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Shares
The plane dropped below the clouds. In the light glow of the morning, I could finally catch my first glimpse of England. What I saw were fields- endless shades of green and brown, all neatly planted and mowed into perfectly spaced squares. A few rows behind me, an older English lady exclaimed, “Ah, we’re home!”. Her voice was full of contentment and happiness. I smiled, for to me home was palm trees, tourists, and ocean waves; yet something about the fields made me understand what she felt. Upon getting past the customs gate and officially entering England, I was almost immediately greeted by a huge portrait of Her Majesty the Queen. As I got closer, I could see that it was entirely comprised of small photos; men, women, children, all subjects of the longest-reigning British monarch. Their faces seemed to hold the same content and happiness expressed by the lady on the plane- “Ah, we’re home!” I finally reached the part of Gatwick Airport that contains the ticket counters and various souvenir shops. It was loud and bustling, as most international airports are, brimming with hundreds of diverse people. I made my way to my train counter, trying my best to blend in with this place and these people who all seemed so much more formal and proper than I was accustomed to. It didn’t help that they were, on the whole, better dressed as well. I boarded the overground train that would take me into London, and after a short delay we departed. I relaxed a bit and observed the people around me, each going about their normal routine. For me, this was a new experience; for them, just another normal day. The lady across the aisle was midway through the novel she was reading. The man next to me, dressed neatly in shirt, tie, and slacks, was napping with his earbuds in. The train was fairly quiet as sped along the route, passing crumbling brick walls covered in graffiti here, then neat little backyards with flower bushes there. I felt a strange sense of homesickness, not for my real home, but for this new place I had never been before. As the train came to a stop at Victoria Station, these people gathered their various briefcases and laptops and went on their way, as they did every day. I followed, feeling strangely that I would never belong, yet at the same time that I had come home.