Reentry

So it has been over a year since I last posted on my blog.  I never meant for that to happen, but back in December, exchange really picked up and my poor blog fell out of my mind.  I hope to go back and fill in the back half with help from my journal, but that isn't why I'm back.  Tonight I want to let you all know a little more about that rarely mentioned, third year of exchange. 

 

But Mary!  You only went away for one year!  What do you mean a THIRD year??

Well, lovely reader, exchange is really something of a three year process.  

Year one, is the application/prep year.  The one where you get super excited, and write a million blog posts, even though you don't have anything to talk about, like yours truly.

Next, you have the actual "living in a new country" year, aka when I lived in Germany.  That is typically the focus of any talks about Exchange and for good reason. It's incredible.  But that isn't what this post is about.  

This post is about the reentry year.  The reverse culture shock of returning home, only to discover it doesn't feel like home.  Or maybe that you don't feel like you.  But you are you so whatever you feel like has to be you because who else would it be?  

Confused?

Good.  Now you are getting into the third year mindset.  Now I can't claim to be the first person to speak up about this.  Any Exchanger has heard tell of the dreaded reentry questions...

"How was your trip?"

or

"Oh that must have been relaxing to be on vacation for a year!"

You answer with scathing, sarcastic quips like,

"Why yes, that entire year of my life when I moved away from everything I knew and showed up utterly friendless at the home of complete strangers, all while not knowing the language, was always relaxing and fun!"

but oft as not, they won't realize that you are making a joke and they'll then continue on with commenting on the weather, speculating as to whether or not you have grown any taller, or other equally as interesting topics.  

You learn to accept it.  Next time you just give them a smile, say it was good, and continue on.  It's how we cope.  Because how do you explain the experience of building a family for yourself from scratch, or the feeling of understanding what someone is saying even though you never studied the words they are using?  You can't.  There isn't enough time to explain it, and one language doesn't hold enough words.  The frustrating thing though, is that there are people who understand.  There are people who know every situation you keep referencing, but they are scattered across the globe now and you are left with...not them.  It's not just the change of people though.

There are other funny things you notice, like... 

Nobody rides bikes.

People do stuff on Sundays.

Breakfast is treated as a second-class meal.

The grocery store has bags waiting for you at the end of the conveyor.

Said bags are free.

They are also filled by someone other than yourself, all you have to do is pay!

Jaywalking.

Free toilets. 

Water is flat and boring again.

Smiles. Everywhere.

The bread is like cake, but not in a good way.

You can drive a car.

You get excited hearing a stranger speak English.

Drinking fountains.

Kleenex boxes. 

Salty popcorn.

Small talk.

Mail boxes.

Subdivisions.

Those street signs with the funny shapes.

What is "bae" and why do you all have one?

How do I fleek?  

Thot =/= thought?

WHY IS EVERYTHING WEIRD AND WHY DID I NEVER NOTICE?  

We all knew that our host country would be a new experience, but after a year of living there, there are a lot of things about our 'home' countries that seem really odd and sometimes backwards.  Again we chant the Exchanger mantra "It's not weird, its just different. Not weird, different. Different, not weird."  Throwing that phrase at the place where you were raised, however, can be a real bender.  It's all just too...different.

It's a radical time, when you are trying to define what exactly exchange was, how it changed you, and what that means for the future.  You try to invest in life back home, but it's hard when your thoughts are drifting across oceans, shifting between adventures past and future.  All you want is to be exploring somewhere new, and the idea of setting down roots makes you cringe.  It's a balancing act, trying to hold up some sort of a double life, not able to pick just one.  It's one I haven't figured out, that's for sure.

Liebe Grüße

MMB