I’ve spent seven months in Australia and elsewhere, but a paltry two days now stand between me and repatriation. The time has come to reflect on how my outlook has changed as a result and perhaps get a little sentimental in the process.It certainly bears repeating that when it comes to living abroad, what you really notice are “the little things,” and these are the things I miss about home.I’ve contemplated the size of Australian money and thought, “Silly backward Aussies! Their bills are too square. I can’t wait to get back to the States where paper money is longer and thinner like it’s supposed to be.” I’m positive there is something inherently better about calling diapers “diapers” instead of “nappies.” Other American exclusives my heart yearns for include Hershey’s kisses, big lawns, free local calls, “have a nice day,” the potential that the next elected official could be a pro wrestler, wide and well-marked roads, Conan O’Brian, cheap gas, low taxes, male thigh exposure taboos, the ozone layer, widespread wearing and acceptance of tennis shoes, attentive wait staff, football (the kind that’s not boring), paper money in small denominations, good peanut butter, Perkin’s, telephones everywhere, four-way stops, infomercials, hot dogs made from the nasty parts of pigs, but not the really, really, really nasty parts, 24-hour everything and unbridled condiment generosity.Of course, there are some little things I’ve come to favor about Australia and I will miss them. I find that spelling checks as “cheques” is more sophisticated than “checks.” Also Sorry Day, a holiday where Australians lament their poor relationship with the natives, seems more appropriate than Thanksgiving. Further fond bits of Australiacana include: 30 cent ice cream cones, Burgo’s Catchphrase, “no worries”, perpetual clear skies, casual attitudes, the texture of eucalyptus leaves, interest in American politics, bakeries, good public transportation, Sydney Harbor, occasionally being called “Lovey,” taking a ferry to work, bizarre foreign movies every night on TV, beach culture, two flushing options, three public trash can options, Australian humor, Fatso the Fat-arsed Wombat, beeping cross-walks, goofy place names, impossibly cute animals and the KFC commercial in which Colonel Sanders says, honest to God, “Let’s haul ass!” Perhaps though, there is something disappointing about doing something so dramatic as leaving the continent for half a year only to appreciate such “little differences.” Going abroad is often billed as a way to gain a completely new perspective on life by dealing with the challenging differences of an entirely different culture. Australia, however, is not an entirely different culture. It is subtly different. To be perfectly honest, unless the realization that societies can hold together calling fries “chips” and chips “crisps” completely blows your mind, going to a thoroughly Westernized country like Australia will probably not mold you into a new human being. I’ve changed little, only subtly. If you are contemplating going abroad in the West to become a new person or to acquire some sort of impressive intellectual worldliness I suspect you will come back disappointed. If you go, go for fun. Go as an indulgence of your freedom and youth.Having said this, though, I can attest that I have benefited greatly from my time abroad, and not merely in a hedonistic or transient way. I saw many amazing things while traveling: Mt. Fuji, the Great Barrier Reef, Stonehenge, and an Olympic games. But experiencing these things in themselves was not nearly so enriching as the realization that seeing them wasn’t really that important. The thing that will really stick with me is a feeling I’d describe as traveler’s loneliness: the hollowness of frequently doing things without people, or at least without the people who are most important. I did have some great people with me abroad and it was when I did things with them that I had truly fulfilling experiences, but having an entire planet between myself and my network of friends and family at home was something that often weighed heavily on me, even when I was experiencing things that were once-in-a-lifetime. What’s come out of this loneliness has been simply, but profoundly, an appreciation of those close to me. It is easy to tell yourself to appreciate the your friends and family, and no doubt the idea sounds mind-numbingly trite here on paper, but, for me, the experience of being abroad for seven months put substance behind the platitude. Surely, one doesn’t need to go all the way around the world in order to know how good they’ve got it back home, but for me, it certainly helped. George Moore said, “A man travels the world in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.” While I may not be a new man for my experiences, I believe I know what he means.