At that time, she was full of expectations - she dreamed of new experiences, new friendships and a world that would allow her to develop and grow. But when she arrived abroad, she quickly realised that this journey would be much more profound than she had imagined.
The family she worked for had two children. At first, she quickly became involved in their lives - looking after them, playing with them and helping around the house. But in the moments of silence, when the children were asleep and the house was (for)quiet, she felt she was missing something.
It was something she couldn't fix by smiling or caring for others.
She missed her home country, the food, the conversations with her family, the smell of freshly cut grass and the noise coming from the street in her hometown. She missed Slovenia.
The emotion of being far from home was overwhelming her soul.
Even geographical and geographical borders seemed impassable to her. Even though she was in England, part of her heart always returned home to Slovenia. The feeling of familiarity, of belonging to her country and place, was deeply rooted in her. It wasn't just about a place, it was about a sense of belonging - to the people you know, to the land that shapes you and to the culture that surrounds you. It was all part of her and it was (also) as if a part of her had always been missing since she had been away.
In England, everything was foreign - the house, the people, the sounds, even the weather. The memory of her home country was like a silent song that always played in her heart, but she could not share it with anyone.
Sitting alone, in that silence, in a strange house, surrounded by strange objects and strange people, she realised that Slovenia was something that had always been present in her heart. It was not just a geographical point of departure for her, but something she carried with her everywhere - the memory of the green landscape, the smell of the forest after the rain, the rushing rivers and the mountains touching the sky on a clear morning. This was Slovenia as she felt it in her soul, not as a place but as a part of herself, something she loved immeasurably, something that had been so close to her since childhood that she could not imagine life without this sense of belonging.
Home was not just where she grew up. And even though she was in a foreign world, that sense of belonging was always present, always alive, always somewhere in the depths of her heart. It was not just a nostalgic thought of home, but a longing for something that could not be replaced. Homeland was not (only) the past - it was part of her, something that had shaped her and that had shaped her life.
One evening, she was sitting on her bed, looking out of the window. Her strength was failing from a hard day's work. Slowly, she closed her eyes and felt how much Slovenia was part of her. Through the silence she heard the sound of her home mountain - and she realised that Slovenia was not just a country, but every thought, every wish and every emotion she carried inside her.
It was not just a love of country and home, but a love of something inseparable from it - its roots, its history, everything it meant to it. For her, her homeland was not just a physical place, but a whole system of values that shaped her world view, her loyalty, her integrity. And this belonging was not something that could be abandoned or replaced. Slovenia was with her everywhere. She was a part of it and she could not lose that feeling even if she were still thousands of kilometres away.
When she wrote her letter home, she wrote not just about her daily chores, but about how she had changed. About how Slovenia was always with her, even in the most difficult moments, in all its forms. She longed for it in a way that was not just a connection with the past, but a love for something that had grown in her endlessly.
Through her life's (re)experience, she has learnt that belonging is not something you are born with or a place you visit, but something you carry with you - no matter where you are.
Let us belong to our country.
Zala Krupljan, 11. 3. 2025
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