Another round of culture shock

Coffee breaks every two hours.  A suntan in the middle of November.  Monthly European excursions.

I'm ready to go back.

Today I'm leaving the hills of West Virginia and entering the plains of Murcia.  And I'm ready.  I'm ready to catch up with my amigos, meet my new compañera, and, of course, wrap my arms around my novio.

While I’m excited to get back, I’m a little hesitant to give up certain comforts of home.  The main one being the familiarity of my own culture.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love the challenges and intrigues of living in a different culture.  But sometimes the constant game of “monkey see, monkey do” gets tiring.  And as I sit here in the international terminal of the Newark airport, I’m already getting subtle reminders of the challenges that come along with living in another country.  I’ve eavesdropped over four conversations in Spanish and understood 40% of them.  I’ve crossed paths with a Spanish woman, playing the awkward dancing game, trying to pass her and struggled to come up with perdona.  (Hopefully I’m just out of practice.)  It makes me want to go back monolingual Morgantown.

WVU Stadium

I enjoyed putting on my Mountaineer Maniacs shirt to blend right in the sea of gold at Mylan Puskar Satdium.  For the first time in months I wasn’t a strange sight in a crowd.  I enjoyed walking into Kroger’s and not having to think of how to say, “Where is the whipped cream?” before I asked it.  I enjoyed sitting in my backyard surrounded by the familiar sight of green.  By the sight of actual vegetation.  I simply enjoyed activities that I forgot about while in Spain in took for granted in the past.

Favorite spot at home

Maybe I’ve just become too comfortable at home, and I’m bracing myself for culture shock that’s going to be less electrifying than I’m anticipating.  Whatever the reason may be, I realize it’s because I enjoyed being back in the States. 

But just as I’m hesitant to board this plane, I was hesitant to board the bus to the Madrid airport back in August.  Sometimes the most difficult part of going through a major change is waiting for the big change.  As I type, I just eavesdropped my fifth conversation and understood 100%.  I’m slowly feeling good and ready—even though that conversation involved a child.

Regardless, it’s going to be a good year.

My advice for a guiri: Do something every now and then to remind yourself of your cultural identity.  It’s easy to forget after a while.  

Top Ten Things to Miss List

So why have I been missing in action lately?  I'd liked to say that it's because of I've traversed the Atlantic Ocean in two weeks in a row.  But seeing that the Internet is global and I have access wherever I go, that still doesn't seem like a good enough excuse.

But yes, I went back home to visit for the first time in six months.  I spent twelve days visiting friends and family and enjoying the comforts of being in my own culture.  I knew that I was going to experience culture shock once I arrived to the States, but I didn't expect forgetting about so many social norms.  

Ten minutes after I stepped of the plane, I unnerved a man when I invaded his personal space stepping onto an escalator.  I had forgotten about the invisible bubble we Americans carry around with us.  (They're popped all the time in Spain.)  I also did other things such as stiffed a waiter since I'm not used to leaving tips anymore, and I nearly left trash on the tables at every sit-down, fast-food restaurant I went to.  I also talked myself into a beer-break in the middle of shopping at Target and then remembered all the legality that goes into consuming one beer in the US.  Target doesn't even sell alcohol on its shelves let alone at its food stand.

But there were several aspects of home that I welcomingly embraced without a second thought.  With my friends and family being the assumed number one, here are the top ten things that I missed about home:

 1.  My clothes dryer:

Hanging my clothes out to dry when it's cloudy and/or humid can take days.  It can be a week-long process.  I've never had to plan my outfits in advance like this before.

2.  Central heating and A/C:

This winter was the coldest warmest season I've ever experienced.  50°F and humid everywhere...even my living room.  The 100°F+ summer will be interesting...

 3.  My car

Spanish shoes and I don't always get along.  I've ruined three pairs from all of the walking I do.  (The laces on these boots lasted for a grand total of four days.)

4.  Steak
I avoided all forms of pig when I was home.

5.  Free refills
I'm tired of savoring every last drop of Coca-Cola.

6.  Not being asked if I'm Russian when I speak
Apparently I have quite the accent when I speak Spanish

7.  Being the only blond within a fifty-mile radius
Spanish men are not always subtle.  Actually, they never are.

8.  Good quality peanut butter 

There is only one true peanut butter, JIF, and it doesn't exist in Europe.

9.  My little buddies

Before I went home, I had nightmares that my cats didn't recognize me.  Luckily they're fat enough that they'll love anyone who gives them food.

10.  Being surrounded by familiar faces again









Unfortunately I couldn't pack any of these things into my suitcase (except for the JIF--I've already eaten 1 of the 2.8 lbs I brought back).  But I it just gives me something to look forward to when I go back home to visit again.

But I'm curious now, to you other/former/future expats, what do/did/would you miss most from back home?

Coping.

I know I have been an unfaithful blogger lately, and I apologize.  To be fair, I have been traveling for about three of the past five weeks, and I haven't forgotten about my readers.  I promise that I will soon inform you of all my recent travels.

But more important blog-material must take precedence.

To make a long journey short, I'm currently visiting my friend, Steph (my former babysitter--it's a very unique friendship), and her family in Warsaw, Poland.  For the past five days I've been diving into the history of this city, visiting every museum possible and reading ever leaflet or tour book possible about Warsaw.  Not to mention washing down pierogis with beer.  (I'm so fascinated by this city that it gets its own post--give me time).  But the favorite part of my time here in Warsaw is (physically) being part of family.  Steph and her husband, Steve, have two (soon to be three!) adorable children, Kate, 4, and Stephen, 3.  While visiting the Orloski family, I've been waking up to "nuggly hugs," taking morning tours of royal castles with a little "Prince Stephen," and spending the afternoons playing "Mrs. Potts and Bibbidi-Bobbidi."  In the evening I join the Orloskis for a homemade dinner, followed by story time and bedtime. 

And though my role keeps alternating between adopted daughter to the "cool, fun aunt," I enjoy fitting into a family.  I enjoy the comforts of a home and routine, even though living in Murcia is what I want in my life right now--I still miss family.  Because my parents know their favorite babysitter so well, they've been calling the house every day catching up on their "girls in Europe."  I've really enjoyed having so many connections to hope.  Since my arrival to Warsaw, I've been going through family withdraw more than I have before.

In addition to my family, I've been missing my friends as well.  And I miss the ability to "be" a friend, as well.  Today I learned that one of my best friends' mother passed away rather suddenly.  All evening I have been able to do nothing but sit and cry followed by some sitting and crying.  Aside from talking to her and letting her know that I'm praying for her, I can't do anything.  I can't drive over to her apartment and offer my company.  I can't sit down to talk with her and offer my shoulder.  I don't even know her address yet, so I can't even offer a card.  I'm helpless.

I can't do anything but publish this post, a poor attempt at quelling the grief.  And even though it's a sloppy montage of emotions, it's all I can do at the moment.

Watching my friends go through difficult familial situations makes me miss mine all the more.  And it brings out a feeling of fear and incapability on the other side of the Atlantic.  I realize it's all a process of living away from friends and family.  I knew that there were these types of difficulties and challenges of living abroad.  I knew before I left.  But it doesn't make them any easier as I face them.  So while endure them, I'll do the only thing I can do.

We love you, Paige.