Bridge Project 1-Essay

I Hear Home

I can hear the birds, the waves and the leaves moving with the wind. I realise that I have forgotten to close my window. I can hear my father whistling the exact same notes as usual. The whistle fades away as he goes down the stairs and than I hear him closing the door; the whistle ends but the engine starts to scream. As he presses the pedal more and more, my ears fill with the sound of the engine. And it starts decreasing as he leaves the garage. Everything is very familiar, nothing unexpected, nothing that I can’t understand.

I hear words that I can’t even separate from each other. It sounds like letters without an order, words without space between them. I know that they have to mean something because there is a conversation going on between them. But I have no idea what it is about. Is it about me ? Is it about the school ? No idea… After two minutes of trying to wake up, the traffic noise starts to fill my ears like it never left. It is the only familiar sound in the room, which I can relate to.

I hear the waves, and the traffic as usual. People speaking in Turkish, I can understand every conversation around me, every single word ; nothing that I feel lost in. I can hear that the struggle between the fisherman and fishes go on for a while. He continues complaining as I walk by. Pretty sure that I will hear the same words tomorrow and they day after. I don’t know who he is, have no idea what his name is but he makes me realise that I am at home. He is the sense of finding familiarity in unfamiliarity.

As I stepped outside, I see people talking to each other all in different languages. Some that I can understand, some that I cannot even guess. I feel like I am living in different countries, experiencing different cultures at the same time. The sound of the traffic is still the only thing that makes me feel like I know this place. Somehow it makes me feel safe. As I walk, I see my classmates, they are rushing to class just like me. Something we have in common. But still too different; unfamiliar.

I am on my way home, the buss is full of the Turkish music that I am bored of hearing every time I get on this bus. As I cross through the streets, I start counting the seconds until I reach home. I ring the bell, that sharp sound starts to hurt my ear as it does every single day. When I got in the house, I can hear that my parents are watching the television and I don’t even feel the need of turning my head because I am pretty sure what they are watching, I can just manage to figure it out from the names flying around. As I climb the stairs, I can hear my sister listen to her favourite song. Finally, I reach my room, close the door and listen to the leaves dancing with the wind. Makes me feel calmer and relieved. The wind closes my eyes as it continue to touch the leaves.

I get out of the class, the only goal is to get to my dorm as quick as possible. I want to listen to my music, the Turkish sounds that I miss. I can’t wait to be able to understand every word again. I sit down by the table as soon as I get in. Listening to my roommates speak until I am done with my work. Even though I can’t understand them, I can easily guess that they are complaining about the work they have to do. The second I am done with this day full of classes and projects, I rush to my bed. My roommate is inside, watching something, probably a series with all of these complicated words. After getting ready to go in bed, I start playing the music I looked forward all day to listen to. As I start following up with the lyrics, the music starts to get lower and lower.

Everyday I used to walk by these sounds but never realised it. Never thought about how important they were, how they made me feel. Now I realise that I am missing it all, that I am used to hearing fisherman on the street and the music on the buss. I wish I could hear them now, but I know, I will hear them louder and clearer when I go back home. I will take a minute just to hear everything going on around me, everything that makes me realise that I am at home. I am where I was born and raised. I heard those sounds almost for my entire life. I grew up with that music, I watched those tv shows every week, I took the same buss five days a week, I rang that bell every single day of my life.

Hearing those sounds made me who I am. Waking up to the sound my father whistling made me love the mornings, hearing the waves made me feel free, sensing the wind made me feel limitless. I wouldn’t be me if only one of them were missing. New York is a whole new chapter for me, it’s the struggle trying to get use to sounds I never heard before, people I never met, places I have never been. Now, it is my new home which I am trying to listen without missing any sound. I will feel more secure and confident every time I hear a new sound. The sound of New York will make me feel at home.

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