Home, this must be the place.

In Bangalore I spent the majority of my stay in bed, and I had plenty of time to think. Here's what I came up with. Before coming to India I was at a money exchange in Melbourne and talking to the Indian woman behind the counter. It was another one of those instances where someone was showering me with advice, despite my best efforts. This time we were talking about money and the conversation went something along the lines of:
 Her: 'Ma'am you will need money when you get to India'
Me: head nod
Her: 'You do not want to get to India and have no money'
Me: head nod
Her: 'If you have no money in India, nobody cares about you, nobody wants to know you'
Me: head nod, okay I get it. One needs money to get by in India.

 Now I understand what she was drilling into me, the gap between rich and poor is so extreme that people haggle, beg and hawk to get money and food, right outside shops selling Gucci bags from glitzy shop fronts. Seems outrageous when you think about it. There are an estimated 32.7% of people in India living below the poverty line and when you are in the thick of it you can see how humans make do with very little. Sometimes it is just the clothes on their back and a cardboard box shaped lovingly into a home. But that space is enough to call home. It is easy enough for me to swan in to a third world country having been brought up in a loving home, with food on the table and a comfortable bed to sleep in and despair at the 'sad state of the world'. However, I only have to walk onto the streets of Melbourne or Wellington to see that poverty and homelessness exist all around us.

Over the past year I have been contemplating the word home and the concept of home. While I live in Melbourne and think of this as my home, I also consider New Zealand, the Wairarapa and Wellington my home. I am happiest when I can build a home around me. It's the love, the connection and belonging I feel that makes me feel at home. Several months ago I asked my friends what home meant to them. There were those that though of home as being something to do with comfort, safety and sleeping. While others associated home with family and love. Lastly there were those who thought of home as being a place, such as Aotearoa. Or simply home itself. All of these things are reliant on a person having a concept of home and after coming to India and seeing so many people sleeping on the streets and without a physical home I am reminded that while not everybody has a home, we all have our own experiences and stories to tell. This is why home means something different to everyone. My friend Charlotte was once asked  if she'd missed her home while she was living in Thailand and she said 'but home is where I am, I am home'. It stuck with me and I get it. We do what we can to create a home around us with the resources we have. Some of us do this on the streets and nurture the home in their hearts, while others  do this within institutions, and others within the walls of their house. Home is indeed where the heart is.

 I have written a playlist called homeward bound and here are a few goodies on the list:
 'Way Back Home' - Band of Horses
'Home, Land and Sea' - Trinity Roots
'Home' - Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeros

 Here are some lyrics from my favourite Talking Heads song 'This must be the place':

'Home, is where I want to be, but I guess I'm already there. I come home - she lifted up her wings, I guess that this must be the place'.