Coming home after travel is always bittersweet, emphasis on the bitter. I have only ever felt homesick on one of my travels, with ever other trip being clouded by a strong pang at the thought of coming home. 

I recently came home from visiting Timor Leste, the country my parents were born in. The history of the country is twisted and interesting, not completely incomparable to other countries that have experienced war and colonialism, however it stands out (or rather, doesn't stand out at all) because of the size of the country. With a population of only 1.3 million people, a tiny island occupying the earth and a blimp in the world's economic system, it's a country that not many people have heard of, let alone know the story behind. 

My whole life I have told people I am of Timorese nationality. However, after visiting the country, I feel like an imposter. Apart from the untouched beaches surrounded by mountains, crystal clear waters, organic tropical produce and the relief of a tourist-filled island, the souvenir that left me in most awe after visiting was the people of Timor. They are entirely filled with kindness, friendliness, happiness, smiles and community. While simultaneously having a fire in their spirit that has allowed them to not just survive, but conquer all the challenges they have faced in the past 30 years. They have built their country from the ground up in the past 20 years with minimal outside help, apart from very miniscule aid from the United Nations and some aid from Australia. There is still so much I am processing through from everything I have experienced and witnessed during my short-time in Timor Leste, but I can already see this is the beginning of a life-changing adventure.