As you may have noticed, it's been half a year since my last post. My last post about tea was the dawn of a new adventure. After a series of transformative events in Minnesota, I packed up my life in a matter of days and relocated to the fabulous Las Vegas. My sister, B, moved to Las Vegas almost 6 years ago and I missed her so much, so I got a one-way ticket to Nevada!

Traveling artist capturing my move to Las Vegas

I've heard stories, read books, and watched films where main characters bravely thrust themselves into the unknown. My own parents uprooted themselves from Guyana in their 20s to come to America, with nothing but a few suitcases in hand, not knowing what they will do or what will happen - they were so brave.

I’ve always told myself that if an opportunity for me to step out of my comfort zone and hurl myself into the ocean of unknown presented itself, that I would go for it, my mantra: “Whatever is out there, whatever happens, if I get lost, at least I know the way home.” So I jumped into the unknown. By the way, I realize that moving from the Midwest to the Wild West is nothing like what my parents did, but it was a big step for me.

Minnesota has always been my home, and it still is, but my move to Las Vegas has expanded my idea of home in a way I never thought of. Home is so much more than just a permanent place to live. It’s family, community, and myself. I did not truly understand home until I no longer lived in MN. I have been in Nevada now for 9 months now, and during this time I have gained a family, fought beside, mourned with, and been embraced, by my new community. I’ve also found a grounded home inside myself through the things that tie me to my ancestors and culture.

I used to HATE when my dad would wake us up by blasting old school rum shop songs at 7am on a Saturday. Now, I find myself blasting those same chunes* unapologetically whilst shaking my high bun, driving down the Las Vegas Strip. Mumsy Khan used to make me tea every night before bed. Now, I indulge in a warm cup of chai at work meetings or on dates. These are just some of the many things that make my own self a place of home.

I still make curry at least once a week and plan on bringing curry to every holiday potluck I’m invited to. With Las Vegas being such a transient place, someone is always coming or going; some people don’t consider it home; and neither did I when I first arrived.

My home will always be Minnesota, but home also means Nevada. Home is where a nice steaming pot of curry and basmati rice is, and home is where I am.