Well, I’m officially back in Palm Springs, but I’m having trouble readjusting to life here.
Part of that is because I’m not returning to the home I left behind. Just before I began my year-long trip around the world, The Husband and I moved into a smaller, more affordable place. (It was pointless for him to live in a two-bedroom, two-bathroom condo by himself, and it was easier for us to financially manage a small apartment.) We moved into this apartment just a few days before I hit the road.
While I was gone, The Husband unpacked all the boxes I left behind. In order to squeeze everything into dollhouse-sized closets, he vacuum packed all of my clothes. He erected metal shelving units to hold everything that wouldn’t fit into drawers and cupboards, he developed a special folding system for the bathroom towels, and he found the most counterintuitive location for the coffee mugs. He really did a lot of work to turn this apartment into his home.
Toss me into that recipe, and it’s confusing. I’m a stranger here. I don’t know where to put away my pajamas, I can’t locate the can opener and I shut the shower door in a way that causes water to leak all over the floor.
Then there are the inevitable weird, awkward, wonderful bits about being back in the Western world. In no particular order:
* I forget the water here is safe. I hesitate to run my toothbrush under the tap. I instinctively ask for no ice in my drinks. I can’t believe I can drink straight from the tap.
* Toilets flush. (And you can put toilet paper in them!)
* I have more clothes than I know what to do with.
* When I have to charge my electronics, I can plug them in without a converter.
* I don’t have to carry a roll of toilet paper in my bag anymore.
* Most everyone speaks English.
* When I wake up, I know exactly where I am.
* Severe sticker shock. Everything feels incredibly expensive here, which makes shopping miserable. Plus, I look at price tags and mentally calculate how many rural Ugandans could be fed for the same amount.
* The abundance of everything everywhere is overwhelming. And those who take it for granted make me angrier than I ever thought possible.
* Things here feel complicated, crowded, commercialized.
So, yeah. This has actually been the most difficult terrain for me to navigate. Roaming gave me a direction I never had when I stayed in one place — so now that I’m officially in one place, I don’t know where to go. People keep asking me about my “plan,” and I honestly don’t know what to tell them.
I’ve been very depressed, to a point where I don’t even enjoy interacting with other people or leaving my house. I don’t even know how to be social anymore. I don’t like answering superficial questions about my trip, and I know I bore people when I talk in-depth about the things that feel important to me now. I know I’m supposed to be happy and content here in the U.S., but surprisingly, this feels like the most foreign place I’ve been.
On one of my first days back, a friend asked me a question about my trip. I started to respond, “Well, when I was in Thailand …” She cut me off and mocked me, saying, “Oh, so now you’re one of those insufferable people who starts stories by saying, ‘Well, when I was in Thailand …'” She made me feel like trash, as if I have to squelch the all experiences that have been so invigorating, motivating and challenging in the past year. That kind of thing makes me wonder why I came back at all.
To be clear, not everything is bad. I’m thankful for hot showers, Twizzlers, swimming pools and real coffee. It’s really nice to crawl into bed without checking for cockroaches first. And I love spending time with my real-life husband, not just an image on Skype.
Of course I’m grateful for all the adventure, fun and surprise I’ve had during my travels, and I don’t regret anything about this trip. It’s just that after spending 12 months pining for Palm Springs, I thought this part would be easier.
I wish they made a Lonely Planet guide for home.
9 Comments
Whatever friend made you feel bad for talking about your trip, after being asked at that, should be slapped with a wet trout. I, for one, LOVE your stories and wish we could have had more time together while you were in Ohio. I hope you are able to find a comfortable balance between what you have come to know with where you are now. If I know YOU I’d guess you will find a creative way to better yourself and the environment around you using the knowledge you have gained from your travels. You are a woman of the world now Mags! No one can take THAT away from you!
“Home is where the heart is.” If your heart changes, I guess it’s time to change the home, in whatever way you can.
It’d be great to be able to get together over Diet Pepsi (you’d prefer coffee, I’m sure) and discuss your trip and the impact it’s had on you. Maybe someday?
Maggie, I’ve been a volunteer with AFS for about seven years now, and ALL the students, no matter who they are, go through reverse culture shock when they get home. It is just so hard to first wrap your head around being somewhere else for a year (or a lot of somewhere elses, in your case) and then come back to this new old place that not only doesn’t match your memories of it, but is extremely hard to adjust to because it is so different.
It’s different because it has changed, a little, but more because YOU have changed, a LOT, and as a result your relationship to it and to everyone you were close to is changed and changing as we speak. It is very hard to adjust to. On top of that your job situation has changed radically, which means that your definition of yourself and who you are is changing even more than you could expect. (Going from a self-definition of world traveler to one of home-again is hard enough.)
As for your friend — she’s typical. None of us can really truly understand what you’ve been through, because we aren’t you and we haven’t been where you’ve been. She was rude and stupid about it, but that’s probably a measure of how intimidating she finds it, if not how shallow she is. Again, all my AFS kids are stunned by how little people in their home countries, USA or elsewhere, want to hear about their year abroad experience. Like you, the experiences from that year are hugely important to the traveler, but for the person who stayed home, they just aren’t as relevant as the best place to get their nails done, or what their kids did that was cute/infuriating/whatever that day.
You’ve learned so much, experienced so much, gained so much, both suffered and enjoyed so much. Re-entry is part of the process, too, and probably the hardest because you have more time to reflect AND see things, places, and people you loved through a different lens than you did a year ago. It takes time to adjust, but you eventually will find a way to reconcile the new you and the new homeland.
My heart aches for your pain and confusion and struggle. I have faith that you can pull it together. You have many friends, including me, who truly *want* to hear what you have to say, explore with you what it means in terms of adjusting to the US, and are willing to listen, if you want to share. Just let it go if the friend can’t handle it; there are others who can and will want to.
Hugs and love,
Laura
Ugh…totally. I also had this alarming sense that the most exciting part of my life was over and all I had to look forward to was years of drudgery and non-funness. But that feeling faded as I got more involved in the day-to-day/started working on getting a job and found something that I liked to do. Hang in there!
Hi Maggie, please don’t be sad. I live in San Diego and follow your stories as often as I can. We try to go to Palm Springs at least twice a year (more if we can). The desert cities are beautiful! I look at your picture and wish I were there… Much more peaceful than here. I don’t spend a lot of time on the internet. I check my email, check Maggie Ink, or pay bills.
I’ve really enjoyed your stories and pictures of places I will probably never go. You have gotten to see so much and meet so many different people! That is definitely something to treasure. As long as you keep writing about your adventures, here or abroad, I will keep reading! I love your stories! Thank you!
I answered your fb and then read your friends answers, and we all sound alike–even to the fingernail polish importance! I did find, however, that very few wanted to hear about my trips. So I rarely brought up my travels unless I found a fellow traveler I could talk to, and what fun that is! Those who have traveled, have a different world view, politically economically, and religiously, so I hang with them, and try not to be too dismissive of those who have not,with narrow-minded views, bcs they did not have the opportunity. eyou are a writer, you can help change the world for the better, one step at a time. I found I could not help all the starving lepers on the sidewalks, but I could help one person at a time, and that gave satisfaction. VJ Hume in La Quinta just finished and produced her play, “Lush” at the LaQ Playhouse, and will help change the world for the better with it. She traveled the world for years, performing on cruise lines. If you want her email, I can give it. Pray for goal directions, and you will find it. Iris As
If people don’t want to hear about Thailand, just say Phuket. Seriously, I do know what you mean, though I think your experiences are probably much more colorful than my (necessarily) more sanitized world travels. You guys should drive over the mountains to escape the heat one of these days, and you can share your experiences with us. Oh, and feel free to bring Helen K–I mean Lemon.
Thank you for all the great comments, everyone. I really appreciate your kindness, especially at a time when I feel like I can’t talk to anyone about this stuff.
I think my biggest problem is that I’m suffering a loss of identity right now. While I was traveling, I was learning and doing a lot of volunteer work, and I felt like I was actively making meaningful contributions to the world. Now that I’m at home, I don’t have any of the things that are supposed to be “meaningful” here. I don’t have a car or a job, I’m not making money, I’m not contributing anything.
It’s going to take some time for me to get my head on straight again and readjust to life here. And when I accomplish that, I’m going to make service and volunteer work a priority. I’m beginning to think a big reason why I was so happy on the road is because I was helping others.
People suck… glad you are back safe… you will find your place.