I came back at the end of June. When I was in the bus from London to Mannheim, I was so excited to see Germany again. And then, on the other side, I was as sad as I think I have never been before all my life. In the ten months I had lived in Birmingham I had learned to love the city, the school, the people, the menality of the English. I thought of all the great experiences, adventures and friends I had found in England and I didn't want to go back at all. But then I thought of all the letters and mails I had written and receives, the wonderful comments on this blog by those I had left behind, and I was glad to get back.
Have you ever heard of the word "ambivalence"? Well, that's how I felt. (Just Marc Antony felt in "Antony and Cleopatra" by Shakespeare, for whose interpretation I got an 'A' in my AS-Levels^^). Torn between two countries, two cultures, two languages. I had a lot of time to think during this 19-hour bus journey. From time to time I just wanted to cry, and then at the same time I was so happy when I saw road signs where it said "Germany" or something like that.
And when I saw Mannheim, I knew I was home. In one of my home countries.
Now weeks have passed. I have changed. My family, my city, my friends have changed. But it is still nice to be here. But there is a place I'd prefer to be. And it isn't here.
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