“I knew I’d see Kelly. I called it.”
“Poor girl! Missing the Pipe Masters ;-)”
“So, good news is I camped on the beach, watched the eclipse, and saw Slater get his ass kicked…”
Facebook status’, messages and comments were blowing up my newsfeed and wall, all of which revolved around the Pipe Masters 2011. Pipe Masters is an annual surf competition held on the North Shore, Oahu, Hawai’i, and is part of the ASP Men’s world Tour. Friends both near and far reminded me that I could not soak in the rays of the warm sun, sink into the white sandy beaches, glide to and fro with the ever changing motion of the ocean, and hear the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore.
It was Saturday, December 10, 2011 and I had just returned to my hut after waving goodbye and watching my friends cross the Lomahasha border to enjoy a week in the beautiful crystal clear, warm waters of the Indian Ocean in Tofo, Mozambique. Homesick I did the only thing I can in such circumstances, turn on a surf movie and wallow in my misery. The movie of choice: Soul Surfer.
Soul Surfer is a story about Bethany Hamilton, a teenage girl on Kauai who lost an arm in a shark attack and follows her emotional, physical, and spiritual journey to fulfilling her dream and becoming a professional surfer. It’s a terrible movie choice for a girl LONGING to be reunited with the ocean. As soon as the movie began I started bawling uncontrollably like a big baby. Following the shark attack scene where I was gasping and had to pause the movie in order to wipe my eyes clear and see the screen, a friend called trying to finalize party plans. I successfully turned my crying voice into a sick voice. Definitely better acting than in the movie. But that is neither here nor there. I proceeded to watch the movie twice along with Brokedown Melody and Surfwise. After spending the entire afternoon crying my heart out, a peace overcame me. A peace from knowing I’ll be reunited with the sea soon enough.
Bethany says something in the beginning of the movie that I loved. She says, “Most people think of home as 4 walls. I think of it as the ocean.” I could not relate more. When I explain to people that my homesickness is not necessarily about my house, family, friends or a specific place but rather about the ocean, I usually get strange looks and the response, “what?!” Most people can’t relate and therefore don’t understand. Especially here in Swaziland, a landlocked country where the ocean in and of itself is an abstract concept. So what does it mean to me? It means love, life, happiness, wonder, mystery, respect, and an understanding and appreciation of something greater than us- God. It means the countless weekends spent surfing, playing and growing up at Puamana, camping on the beach with friends, surfing before, after and the occasional during school, BBQs, boating, swimming with dolphins, honus, humpback whales and sharks, family bonding, friendships strengthening and never missing an opportunity. The ocean was the place I’d go to clear my head, think, and gain perspective. The ocean is my home and I never feel more at peace than when I’m dancing with the sea.
So in my troubled days when all I do is dream of the ocean, I remember home is never too far away. No matter if it’s through a movie, across Mozambique, drive through South Africa, or a flight half way across the world, I will find peace where the land meets the sea.
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