I've been home for two days now. I was away for just over two weeks, two and a bit of the best weeks - catching up with friends, getting to know my family better and spending time with people I grew up with....

And that is the paradox that is my current reality. I'm home now, nearly 8000 miles (yes, I measure in miles now) from the place I grew up in. I'm home now, in an apartment on the west side of midtown, New York City. And it feels normal to say that.

This is what I experienced in going back to South Africa for the past two and bit weeks - a strong sense of being a visitor to my home country, and an attachment to the city where my life currently leaps and bounds.

On the way to the Gautrain to the airport in Joburg, my symbolic big sis, Tanya, said to me, "home is where the heart is". This is usually such a throwaway phrase - a cliche used to fill empty space without any substance or grace. At least that is how I always thought of it, as did she. But we realised something together. For the first time it suddenly had meaning to us. Home is absolutely where your heart is. That is not to say that I don't love South Africa. I do, very much so. But the passions of my heart, the ebbs and troughs, the pulse, the rythm, the beat... it's all here on these streets.

I learned much while I was in SA - I thought about choices, roots, family, cleavages (not those kind man), world perspective.... and of course, I learned that home is indeed where the heart is: the transient nature of things. Over the next few posts I hope to explore these themes, guided by the stream that was my two and a half weeks in the Republic.

Check out the pics from the trip here.