back home!

It was incredible how quickly I slotted back into my life in the UK – I remember sitting on the plane and daydreaming about what things I would buy when I finally entered Waitrose again (humous, coleslaw and cheese). But when I did get there, I had already turned into a usual shopper, trying to get round as fast as I could to leave as quickly as possible.

I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me when I sat on a south-west trains service at Epsom station again, as it used to be my second home. Let me tell you, that did not last very long – just until someone started talking very loudly on their mobile in an otherwise silent carriage, and I rediscovered my commuter persona and exceedingly low annoyance threshold.

My first day back was slightly surreal – the sense of freedom when I went for a run was amazing! (But don’t ask how far I was actually able to run after 5 months of no exercise. My excuse was that I couldn’t actually run on the common as it was so muddy). And it was great to go to church without a sense of fear, even slight, that I could be blown up. Needless to say it was great seeing my family and friends again. And I experienced all types of English weather possible – howling wind, hail, snow, rain and even a little bit of sun.

I did face a few problems that I didn’t foresee. For example, what to say when people asked ‘how is Pakistan?’ Should I go with the truth: attack on an NGO near where I worked, evacuation, more threats, uncertainty, fear…? I tried that a couple of times but given that it was the ultimate conversation stopper I switched to the vague: ‘good, the weather in Islamabad is nice at this time of year..’ with a weak smile. Needless to say, this didn’t apply to all you lovely people who already read my blog. Re that, another VSO volunteer has put on her blog a list of people who obviously don’t read it because they keep asking her how it is going. I won’t resort to such a list of shame yet, as it would be topped with a member of my own family (my parents asked me yesterday to make clear that it wasn't them. So that leaves......?!).

Anyway, so now I am back in Islamabad again, with mixed feelings. It was almost worse saying goodbye to people this time round than before. My brother managed to avoid a tearful goodbye by threatening mum with a snowball (who cowered behind the wheelie bin), chucking it, and then making a quick exit on his bike. That’s the way to go.