When SLC felt like home...

Cross-posted to yankandbritlove, kinda.

When making a post to the above mentioned community, I decided to ask people a question which was posted in another comm that I'd seen recently, asking when the US/UK had felt like home to them, or when they'd felt like it could be home for them. This is my answer to my question, and I've actually told Mark about this before. :) For me, I think it was a moment from my first visit to the US, I was staying with jollycynic and winsomesquirrel at a house they shared with friends (diyeana and her sister) and one lazy, hot afternoon we were all napping, but due to my body clock not having adjusted from UK time, yet, I found myself unable to sleep. So I stayed awake and tried to watch some TV. But there wasn't really anything to watch. So I decided that it was about time I took a look around the neighbourhood myself. Previously whenever I'd left the house I'd done so with my fiance. So I grabbed my bag and my sandals, scribbled out a quick note to let Mark know where I was going and set off on my own for the first time.

It was pretty scary at first because I worried about getting lost and not being able to navigate the US streets to get back (at the time the whole grid-pattern street system and how to navigate with xxxS, xxxxW thing was a mystery to me). So I wrote down the address just in case I found myself lost and having to ask for directions. Then I set off in the direction we normally went in the car (at this point I decided I'd try and walk to the 7 Eleven a few blocks away and buy some snacks for later).

So I was walking down the sidewalk and turned the corner, where the sidewalk turned into a dust track, a true reminder that the city is on the edge of desert territory. I walked along assessing what I saw, the weather and how it all felt to me, when I saw an old man sitting in the shade under a old porch watching as I walked past and smiled and waved as I went by. I returned the wave and smile, and it was really at that point that I thought even though this place was completely different to anything from the UK and 'home', I could live here happily and also call this place home (for those interested in the conclusion of the story. I got to the 7 Eleven safely, had a few younger girls stare at me as I walked past, I guess English girls look different or something? When I got there I got some sour cream Lays and a Mountain Dew and paid with the dollar bills my mum had given me from when she and my dad went to the US "in case I was hungry and needed to get something at the airport". :) I then found my way safely back 'home'). :)

I know a few people on my flist have moved countries before, for you, when was the first moment you felt it was home?