First Wave of Homesickness

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From Luton to St. Albans....

With my MP3 player on shuffle, I walk from school to Leagrave Station to take the train home. Alison Krauss's Down to the River to Pray comes on and my mind drifts back to my home in Tennessee. I see Nickajack Dam and the beautiful, green Sequatchie Valley surrounded by the Appalachian Mountains. I taste my stepmom's famous fried chicken, creamed potatoes, sweet tea, beans, and cornbread. I see farms, over whose soil slaves used to bend in the hot sun, picking cotton, singing hymns, somehow finding joy in that miserable life. I hear the music of a soft, friendly southern accent.

I've slowly developed a new-found patriotism. I've always loved my country, and I've always loved being a southerner. But now, I feel downright PROUD of my homeland and grateful that I'm an American. There are so many things about the UK and Europe in general that don't measure up to us. Their systems aren't as good as ours. I think, Man, it's so much better at home. I've learned that many immigrants to the US are more patriotic than people who are born there. My immigrant friends will say to me, "Alicia, why the hell would you want to leave? You're already in the greatest country in the world!"

The UK is great, but the United States of America is truly the greatest country in the world. Here in England, I love anything that reminds me of home, and I refuse to lose my southern accent.

Modern-Day Bonnie & Clyde has such a sexy riff, I strut to the beat in spite of myself. I'm transported back to Nashville, the honky-tonks on Broadway, the country music, and line dancing. I miss walking into a honky-tonk and hearing covers of classic country and new country rock. I miss dancing while, within three minutes, some guy buys me drinks. I miss the Big Bang and the classic rock there, how you can request anything and those guys can play it.

Seems like everyone in Nashville is in the music industry somehow, and (I didn't realize this until now), that's comforting to me. Like I'm among friends.

At my house...

I go to Morrison's to buy groceries and supplies to make banana bread out of my increasingly brown bananas. I haven't baked since I've lived here because our kitchen is so small and doesn't have many supplies. I buy a bread pan, measuring cup, and measuring spoons. Once home, I plug my MP3 player into the speaker and take it downstairs into the kitchen. Slowly, relishing every moment of it, I bake some homemade banana bread. While it's in the oven, I sing along to my country music and wash the dishes.

I miss driving a car. I miss my friends and family. I miss the Tennessee River.

Perhaps that's why I'm drawn to the Thames. Although its surroundings are totally different from the Tennessee River, I LOVE it! I love the lights, the sunset behind Big Ben, and the purity of its strength. When I've had an especially bad day at work, I don't get off the train at St. Albans. I keep going to the London Bridge. Once I'm there, I feel the pull of the river, like I'm craving it. Once I'm at the riverbank, my body relaxes and my breathing slows and deepens. My heart expands. Tension flows out of me into the river. I sit and stare, not wanting to look away from it. My eyes are hungry for this healing water.

I can't go to the Tennessee River, but I can enjoy the Thames. The deep, powerful body of water can't be all that much different from the one in my homeland.

I'll go down to that river and pray.

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Comments

[Chris]

Nice
That was great.