the place i called home

I went on a weekend trip this Thursday to Saturday. We explored different cities in Denmark, went to some hospitals, ate some good food, and stood with our feet in two different seas at the same time. Don't worry, I will write more later about all that we did and post pictures, but for now, I have to say one thing while it is on my mind.

It took about 7 hours to get home yesterday. Bus ride then ferry then bus ride again. And I know that I was only gone for a few days, but when I stepped off that bus last night, I knew I was home. For the first time in these three weeks in Denmark, I actually felt like Copenhagen, not California, was my home. Now granted, with each footstep and each new experience here, I miss my family. I always will, because I want them to be next to me experiencing what I am experiencing and feeling what I feel. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I had finally, finally settled down. I wasn't travelling anymore to a foreign country to study abroad. This place, with my moldy shower curtain, smelly kitchen that will never be clean, ghetto room and broken washing machines, has inched its way into my heart. I am proud now to call it home.