New Vocabulary

John le Carre says, "Coming home from very lonely places, all of us go a little mad: whether from great personal success, or just an all-night drive, we are the sole survivors of a world no one else has ever seen." So, theoretically I knew there would be reverse culture shock. But to say I experienced it seems like a pre-bottled cliché cover-up to slather over the various indistinguishable symptoms I felt when I came home for Christmas. Oh source of angst! What supplies the aquifer from whence cometh this melodrama and this silly silly mood? Ahem!

There’s another term called culture fatigue which better describes the way I felt- my arms were tired from pulling at the little black barge of responsibility of looming grades and assignments, like trying to walk through waist deep water without knowing which shore to head towards, burdened down, striving, fatigued. And yet my heart was full from just being there, at HOME, soaking up my people, and the comfort of my food, and the regular everyday sights of my country, and as much physical touch as possible. And then I was whisked away and deposited back on the other side of the ocean, with plenty of time on the plane to think. I used to always look up at planes streaking across the sky and wish I was on them. Now I just want to stay put for a while.