jiefo Blog

What does it mean to have a home?

A lot has happened since my last blog post in May. I had a fruitful and busy last few travel destinations: Philippines (beaches with friends); China (5 cities, to see my dad & family); Kuala Lumpur (to visit a close friend); and Thailand (2 weeks in Chiang Mai training Muay Thai with the mountain tribe warriors). In the past year alone I’ve been so fortunate to have visited 8 countries and 23 cities.

I was ultimately only able to complete two of my four big projects I had planned out back in February, but nonetheless my life was abundant with laughter, grace, tears—both happy and nostalgic/sorrow—and memories made.

Last year I deferred my acceptance to UC Berkeley Law and moved to Taipei. Last month I closed that very important chapter in my life in Asia and went home for the first time in a year; I hadn’t spent more than 4 months away from home before. I spent a short one week back at home, getting over jetlag while visiting as many hometown friends as I could, and of course eating at my mother’s newly opened restaurant every day.

My step-dad, mother, and I then prepared for the big move to my new life in Berkeley. We landed in San Francisco in the morning, got our keys to my unfurnished 1 bedroom, opened a bank account and phone number, and then hauled a truck full of furniture from IKEA. We stayed up till 2AM assembling the bed and couch which I slept on. Throughout the week we transformed the apartment from an empty canvas into a home. 

In the past year, I have had to wrestle with the concept of what a “home” meant. When I first landed in Taipei, I didn’t have an apartment to live in. I did a sign and lease in person that week. I quickly familiarized myself with my neighborhood in NTNU, and that was my home for a year. 

But in my visits to my family in China, I felt at home too, surrounded by loved ones. From the old village with my grandparents to the big city with my dad, I felt like I belonged. I spent only two weeks in Chiang Mai, but when you train 5 hours a day with the same people, you quickly bond over a shared passion. My trainers reminded me to come back, because this was now a home to me. Back home in Vancouver was my familiar childhood: friends, bedroom, cats, family.

The concept of home to me—either by necessity or universality—has always transcended the physical boundaries of the house I lived in: from moving away from home for college, to studying abroad 5 times, to now again reviving my academic journey in California. Home isn’t confined by physical location but rather the community. Home is where I feel safe and loved. It is such an immense privilege to return home because home is where people who care about you are awaiting. It is a deep privilege and beauty to have a space where friends and family can gather and convene. 

To reach out a hand, to ask for friendship, to build a community takes courage. Right now, Berkeley does not feel like home—yet. But it’s my birthday this weekend, and I reached out to people to celebrate it together; and I plan to continue reaching out – I am confident and excited to build my new home here for the next three years.