Moving can be a tricky thing, a nerve racking and strange experience. It took me quite a while to really appreciate the joys of living in another country. That may sound weird but seriously, we underestimate the level of comfort we get ourselves into living our 20+ lives within the same surroundings.
Not really sure where I wanted to take this, but it all comes from a conversation I had with an elder German the other night, he was telling me about his life in East Germany and how for him the Soviet System worked. He hated the fall of the wall, he knew a lot of bad would come when the Iron Curtain fell but in his little world everything seemed to work; it worked for him, it was his comfort. Too often have I heard of the atrocities of WWII and of the Soviet Union but never have I spoken to those who lived and breathed during those tumultuous times. It made me think about home. Not that the East Bloc reminds me of The Black Country, but it made me think about what makes a home? This older gentleman told me it has never really felt right for him since the fall in '89, he knew people that committed suicide as the future was too much to bare thinking about.
Where do you call home?
The Foul Entertainment off-shore reporter, Abdurahman is currently living in Berlin and has done the round of many European countries. He is currently working on a travel/tech hybrid column for the blogs page.