As an international student, it was hard to relate to people who didn't understand the setting I came from. I'd sometimes find myself using a word from my language that didn't have a direct translation in English. Or feeling the need to reference something from back home.
What is home, anyhow? I was lonesome for Europe for 30 years after returning to the States. Finally I am back here. Sometimes it's hard, but sometimes it's glorious. What does it matter when or where we die?