Returning home

Returning home after weeks living in the English city of Portsmouth, was NOT was I expected. To illustrate this in words, I think it is a good idea to speak of my expectations.
I expected Aalborg, where I studied and lived for four years, to be the same as it was when I left. I suspected that I might return to my old patterns. These were both patterns of thought and action.
As it turned out, my expectations had no hold in reality. The world changes and I have changed since I left, so to suspect a relation to be the same was quite naive. Furthermore, the reason why I was in Aalborg was now completely different.
Before I left I decided that I wanted to share the Aalborg I know. I wanted everyone to feel that my home was their home. This was quite a big goal for a trip of 7 days. This sharing was a sharing of everything. I shared my friends, who willingly and selflessly shared themselves. I shared information on secret spaces in the city, and the city opened up. Nothing seemed to be able to go wrong and nothing did.
What I find interesting of this experience, reflecting on it, is that I saw the city in a whole new light. I shared, but what I shared returned to me in different shapes and form and with more intensity. I made new friends; I learned to know my old friends anew. The city surprised me and overwhelmed me and won me over. The city is still rough, still dirty, still tough: but if you are to scratch a little in the dirt, the most amazing things come into the light. The wonderful thing is that I did not expect it.