Reverse Culture Shock

When traveling abroad for any period of time longer than a week, all people upon arrival back into America experiences some form of reverse culture shock, some cases, (obviously) being more extreme than others.

When I got back into the States after my 5 months abroad I had some serious issues re-adjusting, and spent a lot of time just wanting to run and hide in my bed under my 6 layers of blankets. So here is where I’ll share some thoughts and moments of absolute fear that I had upon arrival back into the crazy and overwhelming world of America.

Thought 1: “Oh my god, look. There’s my family. My family is all together. Look at them. OMG is this even real. We’re all hugging, all 4 of us are in each others arms again. Thank god for family, and always being able to come back home again. Oh I love these people.”

Thought 2: “Oh my gosh, that’s my boyfriend, the boy I’ve been staring at through a 14 inch computer screen for the past 5 months. Look at him, he’s so cute. Has he always been that cute? Or that tall? Holy crap I missed him.”

Thought 3: “MEXICAN FOOD. MEXICAN FOOOODDDDD!!! Praise the heavens above; thank god for this delicious cuisine, it tastes like angel tears. This is actually the definition of bliss. Paradise lies in a mouth full of Guacamole, cheese enchilada, rice and beens. NOM NOM NOM”

Readjustment 1: (occurred while having a mental break down/freak out in Target) WHY IS THERE SO MUCH FLORESCENT LIGHTING?!!?!?! HOLY CRAP EVERYTHING IS SO BIG! WHY IS THIS STORE THE SIZE OF ALL THE METRO STATIONS IN PRAGUE COMBINED. NOBODY NEEDS THIS MUCH STUFF. WHY ARE THERE SO MANY AISLES. HOW DOES ANYONE FIND ANYTHING IN HERE.

(I have yet to walk into a Wal-Mart, for good reason. I’m absolutely terrified to go in there)

Readjustment 2: (occurred after I freaked out in Target and my mom told me to go get the car while she paid) *puts key into F-150 ignition* *thinks to my self* um… how do i do this again… right foot stop, left foot go…? Wait no, thats not right, it only takes one foot to drive. Sooo I just turn the wheel and push my foot down and then WOO off we go… Holy crap… this truck is massive. It’s actually the size of a bus. I am driving a bus… OH MY GOSH A CHILD JUST RAN OUT IN FRONT OF ME. WHERE THE CRAP IS YOUR PARENT?! Okay okay okay.. I can TOTALLY DO THIS.

*pulls up to the front of Target after driving the 300 yards from the parking spot*

*Breathes HUGE sigh of relief* I did it… I didn’t kill anyone, I didn’t kill myself… and the truck has no dents. I did it. I drove. Crushed it.

Readjustment 3: Getting used to how massive trucks and semis and just cars in general are. WHY ARE 18 WHEELERS SO HUGE?! I mean they scared me before I left, but geez louize they are actually the size of like 4 apartments in Europe. I could live in that thing! WITH children!!

Readjustment 4: Portion sizes… WHO THE CRAP NEEDS 70 ounces OF DRINK?!?! The answer? No one. No one needs a drink that size.. how does anyone even consume that much soda.. that is just unhealthy.

Readjustment 5: everybody speaking English, and everybody is saying hi to me and asking how I am.. “Um.. I’m fine thanks…” *wonders if I should ask back…* At the grocery store everyone talks to each other and mingles and asks questions and politely scoots by each other. And every conversation I over hear is in English.. EVERYONE speaks English.. I guess I should stop thinking about and trying to greet everyone in Czech..

Readjustment 6: If you’ve ever been to Texas you know how massive the sky is. The sky literally stretches for miles all around you. The sky is everywhere. You don’t have to look up to see the sky. THERE IS SO MUCH SKY. Look at all that blue!!

Being back in America has been a lot of readjustment. It’s been over a month of being back and I still find myself listening to people speak English and thinking to myself, I wonder what country their from.. and then realizing “oh wait, I’m in America..” I can’t get used to everyone being so nice, like literally everyone asks how I am, and the girl at REI stands there and helps me for an hour while I try to find the right hiking boot. HOW NICE. I can’t get used to it. I have yet to acclimate to the fact that I don’t need wifi to do stuff like surf the web or Instagram photos. I have service everywhere! I also don’t have to wonder if what I’m doing or if my cultural norms negatively affect the people around me. Because I’m at home, and this is my culture. COOL.

Being back has been a month of readjusting, paired with realizing all of the amazing things I miss about Prague. Like public transportation. I miss the metro, okay. I miss the metro system way more than I should. I cannot handle traffic. WHERE IS MY BELOVED METRO?

I miss beers costing less than water. I miss being legal. I miss being taken seriously. I miss living in a foreign place where I have no idea what people are saying. I miss seeing something new and beautiful and bridges older than my own country everyday. I miss walking everywhere. I miss cute coffee shops hidden in courtyards. I miss new countries and new foods and new cultures.

The list of things I miss could fill a library. Literally.

Being home is great though, it really is, I’ve learned that not everyday has to be a new country, that simply being at home watching America’s Got Talent with my mom is enough. That sometimes simply going to the river is enough of an adventure for one day. That tanning out in the sun is great and getting copious amounts of vitamin D results in an adventure of peeling all of your bright red skin off, no matter how much aloe you slather on.

I think this reverse culture shock thing will be going on for a while, and I’m sure i’ll have another melt down when I finally get brave enough to venture in to the Walmart. I’ll let you know how that goes, say prayers for me y’all, pray that I make it out of Walmart alive.

All I have left to say is that culture is a weird thing, and going from one culture to another in one 10 hour span of travel is a crazy thing to deal with. And going from two opposite ends of the culture spectrum is even weirder.

This concludes all of my posts about my endeavors abroad.

Stay tuned though, I’ve got stories about blisters the size of quarters, bloody socks, hikes through the Grand Canyon, and a 20 mile hike through Big Bend.