Hobbies vs Homesickness

Homesickness is like the tide. At certain parts of the day it blankets the entire beach, leaving no room to relax or wind down. At other times it retreats back into the sea, leaving behind a serene place to work on that golden tan. When you compare high tide to low tide, the difference can be difficult to comprehend. I saw this difference for the first time when a bunch of my college friends got together in Cape Cod for one last hoorah, before we all began our incredible journey into adulthood. Some of us would go to grad school, others law school. Some would travel to different countries, and a few would make the terrifying journey into the unknown. When I compare myself at the beginning of the fellowship to now, even though it has only been 7 weeks, the difference is astonishing.

When I first arrived, a scared little puppy dog I was. I didn't know where to get anything, who anybody was, and everything seemed so foreign and otherworldly to me. I'm still that same puppy dog today, except I'm house broken and understand where my turf begins and where it ends. To combat the homesickness and acclimate to my new environment, I have employed a number of strategies which I believe have worked quite well, at least when the tide is low.

First and foremost, staying in touch with friends and family is essential. It's something that is very easy to do, you just have to put in a little effort. The interesting conversations about scandals in my hometown, eggplants, franken-Jeeps coming to life, new love interests, and even the forensic dissection of bodies as a career path have all been extremely comforting (maybe with the exception of that last one).

Hobbies have been an incredible deterrent of homesickness, even when it's just the pursuit of a hobby and not the actual thing. Ever since freshman year of high school, I have loved to draw. I was fortunate enough to have an art teacher that pushed me, and convinced me that I had a talent for it. But I wasn't always happy with how my drawings came out (I consider myself a fierce perfectionist). Now that I have the discipline to practice every day, I make sure to create at least one sketch to continuously improve my abilities. Whether it's some ridiculous Rick and Morty character or pop culture icon, I absolutely love throwing on some music and getting lost in a graphite-coated page (my left hand also gets a coat).

For a number of years now, I have been an avid drummer, driving my parents and neighbors insane with the crashing of cymbals and thudding of base drums (sorry to anyone who lived in Fox last year). Even though I haven't had a chance to play since arriving in Siem Reap, I have been actively pursuing ways in which I can. I met with the owner of a recording studio in town, and he gave me an in-depth tour of where the magic happens, as well as the equipment and even acoustic design of where the artists play. Needless to say, it was extremely impressive. In the process of the tour I met an Australian who moved here three years ago and hasn't looked back (there's that magical allure of Siem Reap again). I was able to work out a $10/hour deal to play basically whenever I want, as along as they aren't working with a client. Playing the drums has always been my main source of entertainment and stress relief, and I cannot wait to go back and make those drums sing.

I recently learned about the open mic nights at a little restaurant called The Harbour, a pirate themed restaurant that sort of makes you feel like you're at Disney World, at least from the outside. Rather than just allowing random audience members to sing, the Harbour has plenty of instruments for people to play and experiment with. I checked out the place last night, but unfortunately there was already a band tearing it up on stage, and I did not get the chance to play their drums. I hope to get the chance to play at least one of these nights, and who knows, maybe I'll end up forming my own band. If there was one thing to take away from my experience thus far, it's that anything is possible.