Questions of home

For most people the word 'home' has a pretty straightforward meaning but in my case it's the cause of some confusion. Do I have two homes, or none at all? Is home the city where our recently-bought house is located or do I find it in the country where my family lives? Will New Zealand ever become as much home as Belgium, my place of birth? I'm really comfortable being an immigrant in NZ, but whenever I return to Flanders the inevitable questions of where exactly I belong or feel most at 'home' pop up. I still haven't figured out the answer but realise that after all these years fitting back to life in Belgium takes a lot of adjusting, like trying on an old favourite jacket that doesn't quite fit anymore. I read a wonderful book about the immigrant dilemma during our trip - Tropical Fish by Ugandan author Doreen Baingana. These lines resonated with me and illustrate that for immigrants 'home' can be a complex issue:

Christine could not help noticing what had been so ordinary years before. One day, all this vibrancy, this living chaos, would be normal again. One day. In the mean time she would have to learn all over again how to live in this new old place called home.