Return to a Foreign Land

I do not know what time it is. All I know is that it is dark and that it smells different. Looks different. Sounds different.

To be honest, I didn't know quite what to expect when returning. I even thought I may not get hit with reverse culture shock since, yes, New Zealand is a different country, but it isn't THAT different. It isn't like returning from Nepal. :p I thought it may be similar to when I returned from Channery Hill since I'd been gone with a similar time-frame, however, I was very wrong.

I walked into my house like a tourist. Everything was new again. I meandered down the hall, taking in the pictures, the paint on the walls, even the creaks the floor made when I stepped on them. It was like walking into a hazy memory. Surprisingly, I was most shocked by my room. I did not recognize it at first, but gradually the smell reminded me it was home.

I believe that perhaps one of the reasons readjusting after coming home is so hard is because when you're traveling to a new country, it is expected that you get used to new things slowly. People know that it may take a few days or even a few months to readjust to your surroundings. When you return home, though, it is expected that you plop right back in, becoming readjusted the moment you step out into your home country's air. But everything is new here, too. And people forget that, or have never known that as it is impossible to understand the way your home becomes foreign unless you've been away for a long while.

So even though my clothes feel restricting, hot, and dirty, I cannot remove them as I am stunned into inaction. I finally took a small tour around the outside of my house to reacquaint myself with Kentucky air. This is perhaps one of the strangest things for me since all of a sudden I went from winter to summer, where the air itself keeps me warm, too warm, in fact. I did not have the bridge of spring to prepare. Though I do feel more content out here. I can, in a way, still feel New Zealand when I'm outside-although it is hidden among the thick muggy atmosphere of the south. Still, I know it is there. 'Twas confirmed when I looked up and saw a shooting star, which I now associate with the deep NZ skies.

Coming home quickly showed me how different I now am. That too, is overwhelming. But, in a good way. I am no longer afraid of many things: being alone, walking down the street at night, dark shadows...though I still hate mosquitoes (mozzies).

With all of this, I can feel my heart beating 1000 times per minute. It beats because everything is familiar in a way that seems lost. It beats because when I smell the hot night air my mind and heart erupt in vivid memories of past summers that will never return. It beats because I feel as though my home has turned into "the persistance of memory" and I am walking through it. It beats because I am excited.

About seeing everything in daylight-
About each new day where I can explore the unfamiliar familiar-
About learning something new about myself-
About continuing my travels, right here in my backyard... literally.

I am excited.

Oh, there is so much to explore!