Today is one of those days, upon getting to the end of it, that I realize my life is actually here in Lithuania. That Klaipeda isn't a city in Eastern Europe I am merely exploring and experiencing, but it is our home. It is our town. We belong here. Well, it is about time - it has been growing on us for 8 months now. There used to be a day when that amount of time in one location was long enough for Erik and I to decide it was time to move to another state. It makes me ask, "What makes a place become Home for the wildly wandering tumbleweed that I am?"
3 things come to mind:
one-usual places,
two-neighbors, and
three-baking.
Usual Places
And by places, I mean shopping. The Old Town market, the bandele bakery, and all of the little shops between Old Town and campus in which I stop to buy my multiple odd grocery list items of toilet paper, olive oil and red pepper flakes are now the norm. I really am dreading the day I must attempt to step back into Super Target and try to find toothpaste on aisle D46, remembering that I must make a decision about what kind of toothpaste I want to buy. No thanks. I have found that this kind of shopping is much more my style. I have 3 or 4 choices in Lithuania and I have reached the point of knowing where and how to find/ask for our typical necessities. It wasn't this easy back in August, but I realized on my walk home from the market today loaded with potatoes, onions and eggs how far I have come. I was even able to recognize a lot of the faces selling their wares from my early adventures at the market last fall. Much to my surprise, I bought my 2 kilos of potatoes from my favorite maintenance man at LCC. It's nice getting used to usual places and usual faces.
Neighbors
Of course we have had neighbors all along. We live in a dormitory with 200 college students running around on the floors above us. We go to bed after midnight on weekends to the sound of high heels click-clacking all the way down the hall on their way out the door on the other side of our wall. I am talking about the kind of friends in the community whose door you can knock on without calling ahead. Alene & Carrie have grown to be those sort of friends for me this semester. I am thankful for times of being out and about in town and being able to stop in to drop something off, say hello, or just use the bathroom since public restrooms in town are so hard to come by. The timing of finding neighbors seems to be ordained as well. At the same time that I realized my deep need for female friendships outside of work, my interactions with these ladies happened more frequently. Gotta love how that works out. I am thankful for my chance to drop off produce from the market at Alene's this afternoon and the impromptu cup of tea we were able to share together, in spite of her being too sick to feel like leaving the house today. Now that's a sign of a good neighbor.
Baking
Lastly, I know I have settled into a place when I have started to bake. Baking is probably one of my favorite therapeutic practices; though I must admit it comes after cleaning for me. When all is chaotic in my world, I start to clean. If life is busy, but I am getting into some sort of groove, I begin to bake. Cookies, apple crisps, granola, scones, cinnamon rolls & bread to name them all. My repertoire has been limited since living in Lithuania due to difficulties in finding the same ingredients, but I still enjoy being in the practice of baking here. I am attracted to baking bread because of the intensive labor of love that it requires. I love how hands-on it is and how accomplished I feel when I see the golden loaves on the cooling rack and have the aroma of homemade bread swirling around our cozy apartment. Before I go, I should also mention here that having a love for baking does not necessarily mean that I am a good baker. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. There were quite a few times this semester that my initial attempts to make whole-wheat bread turned out super-dense, wheat bricks that we choked down only out of principle.
Surprising as it sounds, Kretingos g. 36, LT-92307 in Klaipeda, Lietuva has become home for us. It doesn't mean that we don't miss people and places back home terribly, but this feeling is something new for us Johnstrand's. I might even go so far as to say that maybe familiarity, routine & commitment aren't so bad after all.*
*Don't hold me to that. :)
So what makes a home a Home?
I would say a walk to the Market,
a cup of Tea, & homemade Bread.
