Last night, I went for dinner with some of my housemate’s friends. There were two Spaniards, a South African, a Turk, one Italian and two Polish, along with me (Australian-Indian) and my housemate (Korean). A more diverse bunch in so few I don’t think I’ve ever seen, crammed into a little London kitchen.
It’s amazing to see the world through the independent migrant’s eyes – even though I’m an immigrant in Australia, having lived there for so long and being with the family means that it’s not too far off “ordinary life” (for a given value of ordinary, of course). Here however, with no family nor close friends when most land up here, you very quickly establish close relationships, especially with those you live with. Should a new migrant walk in the door (in this case, me), they’re all very quick to open up and welcome gladly – it’s as though they’re saying, “here’s another like us; welcome, we know what you’re going through.”
It’s a whole world I never knew existed, and it’s gratifying to see it and be a part of it. (apologies for the clumsy writing, the head’s not in it today)