Today marks six months since the day I left Peru. It seemed like an appropriate milestone to write a post about, and to start I want to tell you a little story.
This story didn't take place in the last six months. It didn't happen in Peru, either. It actually happened just four months shy of leaving the US and embarking on my two-year journey in Peace Corps. I considered not making it public knowledge (you'll soon see why), but after some reflection it seems appropriate.
It was early spring of 2011 in western Oregon, the sky a constant dull gray and days only changing from rain to mist to rain again. I worked at a coffee shop and distracted myself from leaving for Peace Corps by marathon training and keeping my hair a fiery "hot-tamale" red with nearly obsessive straight bangs. Anything, really, to make me feel like I was in control. But those things could only distract me so much. It was as if I was sliding down a hill that suddenly dropped off as a cliff, and I was clutching at anything to keep me in place. And it was in these gray, rainy days as I grew nearer my departure date into the great unknown that I visited a psychic in Portland.
(I could hear your eyes rolling from here. Humor me and read on.)
I went to a reputable psychic, a beautiful and tall middle-aged woman whose clairvoyant powers lay in touch, or clairsentience. And so after sitting in her cozy and warm office with the sound of water trickling through an indoor fountain and a recording of classical piano echoing from another room, she held my favorite pair of earrings and asked me what I wanted to know.
I suppose I could've asked all the traditional questions: questions of my love life, my career, my future family (alright, I eventually did ask those questions too, it was an hour long session after all. But that's not the point). I only went there, though, for one question:
Was I going to be okay?
Peace Corps was something I had wanted to do for years before I actually applied. It was a nagging at the back of my mind, the poking finger that told me I really didn't know my own strength until I'd pushed myself further. It was initially a point of contention with my parents, and over time they gave me their blessing. But then, weeks before I received my invitation to go to Peru, Dateline aired a piece on the ugly side of Peace Corps and sexual assault/rape incidences and lack of support for the victims. Suddenly everything was thrown into question and I almost withdrew my application. I came face-to-face with a very real risk as a woman volunteer that I had refused to address. In the end, despite fears and worries for my safety, I accepted my invitation. And in accepting I felt like I was opening myself up to a whole new world of danger and hurt unlike I had ever known. It was incredibly frightening.
And so even though there is no way that anyone can truly know, I needed to know-- would I be okay? Would I be safe during my Peace Corps service?
She closed her clear blue eyes briefly, peacefully, and upon opening them looked directly into mine and said, "You're going to be fine. You will be safe. You are intuitive, and that intuitiveness will help you take care of yourself and to know when a situation is good or bad. You will meet some of the most amazing people, and they will change your life for the better. The people there will be in awe of how tall you are. They'll love you, and you'll love them. This is going to be a wonderful, life changing experience for you. I see nothing but good coming from it."
I took these words, whether because I wanted to believe them or I needed to believe them, and I held them close to me always. There were times as I travelled or walked alone in the city and had that nervous, alertness that could so easily slip into fear when I told myself, "you will be safe, you will be aware, you will know when a situation is bad." There were days during training and in site when I hated every single person around me and wanted nothing more than to be alone and I told myself, "these could be amazing people that will change your life for the better." When I fretted over arriving in my site and whether I would do a good job, or simply whether I should be there at all, I said, "they'll love you, and you'll love them." This was my mantra. Sometimes I didn't believe it. A lot of times, actually. Sometimes saying it was the only thing that kept me from giving up.
Everything she said came true. And honestly, I don't really care if it was a real prediction or an optimistic guess. I needed it to be true, and it became my truth.
Now, post-Peace Corps, returning home...she didn't say anything about this period of time. Then again, I didn't ask. I never gave a whole lot of thought to what life after Peace Corps would be like, because why wouldn't it just be awesome? Being home with loved ones? Accomplishing a life goal and real-world experience under my belt? The backyard BBQs with fresh cut grass, drinking clean water straight out of the tap, walking down the street without a single eye on me or comment on my appearance....Why would I worry about that time? I knew reverse-culture shock was hard and that I would be sad to leave Peru, but this...this is something no one could've prepared me for. Even after people told me I could flail, I could flop, I could go months without a job, I just didn't know.
I was warned that "coming home is the hardest part." But I never thought I'd be going on six-months of unemployment, unable to even get an interview for office jobs answering phones. I didn't predict that I would feel so worthless and useless while remembering the hard, frustrating, but meaningful work I did in my host-community. I had no idea isolation and loneliness in my own home, in my own country, could outweigh what I felt in a completely foreign land. Adjusting isn't just remembering to put your toilet paper in the toilet, or to shake hands as opposed to kissing. It doesn't have to do with table manners, or the inflection in your voice as you ask for a favor, or showing up on time to meetings. It is learning how to live with who you are now, where you are now, with everything you've come to know and be. It's coming to terms with your beautiful and ugly memories. It's forgiving yourself for the things you can't change about your service, and forgiving those around you for simply not understanding. I spent two years adjusting to a completely different life, with different friends, and it was really good and really bad and utterly life changing. And then literally overnight, I was home. I'm back where I was, but I can't just go back to who I was or what I was doing. I don't know how to fit who I've become into where I am. And I foolishly thought a lot of those simple cultural things would be the only things in my way to readjustment.
And to be honest, admitting all of this is kind of embarrassing, like admitting I paid a psychic to make me feel better about a huge life-changing decision. I hate that this is so much harder than I ever expected and that I haven't figured my shit out yet. I hate that I don't have a job or some kick-ass plan to save the world or really any sort of plan that makes me at least look like I know what I'm doing.
So that's what I'm doing right now. I'm pretty lost, really lonely, extremely frustrated, and trying not to be like Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite, bragging about high school football and stuck in the past.
I've considered going back to the same psychic. I'm ravenous for any sort of consolation, anything to hold onto. I need to know good things will eventually start happening, that I will eventually get a job, that I will serve a purpose, that the dust will settle from this two-year cloud. I know this can't last forever, but when will it end?
I have a feeling I know what she'd say. I can already picture her peacefully close her eyes, and upon opening them look into mine and say, "You're going to be fine."
The Northern Coast
The Northern Coast--photo by Zack Thieman
Showing posts with label reverse culture shock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reverse culture shock. Show all posts
Friday, January 24, 2014
Monday, August 5, 2013
Parking lots, gaining weight, and speaking English--or Reuniting with 'Mericuh
During the entirety of my Peace Corps service I never went home to visit-- no Christmas vacations, no weddings, no family emergencies (thankfully), no visits whatsoever-- so the first time I was reunited with my family and homeland was the day after my close of service.
I had been warned sufficiently that while culture shock and adapting to Peru would be difficult, going home and reverse culture shock would be much worse. I already had a small taste of this on the returns from my study abroad to Costa Rica and Spain, but I didn't know what to imagine after over two years of being separated from my home and US culture.
Most people have been pretty understanding that going from living in a third-world country back to the US wasn't going to be easy, and is probably pretty weird. However there are just as many people who don't really seem to understand why. After all, I grew up in the US, people here speak my first language, what's to get used to? What's the adjustment?
Well, I'm going to tell you.
Speaking English all the time is weird
Maybe it was the fact that I'd just left Peru and said goodbye to my Peace Corps experience and was on an overnight flight with my seat at a 90º angle, but I cried in the Houston airport, mostly because I didn't know what language to speak.
In the past two years I only spoke English with other volunteers and on the phone with people back home. Otherwise day-in and day-out I spoke Spanish. So it's safe to say 99% of my interactions with strangers over the last two years have been in Spanish, and suddenly I was faced with customs and they were asking me questions in English and my brain was having a really hard time just remembering common courtesies and things to say to strangers in English. It didn't matter that English is my first language, my brain was prepared with responses in Spanish and the switch wasn't easy. And then to hear English all over the place, well that was just too much! My ears have been trained to perk up when I hear my mother tongue, so suddenly my head was going into overdrive as everyone spoke it.
Customer service people are way too friendly.
There is nothing like customer service in the US. Seriously, nothing. There were definitely times in Peru when the waitress was practically glaring at us from across the room while we waited to be served, or I stood outside a bodega banging a coin on the metal bar of the front window yelling, "¡SEÑO!" over and over again for 5 minutes waiting for someone to come out and let me buy something.
So when a waitress doesn't just want to take my order but makes inquiries about what I've been up to all day, or the barista at Starbucks asks my mom and I if we're having a "mother-daughter day," my first reaction is, "What's it to you?" I used to work in customer service so I should be a little more understanding, but it's been surprising. I'm also pretty sure every waitress has been hitting on my boyfriend in front of me, but I could be wrong.
There are a lot of parking lots and paved things.
Need I say more? I can't get over how there are so many parking lots. Within the first 24 hours of being home I grew a disdain for them that I never felt before. Not to mention how weird it is that everything is paved. The town I lived in had one paved road and it was the main highway that ran through it.
There are way too many choices and products in grocery stores
I've heard a lot of stories of people coming home from third-world countries and stepping into grocery stores only to cry at the large variety, because going from having one choice of cereal to 50 can be extremely overwhelming.
I thought this wouldn't happen to me because in the cities in Peru they have big grocery stores like in the US, the only difference being products and expensive imported food from the US (like M&M's). At least a couple times a month I would visit them and splurge on something simple like a bag of picante mixed nuts or a Snickers bar.
So my first time in an Albertson's as I went to gather some food for a BBQ I surprised even myself as I crumbled into tears after wandering the aisles for 10 minutes and ending up with only one thing in my hand. I couldn't find any of the food I used to buy in Peru, and 50% of the food in the store was a processed product I'd never heard of. All I wanted was to find one pepper I used to eat everyday in Peru and when I realized I wouldn't find it, but there were a ton of products I could never think of a use for in bright and shiny packages, it made me pretty sad.
American food is both delicious and dangerous
I think I've gained 10lbs in the last week and a half. And I wish I was kidding. Yes, the US is filled with food I've never heard of and don't know if I'll ever eat, but it is also filled with yummy food I've missed so much. And I have gorged myself on it. And I've gotten really sick. My body has gone into shock over the richness of the food here. Everyday in Peru I ate rice two meals a day accompanied by a pretty bland piece of meat and legume or bean. But over time that blandness started to taste pretty good and full of flavor. And then I came home and ate food here and it was like an explosion in my mouth---and my stomach.
I miss my host mom's cooking, or mostly that I didn't have to cook
In Peru I didn't make my meals, I ate all of them with my host family, and I didn't have a say on what we ate. There were a few times I made food for the whole family, but my host mom and host sister made all the meals, and my only job was to be at the table on time to eat what had been prepared. Being an adult who had made my own food for several years it was a hard adjustment to lose control over what and when I ate. And then it just became life.
Now every meal is up to me. I have to decide what to eat, I have to go to a huge store to buy the food, and I have to prepare it. That was fun for about four days. So much more goes into preparing a meal here! Food is so expensive! In my site there was a small market and a few bodegas and my host family bought all of the basic un-cooked ingredients, like dry beans and a bag of rice. If you wanted meat you went to the carniceria and said "half a chicken" and they literally chopped a chicken in half for you right there, or "beef loin" (if they had beef that day) and they cut the loin off a huge leg hanging from a meat hook. Plus there was just more time to make all of the food from scratch.
Now I'm trying to balance fresh produce with processed products and the ethical production of that food and I'm looking at these plastic wrapped boneless chicken parts and I'm wondering, "where did this chicken come from?"
I feel like I entered an alternate dimension
There's this weird paradox about "home" when you're gone for a long time-- it both stays the same and changes. The things that stay the same make you feel like you've never left, and the things that have changed remind you that life has definitely gone on in your absence. Now I just I feel like I've somehow taken this weird quantum leap into an alternate dimension. Or that I'm dreaming. Either way, it's strange, and I'm not quite sure where I fit into this alternate universe yet.
I feel like I'm on vacation
I haven't quite shaken the feeling yet that this is temporary and that I'm going back to Peru soon.
I say "yes" when I mean "no"
In Peru it's rude to say "no," so even when you have no intention of working on a project with someone or meeting up with them, you say "yes." I was really frustrated about this in Peru, but I started adopting it, too. If someone invited me to a party I said, "yeah, I'll be there!" and then never showed up. And that was okay. That is not okay in the US. That is flaky. My boyfriend has had to remind me multiple times to be straight forward with people about my plans because, guess what? People don't get offended here if you already have something going on that day, but they will get offended if you blow them off.
Small children don't run to me for hugs and tell me how pretty I am
Surprisingly much more depressing than I thought it would be. There are some quirks to sticking out and getting a lot of attention, and that is small children want to hug you and are nice to you. If I were to hug someone's child here I'd probably get arrested.
Other random things:
I had been warned sufficiently that while culture shock and adapting to Peru would be difficult, going home and reverse culture shock would be much worse. I already had a small taste of this on the returns from my study abroad to Costa Rica and Spain, but I didn't know what to imagine after over two years of being separated from my home and US culture.
Most people have been pretty understanding that going from living in a third-world country back to the US wasn't going to be easy, and is probably pretty weird. However there are just as many people who don't really seem to understand why. After all, I grew up in the US, people here speak my first language, what's to get used to? What's the adjustment?
Well, I'm going to tell you.
Speaking English all the time is weird
Maybe it was the fact that I'd just left Peru and said goodbye to my Peace Corps experience and was on an overnight flight with my seat at a 90º angle, but I cried in the Houston airport, mostly because I didn't know what language to speak.
In the past two years I only spoke English with other volunteers and on the phone with people back home. Otherwise day-in and day-out I spoke Spanish. So it's safe to say 99% of my interactions with strangers over the last two years have been in Spanish, and suddenly I was faced with customs and they were asking me questions in English and my brain was having a really hard time just remembering common courtesies and things to say to strangers in English. It didn't matter that English is my first language, my brain was prepared with responses in Spanish and the switch wasn't easy. And then to hear English all over the place, well that was just too much! My ears have been trained to perk up when I hear my mother tongue, so suddenly my head was going into overdrive as everyone spoke it.
Customer service people are way too friendly.
There is nothing like customer service in the US. Seriously, nothing. There were definitely times in Peru when the waitress was practically glaring at us from across the room while we waited to be served, or I stood outside a bodega banging a coin on the metal bar of the front window yelling, "¡SEÑO!" over and over again for 5 minutes waiting for someone to come out and let me buy something.
So when a waitress doesn't just want to take my order but makes inquiries about what I've been up to all day, or the barista at Starbucks asks my mom and I if we're having a "mother-daughter day," my first reaction is, "What's it to you?" I used to work in customer service so I should be a little more understanding, but it's been surprising. I'm also pretty sure every waitress has been hitting on my boyfriend in front of me, but I could be wrong.
There are a lot of parking lots and paved things.
Need I say more? I can't get over how there are so many parking lots. Within the first 24 hours of being home I grew a disdain for them that I never felt before. Not to mention how weird it is that everything is paved. The town I lived in had one paved road and it was the main highway that ran through it.
There are way too many choices and products in grocery stores
I've heard a lot of stories of people coming home from third-world countries and stepping into grocery stores only to cry at the large variety, because going from having one choice of cereal to 50 can be extremely overwhelming.
I thought this wouldn't happen to me because in the cities in Peru they have big grocery stores like in the US, the only difference being products and expensive imported food from the US (like M&M's). At least a couple times a month I would visit them and splurge on something simple like a bag of picante mixed nuts or a Snickers bar.
So my first time in an Albertson's as I went to gather some food for a BBQ I surprised even myself as I crumbled into tears after wandering the aisles for 10 minutes and ending up with only one thing in my hand. I couldn't find any of the food I used to buy in Peru, and 50% of the food in the store was a processed product I'd never heard of. All I wanted was to find one pepper I used to eat everyday in Peru and when I realized I wouldn't find it, but there were a ton of products I could never think of a use for in bright and shiny packages, it made me pretty sad.
American food is both delicious and dangerous
I think I've gained 10lbs in the last week and a half. And I wish I was kidding. Yes, the US is filled with food I've never heard of and don't know if I'll ever eat, but it is also filled with yummy food I've missed so much. And I have gorged myself on it. And I've gotten really sick. My body has gone into shock over the richness of the food here. Everyday in Peru I ate rice two meals a day accompanied by a pretty bland piece of meat and legume or bean. But over time that blandness started to taste pretty good and full of flavor. And then I came home and ate food here and it was like an explosion in my mouth---and my stomach.
I miss my host mom's cooking, or mostly that I didn't have to cook
In Peru I didn't make my meals, I ate all of them with my host family, and I didn't have a say on what we ate. There were a few times I made food for the whole family, but my host mom and host sister made all the meals, and my only job was to be at the table on time to eat what had been prepared. Being an adult who had made my own food for several years it was a hard adjustment to lose control over what and when I ate. And then it just became life.
Now every meal is up to me. I have to decide what to eat, I have to go to a huge store to buy the food, and I have to prepare it. That was fun for about four days. So much more goes into preparing a meal here! Food is so expensive! In my site there was a small market and a few bodegas and my host family bought all of the basic un-cooked ingredients, like dry beans and a bag of rice. If you wanted meat you went to the carniceria and said "half a chicken" and they literally chopped a chicken in half for you right there, or "beef loin" (if they had beef that day) and they cut the loin off a huge leg hanging from a meat hook. Plus there was just more time to make all of the food from scratch.
Now I'm trying to balance fresh produce with processed products and the ethical production of that food and I'm looking at these plastic wrapped boneless chicken parts and I'm wondering, "where did this chicken come from?"
I feel like I entered an alternate dimension
There's this weird paradox about "home" when you're gone for a long time-- it both stays the same and changes. The things that stay the same make you feel like you've never left, and the things that have changed remind you that life has definitely gone on in your absence. Now I just I feel like I've somehow taken this weird quantum leap into an alternate dimension. Or that I'm dreaming. Either way, it's strange, and I'm not quite sure where I fit into this alternate universe yet.
I feel like I'm on vacation
I haven't quite shaken the feeling yet that this is temporary and that I'm going back to Peru soon.
I say "yes" when I mean "no"
In Peru it's rude to say "no," so even when you have no intention of working on a project with someone or meeting up with them, you say "yes." I was really frustrated about this in Peru, but I started adopting it, too. If someone invited me to a party I said, "yeah, I'll be there!" and then never showed up. And that was okay. That is not okay in the US. That is flaky. My boyfriend has had to remind me multiple times to be straight forward with people about my plans because, guess what? People don't get offended here if you already have something going on that day, but they will get offended if you blow them off.
Small children don't run to me for hugs and tell me how pretty I am
Surprisingly much more depressing than I thought it would be. There are some quirks to sticking out and getting a lot of attention, and that is small children want to hug you and are nice to you. If I were to hug someone's child here I'd probably get arrested.
Other random things:
- People don't greet with a kiss here. Whoops.
- Pulling your debit card out of your bra gets you weird looks.
- People are very active, always riding bikes and running somewhere. Makes me feel lazy.
- Everything is so nice and feels like a resort, which exacerbates my "vacation" feeling.
- My mouth is torn apart from eating chips and cold cereal (which I rarely ate in Peru).
- I avoid men on the street/prepare myself for harassment from men in public.
- I still have a hard time not throwing my toilet paper in the trash.
- It's so quiet here. I have to stop myself from filling the silence with loud music.
- Life is so much more predictable here, yet people get upset when things don't go as they expect.
- Everything smells so good. Idaho smells good. Oregon smells good. Trees smell good. I love it.
So yeah. The US of A is my country, my homeland, and I've spent 88.9% of my life here. That doesn't mean it's easy to slip right back into things. Even if things stayed exactly the same while I was gone, I've changed, and those changes in me are going to cause friction with the way life was before I left.
It's kind of fun though. Seeing your own country and home through new eyes helps create change that maybe was needed all along. I don't have to slip back into the old me, and at the same time I don't have to completely change everything. I get to find something in between and that's an adventure in itself.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
That time I got really nervous about going back to the USA
This is it guys. Fourteen days until I leave Peru, eleven days until I leave site. Camps are all done, projects have been completed and closed, and all that's left is saying goodbye.
I am getting a lot of mixed reactions from people about coming home soon. Newer volunteers cheer and tell me how exciting it is that I've completed service and am finally going home. People in my site beg me not to go. People back home can hardly believe the time has finally come for my return and are planning visits. Volunteers in my group share the stressed exasperation of both being happy to return and sad and overwhelmed to pack two years of our lives into two bags and say goodbye to our communities. It's pretty safe to say, all of those reactions mirror every feeling I have about coming home. Overall, it's pretty emotional.
A couple weeks ago I was talking with an extended host family member and they asked me if there were a lot of differences between our cultures. And I kind of drew a blank and said, "No, there aren't that many differences." You know you've been away from home for a long time when you can't come up with at least 10 cultural differences between Peru and the USA. There are huge differences between Peru and the US. I had some of the worst culture shock I have ever experienced while adjusting to life in Peru. And the scary part is they always say, "going home is the hardest part." I'm not gonna lie guys, I'm nervous.
One of my biggest stresses about going home is how I will react to the reverse culture shock and how I will behave back home. So I decided to list several of the perceivably "strange" things I might do upon my arrival, or things that will take time for me to adjust to. Hopefully if you see this list before you see me you'll be prepared to handle any awkwardness.
Technology and pop-culture baffles me
Thanks to Facebook and the internet I haven't been completely behind the times on everything, but that doesn't mean I'm by any means up to speed. Before I left for Peru I had a handful of friends who had iPhones and iPads, and now it's apparently the new norm. Everyone is talking about apps and things like Instagram and Snapchat and using acronyms like YOLO and smh and I literally have to look it all up online or ask a friend back in the US to explain it to me. So, if you refer to something and I give you a blank stare, remember I've been living under a rock called Peru. But if you have any questions about cumbia music or what happened on Al Fondo Hay Sitio last week, then we can talk.
Claro, I can hablar en Ingles
Despite English being my mother tongue, I have really lapsed in being able to use it well in regular conversation, especially without Spanish sprinkled in. All of my interactions all day, every day, are in Spanish. All of the volunteers live this way, so when we spend time together we're on the same page linguistically, I guess you could say. It's safe to say the Peace Corps Peru official language is Spanglish, as any conversation we have together is completely filled with Spanish and words that are neither fully English nor Spanish but some weird hybrid. It's the fastest, easiest way for us to talk. Sometimes I can't even remember what a word is in English, I can only think of the Spanish translation. Así es. So I may tell a clerk "gracias" or talk about how I'm going to aprovechar a restaurant buffet, and I may just sound like I'm speaking gibberish.
Don't swear, it sounds like sh*t
One of my favorite things about living in Peru is my ability to say whatever I want in English wherever I want without anyone (well, the majority of the time) understanding me. It's like having a secret language. And the result of two-years of unfiltered conversation with my friends in public is something that may be shocking, rude, and inappropriate for US standards. Those of you who knew me back home know that I have a tendency to swear like a sailor. Well, this scalawag has been away from shore a bit too long, and my regular conversations with friends make an episode of Deadwood look like a chat over coffee. In fact, that is what our chats over coffee look like. This also includes talking about personal issues (like how much diarrhea you had last night) or mentioning that the person sitting at the other table looks attractive/ridiculous/funny/etc. Essentially, anything that pops into my head is coming out of my mouth. And I can already see my friends back home saying, "Wait, she could get worse?" Yes. And it is. And I'm afraid for what I might say.
No cutting!
I think I may actually be really happy about this change-- people actually form a line while waiting for a service of some sort in the USA. In Peru it's pretty much a free-for-all with elbows flying and what we refer to as the "Peruvian shuffle" as someone slowly and not-so-discretely squeezes in front of you in line. However, I may not be used to forming a line. If you see me cut an entire line of people and push my way to the front, I'm sorry. Just add it to the list of embarrassing things you will endure with me.
Look Ma! This bathroom has toilet paper!
I'm going to be really excited about really little things. I mean, really excited. When my friend Becky came to visit we went to a grocery store in Lima where they typically have more diversity in products and upon seeing a shelf with almond milk I gasped and screamed, "ALMOND MIIIIILLLKKKK!!!!!!!!" because I hadn't seen it in a year and a half and had practically forgotten it existed. And it's going to be like that with everything. Toilet paper and soap in a public bathroom (and being able to flush the toilet paper!). Clean water that comes straight from the tap. A grassy lawn that I can sit on. The ice cream section of the grocery store (actually, any section of the grocery store). Streets without trash covering them. Healthy dogs (that aren't stray). Cheddar cheese. Hopefully within the first week I'll get over most of these things, but be prepared for some seemingly un-necessary ceremonious celebrating over little things.
Pass the Pepto, and give me a plate of rice
One of the things I've been literally dreaming about since the first week I left the USA in 2011 is food back home. God, I have missed it. And it was quite the adjustment to Peruvian food at first. In fact, in one of my first blogs on the food here I made the statement of how I didn't like it all that much. Well, the tables have turned. I love Peruvian food. I have no problem eating a ton of rice. In fact when I go on the rare and few trips to eat "American food" I usually end up sick afterwards and just wish that I could have something simple like a plate of rice and a fried egg. American food is rich, too rich for what my body is used to now. Not to mention I think I've become slightly lactose intolerant from my low dairy intake. So while I am still excited for food back home, I'm probably going to be sick for awhile. Odds are I'm also going to complain about prices/availability of produce.
No fork? No knife? No problem
Just thought I'd add, my eating habits aren't quite as "proper" as they once were. All you really need to eat in Peru is a spoon and your hands...and a lot of times I opt for the hands. I apologize if the way I eat ruins your appetite.
And the list goes on...
There are many, many more things I have gotten used to here that I know will be different back home. I'm sure a lot of the adjusting will be internal and not so easily seen by everyone around me. It's going to be hard to deal with leaving my host family, work, community, and friends here in Peru. I have a life here that I'll never be able to return to. It's going to be an adjustment to return home where everyone's lives have continued on without me and finding where I fit back in. Just remember that I've been gone a long time and we all have a lot of catching up to do. Luckily I have awesome friends and family who are understanding and love me no matter what. It's all part of the big adventure, and now we're sharing it together.
I am getting a lot of mixed reactions from people about coming home soon. Newer volunteers cheer and tell me how exciting it is that I've completed service and am finally going home. People in my site beg me not to go. People back home can hardly believe the time has finally come for my return and are planning visits. Volunteers in my group share the stressed exasperation of both being happy to return and sad and overwhelmed to pack two years of our lives into two bags and say goodbye to our communities. It's pretty safe to say, all of those reactions mirror every feeling I have about coming home. Overall, it's pretty emotional.
A couple weeks ago I was talking with an extended host family member and they asked me if there were a lot of differences between our cultures. And I kind of drew a blank and said, "No, there aren't that many differences." You know you've been away from home for a long time when you can't come up with at least 10 cultural differences between Peru and the USA. There are huge differences between Peru and the US. I had some of the worst culture shock I have ever experienced while adjusting to life in Peru. And the scary part is they always say, "going home is the hardest part." I'm not gonna lie guys, I'm nervous.
One of my biggest stresses about going home is how I will react to the reverse culture shock and how I will behave back home. So I decided to list several of the perceivably "strange" things I might do upon my arrival, or things that will take time for me to adjust to. Hopefully if you see this list before you see me you'll be prepared to handle any awkwardness.
Technology and pop-culture baffles me
Thanks to Facebook and the internet I haven't been completely behind the times on everything, but that doesn't mean I'm by any means up to speed. Before I left for Peru I had a handful of friends who had iPhones and iPads, and now it's apparently the new norm. Everyone is talking about apps and things like Instagram and Snapchat and using acronyms like YOLO and smh and I literally have to look it all up online or ask a friend back in the US to explain it to me. So, if you refer to something and I give you a blank stare, remember I've been living under a rock called Peru. But if you have any questions about cumbia music or what happened on Al Fondo Hay Sitio last week, then we can talk.
Claro, I can hablar en Ingles
Despite English being my mother tongue, I have really lapsed in being able to use it well in regular conversation, especially without Spanish sprinkled in. All of my interactions all day, every day, are in Spanish. All of the volunteers live this way, so when we spend time together we're on the same page linguistically, I guess you could say. It's safe to say the Peace Corps Peru official language is Spanglish, as any conversation we have together is completely filled with Spanish and words that are neither fully English nor Spanish but some weird hybrid. It's the fastest, easiest way for us to talk. Sometimes I can't even remember what a word is in English, I can only think of the Spanish translation. Así es. So I may tell a clerk "gracias" or talk about how I'm going to aprovechar a restaurant buffet, and I may just sound like I'm speaking gibberish.
Don't swear, it sounds like sh*t
One of my favorite things about living in Peru is my ability to say whatever I want in English wherever I want without anyone (well, the majority of the time) understanding me. It's like having a secret language. And the result of two-years of unfiltered conversation with my friends in public is something that may be shocking, rude, and inappropriate for US standards. Those of you who knew me back home know that I have a tendency to swear like a sailor. Well, this scalawag has been away from shore a bit too long, and my regular conversations with friends make an episode of Deadwood look like a chat over coffee. In fact, that is what our chats over coffee look like. This also includes talking about personal issues (like how much diarrhea you had last night) or mentioning that the person sitting at the other table looks attractive/ridiculous/funny/etc. Essentially, anything that pops into my head is coming out of my mouth. And I can already see my friends back home saying, "Wait, she could get worse?" Yes. And it is. And I'm afraid for what I might say.
No cutting!
I think I may actually be really happy about this change-- people actually form a line while waiting for a service of some sort in the USA. In Peru it's pretty much a free-for-all with elbows flying and what we refer to as the "Peruvian shuffle" as someone slowly and not-so-discretely squeezes in front of you in line. However, I may not be used to forming a line. If you see me cut an entire line of people and push my way to the front, I'm sorry. Just add it to the list of embarrassing things you will endure with me.
Look Ma! This bathroom has toilet paper!
I'm going to be really excited about really little things. I mean, really excited. When my friend Becky came to visit we went to a grocery store in Lima where they typically have more diversity in products and upon seeing a shelf with almond milk I gasped and screamed, "ALMOND MIIIIILLLKKKK!!!!!!!!" because I hadn't seen it in a year and a half and had practically forgotten it existed. And it's going to be like that with everything. Toilet paper and soap in a public bathroom (and being able to flush the toilet paper!). Clean water that comes straight from the tap. A grassy lawn that I can sit on. The ice cream section of the grocery store (actually, any section of the grocery store). Streets without trash covering them. Healthy dogs (that aren't stray). Cheddar cheese. Hopefully within the first week I'll get over most of these things, but be prepared for some seemingly un-necessary ceremonious celebrating over little things.
Pass the Pepto, and give me a plate of rice
One of the things I've been literally dreaming about since the first week I left the USA in 2011 is food back home. God, I have missed it. And it was quite the adjustment to Peruvian food at first. In fact, in one of my first blogs on the food here I made the statement of how I didn't like it all that much. Well, the tables have turned. I love Peruvian food. I have no problem eating a ton of rice. In fact when I go on the rare and few trips to eat "American food" I usually end up sick afterwards and just wish that I could have something simple like a plate of rice and a fried egg. American food is rich, too rich for what my body is used to now. Not to mention I think I've become slightly lactose intolerant from my low dairy intake. So while I am still excited for food back home, I'm probably going to be sick for awhile. Odds are I'm also going to complain about prices/availability of produce.
No fork? No knife? No problem
Just thought I'd add, my eating habits aren't quite as "proper" as they once were. All you really need to eat in Peru is a spoon and your hands...and a lot of times I opt for the hands. I apologize if the way I eat ruins your appetite.
And the list goes on...
There are many, many more things I have gotten used to here that I know will be different back home. I'm sure a lot of the adjusting will be internal and not so easily seen by everyone around me. It's going to be hard to deal with leaving my host family, work, community, and friends here in Peru. I have a life here that I'll never be able to return to. It's going to be an adjustment to return home where everyone's lives have continued on without me and finding where I fit back in. Just remember that I've been gone a long time and we all have a lot of catching up to do. Luckily I have awesome friends and family who are understanding and love me no matter what. It's all part of the big adventure, and now we're sharing it together.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)