somewhere in the atlantic

spoke to two of my very dear friends from heidelberg today after a long time. we bemoaned together (well, the three of us, in separate conversations with each other) how everyone seems to be moving away from heidelberg, and i suggested it may be best to meet somewhere in the middle of the atlantic.
i remember not being able to sleep on the plane, during one flight back to heidelberg from the u.s. it was april of 2004, semester break had just ended, and i was on my way home. the stewardesses had stopped harassing us with drinks carts and duty free and disgusting food, the lights in the cabin were off (save for the few individual reading lights above other insomniacs' seats) and i was watching people sleep. i didn't want to watch a movie, but i turned on my screen anyway, and there was that map animation that all planes have - an expanse of blue and green to represent water and land, a red line to show the plane's progress, and the plane itself. i remember being entranced by that tiny airplane, suspended for a time over the swath of blue, right smack dab in the middle of the atlantic. the expat syndrome had, i think, already started to form in my head - it's important to note that this trip back to the states had been my first time going back since i had moved to germany in the summer of 2002. everything was different. i remember feeling like a stranger in the town i had grown up in, because my eyes could not adjust to that level of american-ness again. things perhaps hadn't changed, but i most certainly had, and a feeling of imbalance pervaded my entire trip, the whole 2 months i was home.

in the airplane, at that point above the water in the middle of the atlantic, i felt at home. because i could see already the battle ahead, the dilemma of being in two or three places at the same time, not being able to move people i loved on one continent to the other, and vice versa.

when i came back to new jersey permanently, in 2005, i think everyone noticed the dissonance. it became harder to hide. people could see in my eyes that i was physically here, but mentally and emotionally not. it took 3 years to finally condition myself to being in america again, to taking part and living in the now. my english has finally come back to me (to the detriment of my german...though the deutsch geht noch, oder?), as there were moments when my normally articulate brain could no longer find the english words to express itself.

i think i've taken the best of both worlds again. it's still difficult to know that people i love are thousands of miles away - in heidelberg or berlin, munich or israel, south american, new zealand, australia, china. they're little pinpoints of light on my own personal map, and i follow their progress around the world with much greater zeal than they can imagine by my long silences and horrible communication skills. but they're there, in the back (and at times, the front) of my mind, and i realized today that my place is the same in their minds. we've carved out spaces for ourselves in each other's hearts, and i'm glad of it.