I am a stranger in a familiar land. Every village, every town and every person we pass along the road seem familiar and yet, strangely different. I hear the children laughing, playing as the adults continue their daily conversations. And then it hits me. For the most part, I can understand them. Their words, intonations, their flexing of consonants and vowels somehow awaken a dormant spirit within me longing to reconnect. I am here in my parents.’ homeland. Between wandering imagination and presence, I am at peace, content that I am a welcomed stranger with my people. I am familiar and different to them as the are to me. Sonla – how beautiful you are.