I moved into a house on my own this past week. I spent the first 3 ½ months in my site living with a wonderful family, but it was time to be out on my own again. Based on some life decisions, like quitting my job to travel and then join the Peace Corps, I haven’t really been on my own since the December of 2006 (thanks K.C., Mom & Dad, the host families, and people who put me up on “Paul’s Imposition Tour 2007”). Kind of crazy. It’s a fun little house with plenty of room for just me. My favorite part is an odd room which is more or less built on top of the house. It has windows on three sides and is very airy (and quite dusty too). Kind of reminds me of a tree house or a fort you would have had as a kid. I’ve taken to drinking my coffee up there in the morning. This is my house for the next two years. It brings a question to mind…what’s home or perhaps where’s home? Certainly my youth was spent in Seattle (okay, Federal Way if you want to be exacting). Then the Air Force settled me in 3 States and 3 Countries over the course of the next 14 years (and countless more for shorter durations). There were the 8-months spent vagabonding around the U.S. and now Peace Corps Guatemala. The question of home may pertain to the building, but there is so much more to it than that. People have come into and out of my life with varying degrees of impact. Some have been there throughout. Life in the moment has always been a confluence of people, events, and locations. Sometimes for the very good and sometimes for the very bad. Sometimes for the very fun and sometimes I’ve had to “embrace the suck”. The “houses”. There was the spilt level on 305th Street (aka the “Family Home”), the dorm room, the thatched roof cottage vintage 1600, the apartment with the view of the Pacific Ocean, the dorm room part II, the house with the apple orchard and far too much land to maintain, the bachelor pad, and the “Family Home” once again. All were the canvas for my memories. It will be interesting to see what new ones I will create in this quirky little house. There was a saying we had in the Air Force: Home is where the Air Force takes you. I suppose even since I’ve hung up my flight cap, the sentiment holds true.
