Juba 1997.aastal rääkisin ma vahetusõpilasena uhkelt kõikidele, keda huvitas või kes oskasid huvi teeselda uhkelt kui tore Eestis elada on. Muidugi lähen ma Eestisse tagasi, vastasin ma natuke solvunult, kui mult küsiti, kas tahaksin Norrasse elama jääda, nüüd kui ka keelt oskan. Miks ma peaksin tahtma mujal elada olles eestlane, pööritasin ma silmi. Ega see tunne kuhugi ei kadunud, olen ikka Eesti patrioot ka edasi olnud – pean au sees laulupidusid, arvan, et meil on kõige ilusam hümn (peale Soome võib olla), olen uhke eestlaste saavutuste üle ning armastan Eesti kööki, muusikat, kunsti. Alati on hea koju tulla.
Viimasel ajal olen ma aga hakanud mõtlema, et mulle meeldibki mõte tulla koju, mitte tulla Eestisse. Seda on tegelikult endale ja teistele kurb tunnistada, aga ma olen hakanud Eestist kaugenema. Kodu ja pere on tähtsad, aga Eestiga on mu armastussuhe jahenemas. Ma ei tea täpselt, millest see on tingitud, aga viimasel ajal on mind midagi häirima hakanud. Sõitsime eelmisel nädalal laevast maha ja õde ütles õigesti “jälle see hall Eesti”. Võib olla häiribki mind see Eesti viiskümmend halli varjundit. Mitte ainult ilm, vaid olek ja hoiakud, suhtumine. Kõik on ükskõikne, morn ja õel. Eestis elades ei saa sellest aru, sest ise muutud samasuguseks. See üldine õelus neelab kõik endasse. Sellet saab eriti aru kui oled eemal olnud Eestist.
Eile seisin ma Chicagos keset tänavat ja püüdsin telefonist aru saada, mis suunas ma minema pean. Ma nägin turist välja, loomulikult. Juba esimene inimene, kes must möödus, peatus ja küsis, kas ma vajan abi ja juhatas mind lahkelt õiges suunas. Kodutut Anthonyt, kes mind hotelli juhatas, mäletate? Samal ajal loen ma Eestis uudist, et möödakäijad ei peatu isegi vanainimesest, kes libedaga on pikali kukkunud ega saa püsti. Joodik või kodutu, mõeldakse ja kõnnitakse mööda. Hall sügis ja vihmane talv ei aita minu tunnetele just kaasa. Dubais lennukisse istudes mõtlesin ma kadedusega nende eestlaste peale, kellega seal kohtusin ja kes seal elasid. Veab neil, mõtlesin ma. Ma tahaksin ka, et töö mind sinna elama viiks. Või jumala eest, miks mitte USA-sse. Ei, ma ei ole pimestatud suurlinna tuledest, ma mõtlen lihtsalt, miks me üldse Eestis elame. Sest meie kodu on siin? Aga kodu ei pea ju Eestis olema?
Veidrad mõtted (mitte esimest korda) koduteel kui mu ainus mõte on, et palun Nordica hiline, sest ma ei taha viimasest lennust maha jääda. Ma olen eilsest saadik liiga palju lennujaamades oodanud (dämn droonid!), ma tahan koju. Ma tunnen puudust oma jonnakast kelmikast sarmikast Idast ja Mr. Poppinsist ka natuke. Aga ma ei tunne puudust inimestest, kes mornilt poes kassasabas seisavad ja müüjale naeratada ei oska.
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Already on 1997, when I was an exchange student in Norway, I told proudly everyone who wanted to listen or pretended to be interested in listening how good it is to live in Estonia. I always replied “of course I will go back”, sometimes feeling a bit insulted, when I was asked whether I wanted to stay in Norway. “Why would I want to live somewhere else if I’m Estonian” I couldn’t stop but wonder. This feeling has not gone anywhere, I am still patriot to Estonia – I enjoy the singing festivals, think that our national anthem is the prettiest (expect for Finnish maybe), I am proud of what Estonians have achieved and absolutely love Estonian cuisine, music, art. It always feels good to come home.
Recently I have realized that I like the thought of coming home, but not coming to Estonia. It is actually sad to admit to myself and also to others, but I have started to move away from Estonia. My home and my family are important, but my love affair with Estonia is starting to fade. I am not really sure what is the cause for all this, but something has started to bother me. We arrived back to Estonia last week with my sister and when driving off from the ferry she said the golden words “this grey Estonia again.” Maybe this is what is bothering me, the fifty shades on Estonia? I am not only talking about the weather, but also the way people are and their attitude. Everything is numb and apathetic, angry and mean. When you live in Estonia, you don’t sense this, because you become one with all this. This overall bitterness is swallowing everything. And you understand this when you have been away.
Couple of days ago I was stood in Chicago in the middle of the street trying to understand which way my phone is directing me. Obviously I looked like a tourist. Already the first person, who passed me, stopped to ask if I needed any help and kindly led me into the right direction. He was a homeless guy called Anthony. Meanwhile I read news in Estonia about how people walked pass an elderly person who had slipped, fallen down and couldn’t get up. “Drunk or homeless” is what they were probably thinking and just kept walking. Grey autumns and rainy winters don’t really make things better. When I was flying back from Dubai, I was so jealous of those Estonians who I met and who lived there. How lucky are they. I wish my work could take me to live there or why not even to America. I am not blinded by the city lights, I am just thinking why do we live in Estonia? Because our home is here? But home doesn’t necessarily have to be in Estonia does it?
Weird thoughts (not the first time) on my way back home when my only wish was for the last connecting flight to be delayed, because I didn’t fancy spending a night in the airport. Since yesterday I have spent too much time waiting in the airports, I want to go home! I miss my stubborn crazy Ida and I miss Mr. Poppins too, a little bit. But I don’t miss all these people standing in queues with their long faces who cannot spare a smile to the cashier.
