DIANE SABENACIO NITITHAM explains why the comforts of home mean so much to her...
My participation in sports is quite limited. It’s not that I’m not fond of sports – I am just not very good at them, and have often shied away. Aside from my full support of the Chicago Bulls (especially during the ’91–’93 and ’96–’98 Championships), I’ve never considered myself a sports fan.
Of course this has not stopped me from cheering on the sidelines – particularly during my years on the high school dance team, where we performed at pep rallies, in-school fundraising events and at halftime for our sports teams, getting our fellow students in high spirits. We also performed at local universities during basketball season, alongside the university’s cheerleaders. It was great being part of the dance team, working with one another to support the sports team and keep the crowd energetic.
Even though my experience with sports is not extensive, as of late I have been getting into baseball, and have become a huge Chicago Cubs fan. I come from the northside of Chicago, which supports the Cubs – the Chicago White Sox are located on the southside. I would say, pretty decisively, that I’ve been a Cubs fan since I was young. However, it is only since the start of this baseball season that I’ve become a much bigger supporter.
While I was in Chicago in June and July, I attended a Cubs game at their home stadium, Wrigley Field. Upon our arrival, my boyfriend and I made sure to get our Cubs gear for the game. I picked up the standard blue hat, while Kevin found a white Cubs cap with a shamrock. The atmosphere was fun: the Cubs warming up on the field, people cheering and shouting, everyone singing ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’ during the seventh-inning stretch, and my yelling for the hot dog vendor to come my way again and again. The joyful spirit of the crowd made the experience very memorable.
Even as I’ve made my way back to Ireland, I’ve kept my Cubs hat at my side. Kevin thinks it’s a bit odd that I have suddenly become a huge Cubs fan, that I’ve started reading the sports news a little more often and watching games on TV. But I feel that this attachment helps me feel close to my hometown, and it also feels great to be part of something, whether as part of a team or a lively crowd. Baseball isn’t the only sport I’ve experienced, as I recently went to a couple of Shamrock Rovers matches with my friend Ross and his parents. It was not only great to be with regular supporters of the team, but it was also nice to spend time with his family. I had a moment a couple of weeks back at a match, while sitting between Ross and his mother. I thought to myself, ‘Wow, this is really nice.’ I don’t like to think about how difficult it is being away from my family and friends. But feeling part of the crowd, as well as seeing Ross with his parents, I felt a strange mixture of comfort and sadness. I felt a bit more at home, but it also made me long for what I left behind in Chicago.
I had only been back in Dublin a week after over a month at home, and I was still feeling a little bit of heartache. I started tearing up before Ross elbowed me to say something, taking me out of my nostalgic dream-like state. Although crying at the match would probably not have been received very well, I am grateful that I did feel that strange mixture of emotions. As conflicting as it was, the kind and welcoming gestures of Ross and his parents have made day-to-day living so much easier.
Missing home while conducting research on the concepts of home and belonging for Filipinas in Ireland makes living a challenge for me, although it is meaningful and insightful. Speaking with Filipinas about being separated from extended family hits me especially hard, as it is not only heartwrenching but also something I can identify with. It is partly my story, my parents’ stories and aunts’ and uncles’ stories, as they live in many countries around the world, sending money ‘home’. All this keeps me on that emotional edge, much of which I keep to myself – which is why I strongly believe if Ross hadn’t nudged me, I probably would have cried for a good long while at that match.
In the meantime, I’m doing my best to create a safe space for myself here. While I was packing to return from Chicago, I brought much of my bedroom décor from my parents’ house. My parents thought I was a bit silly to bring my cushions, as I squeezed them into the suitcase, trying to convince them (and myself) that they pack flat. But they didn’t stop me, because they knew I wanted a little piece of home. The cushions now happily sit on my sitting room couch, awaiting my return every evening.
The Cubs hat, the Shamrock Rovers matches, the cushions in my sitting room – these things might be small, but they help to create a consoling and psychological pillow for me to rest my head. My emotions, wavering on a blurry line between comfort, nostalgia and homesickness, create many opportunities for me to be incredibly happy but at the same time, in a constant state of yearning. That yearning is for a piece of home I hope to fulfil during my time here in Ireland.
