I had my first cappuccino in Italy, five years ago, in a little coffee shop in Florence called 'Jolly Caffe.' And it was the best cappuccino I've ever had. It was then that I decided cappuccinos were my coffee of choice, assuring consistency in my future coffee endeavors. Little did I know that 5 years later I'd be living in a city with arguably some of the best coffee in the world. Yet I still order cappuccinos. And as I sit here stirring my cappuccino in a crowded cafe in one of Melbourne's bustling laneways, I feel at peace. The noise around me dulls as I stare, transfixed, at the swirling coffee in my mug, and a single thought occurs to me: I like it here. I like this city. I like living here.
I didn't always like it. In fact, in a lot of ways I hated it at times. Despite Melbourne being voted 'World's Most Livable City' 5 YEARS IN A ROW, I abandoned this blog after just a few posts because I couldn't come up with anything happy to write about. I do carry a notebook with me, however, so I will share an excerpt from the end of my first year here to put those thoughts/feelings in perspective for you:
"I moved here with this idea in my head that I could potentially make Australia my home for the better part of a decade or so, and was so annoyed when people would say things like, "Really: Who knows - you might hate Australia." In theory, that idea still seems absurd to me, - I mean, who could really hate Australia? - but I do. Well, no, that's not really fair. I don't hate everything. But the longer I'm here the less impressed I've become and the less interesting this country has become, which, for purposes of comparison, is the exact opposite of what I experienced living in Thailand. Maybe because I"m no longer part of an 'elite' group of seasoned expats doing life together, but am instead reduced to the neglected pool of unemployed international students, wandering aimlessly from cafe to cafe trying to stay awake long enough to finish reading the umpteenth journal article for a comprehensive literature review that's due in 5 minutes. I find myself looking out coffeeshop windows, tuning out the noise, watching people rush about to wherever it is people rush about to...and I think, what am I doing here? Why does everything seem so stale? Here and there, an enjoyable or memorable event/moment occurs, but generally I just feel displaced. The thrill is gone, if it was ever there to begin with."
And so I wait. I wait for my visa to be approved. I wait for the perfect job listing to show up on my computer screen. I wait for Dylan to give his life to Christ so we can get married and raise puppies together. I wait for the day when I have enough money saved to take a holiday to Scandinavia. I wait for friends to return from deployment. I wait for the next chapter to feel like it's begun.
I waited two years to get to a place where I liked it here (significantly longer than the 6 months it took in Thailand), which makes me wonder if the next country I live in will be worse.
But for now, my life is here. This is my home.
