Thursday, November 8, 2012


This is a chapter worth skipping as I am about to tread past blogging SOP and move back to how I once wrote online, back when nobody read my rambles and I was much more intense/intimate with life. It has been almost three years that I/we have been moving about and around Italy. Rome is treating us well, fairest weather, vibrant and crazy. It reminds me a little bit of another crazy capital - Manila, ten times more wacky where I last spent my days before I made this big move.

It has been several months now that I have been planning/anticipating our trip back to the Philippines. A year over after giving birth to our son now big enough to fly halfway across the planet, I’m more than excited to have him see and meet the big circle of friends and family back in the place I so dearly call home. Unfortunately we won’t be able to make the trip as a change of priorities and plans are set in motion.

Truth is, I never really thought I would be “living” my life in Italy. I didn’t realize this consequence of our marriage. Both of us being such nomads, I expected we would be moving about but I always knew my point of origin was still among these string of islands, the comfortable vicinity of sea and coconuts and laughter and friendship. I know this clearly now. Despite embracing and adopting this second “home”, I cannot lie. A part of me is anchored firmly in those shores.

I write to let go. This is my letter. So much of memory and nostalgia is holding me back from truly living and being here where I am. Come to think of it, the whole world is our home. A true nomad knows this. For this I can stop waiting for that distant trip and consider these moments, these times so ripe for building a life.


Tamsin Hickson said...

Oh Kat - one of the hardest things about living in different places is missing the places where you lived before. Although there always is that thread of sadness, to balance with the joy and positive side of new things, memory and nostalgia tend to ebb and flow with the tides of your life. I have felt for a long time that there is a great richness to living in Europe when you were born and grew up elsewhere, so that you always carry those memories within you. And one day it will become easy for you to go back - there is nothing more anchoring than small children! As they grow, you become freer and freer.

francesco conte said...

Katri Katri, think of it, we're growing a nomad boy as well, and he can't wait to eat fresh coconuts! I am sure we'll make it sooner than we expect

Katerina Bon Vora said...

Hi Tamsin! so nice to hear from you. Kids as anchors - literally! this boy is growing fast. I guess it just takes some practice and creative thinking. how you feel a great richness to living in Europe sounds like a beautiful way to think of life here - which is very true in many ways. I might just adopt that. :) hope we catch up sometime! maybe even over the holidays as we might be spending it in Marche. hugs to you and everyone!

Ruthanne Martin said...

Cher Kat, wonderful to read this other side of your life & francesco is right you are growing a nomad boy...I was on a poetry tour in Ireland years ago and Ellen Burstyn (the actress) was on the tour as well and at the end we all talked about "home" and what it means and she grew up without a true sense of home, but in the end said "home is everywhere you are"...I think that is true! I'm much enjoying the photos you have been posting, only I am overwhelmed between my blog, FB and the tour photos and on and on. I feel like visiting your blog is like resting on an island with a coconut in each hand! xxxx rudy martin

Katerina Bon Vora said...

Sweet Rudy, thank you for your words. I never heard of a poetry tour but it sounds amazing! how did that go? have you gone to those dramatic cliffs in Ireland? I like the concept of "home is where you are" - rings bells everywhere. ;) Hugs to you, Kat

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