One of the biggest reliefs this summer comes when a 14 kg box of my belongings from Australia finally arrives, several months delayed. Finally, I have clothes to wear and important papers back in my possession. I was getting worried I’d never see these things again.
Albulena, the peanut butter to my jelly for the past 20 years, is getting married. The lucky fella in this incredible love story is Dardan, whom I only just met very recently, because of obvious reasons to people who know us (like the whole moving to Australia thing). Due to a lot of their family living in Kosovo, it’s time for a destination wedding.
I am home. I sit on my dad’s balcony with a glass of wine in my hand. This is where I live now. My hair’s bleached almost pure white to get rid of the excess green. I have a job in telemarketing that I hate. My friends have been scattered around the country, making it harder to see them spontaneously, but like my family, they’re a lot closer now than they have been for the past few years. My plans to go back to school have been compromised by new laws, so I’m back to square one. Here I am, just trying to make a life for myself in a country that is home, yet seems so foreign to me after a long time on the road. I’m standing still, but constantly moving.
Christchurch, New Zealand and the sky: another chapter in my book of unfortunate happenings