think of our origins. That's what lets us know who we are.

Being alone in a country far away from your own leaves you a lot of time to think. It seems strange to me, however, that it has taken me just over 22 years to understand the meaning of the words my mom used to tell me when I was little (paraphrasing "The Little Prince" which used to be her favorite story and she read it all the time to me and my brother)...:

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eyes."

Only now I can realize how right she was (I guess it's kind of true that moms are never wrong).

How ironic life is, maybe even a little cruel, because I understand it now. Now that I am almost 5000 miles away. Now that what I miss most about my country is not my house, where I had a room to myself, nor my car, much less going out to eat at expensive restaurants or having my mother to do the cleaning and cooking for me. I always thought those would be the most difficult when I came here to study, but honestly I haven't even thought much about any of those memories since I arrived in California.

Now, if you ask me what I really miss about Chile, I don't have to think extensively about it, the answers are clear. I miss with all my heart hugging my mom and having her make me feel like everything is okay, just like when I used to run into her arms after kindergarten. I miss going to my aunt's house on Sundays and cooking a mariscal together as a family and staying there until we have once together. I miss sitting with my cousins at the bonfire they have in their backyard and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. I miss watching my soccer team's games and even the euphoric screams of my dad and brother. I miss arriving home and having my dog, Tomás, waiting for me so we can go for a walk together. I miss going out with my friends to do nothing and laugh about life. I miss feeling part of a community. I miss the people of Chile and lo muy de piel that we are. And yes, it took me a while, but I finally understood that what is really important is not seen, but felt, right in the chest.

The first picture is Tomi wearing our soccer team shirt and the second picture is me walking with Tomi.

Erica Violet Lee points out that we must redesign the word wealth from our experiences. When I read it I thought nothing had ever made so much sense to me. I always thought that to be rich was to have a car, a big house and a great job, but now that I think about it, I had all that in Chile, and I never felt happy or different because of it. Maybe, if no one told us what it meant to be rich. Maybe, we would live in a utopian world there was no capitalism and its prevailing ideas of what success or wealth is. Only then could we each give it our own definition, we would finally realize how lucky we are and that money has nothing to do with it most of the time.

I delusionally thought that I would be "happier" in the United States and at the same time I was afraid of feeling very different from my peers. This can be attribuited to the standard of living in a developed country being very different from many Latin American countries. However, on the contrary, my experience here has made me realize how truly rich I am and my people are.

Crucially, Lee points out that she no longer wants to spend time and energy on making her intellect more readable for the university. This is something I emphatize with, I've spent years striving to get here to achieve "success", which will eventually lead to wealth. I have spent so much time and effort searching for something that didn't really belong to me, because that's not my definition of abundance, at least not the one that fulfills me.

Now I contemplate my experiences growing up, and think that if I had understood what my mom meant when she read "The Little Prince" to me as a child, I would have done so many things differently before I left Chile. I would have taken care to give my mom tighter hugs, to stay a little longer at the table on Sunday with my family, to extend the conversation at the bonfire with my cousins, to enjoy the games and even the euphoric shouts of my dad and brother, to take longer walks with my Tomi, to enjoy laughing and even doing nothing with my friends.

Maybe I would have understood that, for me, being rich and feeling rich has to do with belonging to a place and its people, as I belong to them, and they belong to me. Undoubtedly, the right way to see is with the heart.

*Once: once refers in Chile to a light dinner or evening snack that consists of coffee or tea, and bread with butter, cheese, marmalade, or other accompaniments.

*Ser de piel: literally means being made of skin, but in Chile means when a person is affectionate, likes to hug and have physical contact with others. Someone who likes to cuddle others a lot to show their affection.