Home Is Where the Heart Is

One thing it’s easy to forget when you go away to college is how to live in your hometown. I experienced that this week, when I was home for Spring Break. I’ve never gone home for Spring Break before, either because I was rowing or because my little sister came to visit me and we were looking at colleges in the area (and I went on a trip to New York, which was quite fun). But there were reasonably priced flights home this year, and for a good month or so, I’d been in the kind of mood where you want to be home. Thus, home I went.  

But getting back to the forgetting how to live in your hometown thing- let me tell you a story about the differences between Seattle and Boston. For starters, in Boston crossing streets is a bit of a free for all. If you can make it across before the cars come, you do so, generally regardless of the status of the street lights. (Yes, this means jaywalking). In Seattle, you can get tickets for jaywalking. I’ve heard several stories from friends who have seen this happen. The whole traffic culture is different in Seattle than it is in Boston. Boston has a very ‘go for it’ attitude to getting places, as far as I can gather. If you’re not on top of it, you’ll get left behind. Car horns are a fairly frequent occurrence. In contrast, if you use your horn in Seattle, you’ll get angry looks and/or gestures, and possibly a ticket. People will wait for you to cross the street, and there’s just generally a more laid back attitude toward getting places in Seattle than there is in Boston.

The point of this diatribe about traffic culture in my hometowns (initial and adopted) is that I’ve forgotten how to be laid back about getting places. When I went on walks with my mom, I had to catch myself and make sure that I stopped at corners. When I drove to the store, I had to remember that I didn’t need to jump into traffic at the first opening- the cars behind me would be patient for at least two openings before they got angry (which is good, since I kind of forgot how to drive as well :P).

Another thing I’ve forgotten about how to live in my hometown is how to deal with the rain. Did you know it rains in Seattle? I know, craziness. It rained almost every day that I was home, which was actually oddly comforting. I’ve always liked the rain, especially when you get to listen to it falling, or enjoy the smell of wet concrete after a rain shower (incidentally, there’s a word for this- ‘petrichor’. It’s one of my favorite words).

What I’ve forgotten about the rain is how to be in it. Everyone in Boston uses umbrellas. In Seattle, if you’re using an umbrella you’re a tourist. While walking across the street in a rain shower wouldn’t have fazed me before college, I found that I was distinctly displeased with the idea last week. This probably doesn’t seem like a big thing. And honestly, it’s not. But rain is such a pervasive part of Seattle culture that not being comfortable in the rain is indicative of somehow being less of a Seattleite. It's weird to think that I might have changed that much in the 2.5 years I've been away from home. I don't feel like less of a Seattleite most of the time (particularly when I'm being passive aggressive about moving cardboard into the recycle bins). But there are moments when I'm in Seattle that make me realize that I have changed, at least in little ways like being comfortable in the rain. 

The one thing that doesn’t change though, in any city you’re in, is the people you interact with, and how you relate to each other. Yes, these relationships can be fluid. They can stretch, and bend, and even occasionally break. But the important ones don't break, regardless of the person you are at any given moment in time. So here’s a shout-out to my people, in Seattle and Boston and scattered all over the globe- thank you for being who you are, and for taking me as I am. It’s taught me that home isn’t as much about where you belong culturally as it is about who you belong with at heart.