I have shared beers in Uruguay with Brazilians as news broke our country allegedly had spied on their country. I have shared naan in India with an Afghani during the U.S. war in Afghanistan. It's hard to see a map's lines once you have shared a meal across borders.
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?