The sun will come out...

To my relief (and amazement after a long dark period), one day the clouds lift, I realise the sun does shine and I start to adjust, which is the longest phase. I find myself adapting every day and yet few days go by without my thinking or saying something about how it was “back in the colony on the Southernmost tip of the galaxy”.

I begin to look and feel like a New Planetarian, I dress the way they do, (although I draw a line at pink velour tracksuits, enormous silver hoop earrings and a belly button ring) I start to use colloquialisms, innit? At first I am unlucky enough (in my opinion) to be stuck in The Great Capital City but I master the supersonic underground transportation pod, start calling it the “Tube”, and begin to hate it like a true Native. I learn how to make polite conversation with strangers by instantly talking about the weather, I learn to queue...at the bus stop, at the supermarket, at the doctor’s surgery, on a hospital waiting list, outside a stadium in the pouring rain en route to a footy match or musical gig. And I do it without complaining (much).

I look the part, I’ve got the jargon down pat, I’ve mastered the system and yet as soon as I open my mouth I identify myself as an alien from another planet. I wonder if anyone ever truly feels part of their new planet, when their accent (unless an alien has the ability to change it like a certain blonde Amazon across the waters does) will always give them away.