Some Helpful Tips

Alright, y'all. I've decided that there will only be two more posts before this cute little blog gets tied up. 

After all, I'm not in China anymore, right? 

What? AAAH. 

As somebody who is going through the awkward stages of Just-Got-Back-In-The-Country syndrome, I thought it would be helpful to write some insider tips for you, my dear Have-Been-In-The-Country-For-A-While readers, on how to deal with people like me. 

You'd think I'd write this from encounters with insensitive people, but my friends back here in 'Merica have actually been very understanding and loving about my syndrome (which has helped me oh so very much) so a lot of these lessons come from positive experiences.

Let's get down to business. 

1. The classic conversation starters: 

 "Sooooo...Chinaaaa...." 

("So what?")

"Hey pal! How was China?"  

("Oh, you know. Just the biggest experience of my life so far. Or are we talking about the country as a whole?") 

And my favorite..."Was China really different from America?" 

("Nah, they're essentially the same. Asian rednecks everywhere, eating grilled cheese and playing football.")

One of the best ways to start a conversation with someone who just got back from being in a foreign country is to say something like, "Hey, YOU, I heard you just got back from ____. Are you adjusting back ok?" Then ask about what they were doing there, if they want to go back, and how they are doing now. If you're hanging out together for a long time--like for a meal or coffee--feel free to ask more questions. I love it when people ask me about: 

• my teaching situation and my students. 
• what team life was like. 
• the places I got to go and the things I got to see. 
• what I learned and how I changed this year. 
• the things I did outside of school. 
• the aspects of Chinese culture that I really liked. 

What is hard to answer are general questions and negative statements. 

"How did you ever survive?" 

"Do they really eat dog all the time?"

"Everybody's really oppressed over there, aren't they?" 

2. Communication:

I'm still re-wetting my feet in the world of constant communication, and I'm finding that it's hard to keep up with texts, calls, facebook, emails, and all the ways you talk to people without seeing their faces. 

When you get back from out of the country, everyone comes out of the woodwork to see you. 

Which is great for me, because I like visiting with people. 

But I'm really bad at responding to texts, messages, and calls right now because I forgot how to juggle things and use a planner, and suddenly my calendar feels WAY more full than it has in months. It's been a blessing that my friends expected this and understand when it takes me a long time to get back to them. 

That said, please feel free to be in touch with me (and anybody else who has just come back into the country), but remember that it may take a little time for us to see each other, and that doesn't mean I don't love you. 

Because I do. 

I just have no idea what's happening with my ever-changing schedule a lot of the time.

3. Communication #B

I am so very, very thankful for all the good friends I have who kept in contact with me while I was away, because it was made coming back easier.

Of course, I didn't expect every person I had ever met to skype me all the time while I was in China, but keeping in touch with good friends there made it easier to pick back up with them here.

So if your friend goes away to a foreign country for an extended period of time, the best way to show them they are loved is to simply find times to communicate with them, long or short--skype, notes, messages, emails, facebook wall posts, etc. If you don't have money to send a package or time to go to the post office to send a letter, just use the internet. Even if they don't get back to you, know that you just gave them a burst of love and encouragement.

Some days it will make all the difference, and when that person returns, they will feel more comfortable talking to you because they know you really cared about them while they were gone. 

And, yes, I labeled this tip #B on purpose.

4. "What's next?"

 Another classic, terrifying question. 

I am as guilty as everyone else about asking this question to people who aren't yet sure about the answer.

It's a great question, really, and I've mostly gotten used to it by now, but it's still very intimidating when it's one of the first three questions I'm asked in a conversation. 

 "How are you?"

"How was China?" 

"What's next?"

It's more helpful when this question comes after people have asked me how I'm adjusting. It's also helpful when it's followed up with, "How can I pray specifically about that?"

5. What it really comes down to is...

being gracious and loving. 

I'm rediscovering regular small talk and learning things about myself that are sometimes good and sometimes frustrating. Reverse culture shock is a little bit different for everybody and there isn't a formula for what people like me are going through. Just love us, ask us questions, listen to our answers, understand when we go on rants about culture, and give us time. 

Which is the way we should be treating each other all the time, right?

Some Thoughts on Being Home

I've been eating cereal at least two times a day, if not three. 

I stare at a lot of things. 

I stare at grass, I stare at my house, I stare at the sky, I stare at rain, and I walk out into the middle of the street just so I can have a clear view to stare at the sunset. 

Everything is really clean. 

The air smells like green things instead of exhaust, smoke, dust, and poo.

Solitude and quiet is so very, very amazing. 

If a rock and a slug had a baby...that's what American food makes me feel like. 

I don't feel sick, I just feel like I weigh a thousand pounds and don't like moving as much as I did in China.

I miss using Chinese words on a daily basis, even though I didn't know many of them. 

Sometimes I also miss squatty potties, but only when I come across public toilet seats that are particularly over-used.

Calendars and planners are wicked, terrifying necessities.

I'm much more comfortable than I used to be when talking to people I don't know well. 

Usually this is a good thing. 

The gift of walking in bare feet is indescribable.

Life is stretched thinner when you have more than five other Americans to keep up with.

My attention span is already shorter than it used to be. 

No matter where I happen to live, I'm never very good at keeping my room tidy. 

It's hard to make plans when I'm not sure exactly where I'll be in August. 

Making plans is, unfortunately, much more of a priority in America. 

I'm much calmer than I once was. 

I've also turned into MIZ INDEPENDENT.

Does this happen to most almost-23-year-olds?

I have rare moments of acute sadness where I'm able to clearly recall my students' voices, laughter, hugs, and excitement. I get misty-eyed when I remember that I won't be returning to see them. Ever.

Dryers are such FABULOUS inventions. So are dishwashers. 

I get angry whenever I see a national news report about what somebody said on TWITTER or FACEBOOK and how somebody else was offended. 

Really?

I spent a year in a place where people called me "foreigner" on a daily basis and NOBODY cared. 

For the record, I don't condone racism, but I think as a nation we need to be a little less sensitive about things people say without thinking and be a little more sensitive about, OH, I don't know, maybe thousands of people worldwide dying of curable diseases on a daily basis or even national debt. 

C'mon, guys. 

I like to drive, partly because I got a new car, but mostly because driving is wonderful. 

America is full of soft things to cuddle with, like couches, beds, and house pets.

I've hardly taken any pictures since being back and I don't understand why.

I've had several people ask if I'm still a student. 

Sometimes they mean high school. 

Do I need to break out my "I'm a Grown-Up" badge?

Entitlement comes in all shapes and sizes. 

Sometimes it even comes in Laura-size, and I hate that.

I got misty-eyed while watching a show at Dollywood. Then I got sick off of their cinnamon bread, and I didn't care.

Sometimes when I look at the Smoky Mountains, I feel like I'm seeing a piece of heaven.

My new wheels. 

Her name is Le'monjuice (put on your ghetto accent and say "Luh-mon-jew-eese") and, yes, I will be the one paying for her.

The Goodbye List

In an earlier blog, I wrote about all the people I was having to say goodbye to and realized what an extensive list it was. Building relationships in a place is hard--because sometimes you have to say goodbye for what might be forever.
Being back in the States is really great in a lot of ways, but I think I've been distracting myself so much since I've been back that I haven't been able to address the feeling in my heart that something (or someone--even lots of someones) is missing.
It's not as hard to address the culture shock as it is figuring out the stages of grief.
Of course, being sad about leaving those relationships behind means that they were good, and I suppose that is great and wonderful.

Anyway, here are some visuals for all those folks that I loved and knew in China (writing that in past tense is weird). 

The team at Zhong Bei University

Our Foreign Fellowship

(most of the families happened to missing from the particular Sunday that this was taken, so imagine about twice as many people here.)

My co-teachers

Gerry 

My wonderful, beautiful babies

Taiyuan Teens (meaning kids, volunteers, and the camp)

The ladies at the shop across the street

The school guards

Friends in other parts of China

My team

It's been hard for me to connect back to these relationships because nothing in my American life includes them other than my pictures, memories, and things I brought home with me (except for my teammates and stateside friends--we have phone numbers but I don't see them anymore).
So far it's like nothing changed, except that I feel a gap inside and every once in a while something will remind of my students enough to bring tears to my eyes.
Readjusting is such an interesting process.

Processing

Guess who's been home for a week now. 

(WHAT?)

This weekend I promised myself that I'd start trying to communicate with the outside world by Monday. 

I procrastinated a day, sorry. 

A week ago, I landed in Knoxville (at 11 p.m.--yikes) to find this gaggle of people waiting for me: 

 

It was awesome.

 

There were four signs, six different kinds of m&m's, one princess fairytale book, and twenty-four people waiting for me to get off the plane. 

 I'm blessed. 

At Fellowship, Mike and Ruth Beagan (thanks, guys!) set up a reception for me with cake, cupcakes, and punch and strung pictures of my babies up in the middle of the room. 

Beautiful.

And now I'm hitting the very strange phenomenon commonly known as reverse culture shock.

Everything feels the same--sort of--but I have all this new stuff in my room and something seems to be really off. 

Did I go somewhere?

When I came back from my ten-week internship in Uganda, the shock was obvious. I was angry at America, I felt very out of place, and in social settings I was always labeled as "Laura who went to Africa". 

This time around, it seems to be a lot more subtle. 

I feel a bit like somebody has died, but I'm not ready to go back and look at their old stuff yet because it would be too hard. Part of me wants to pretend that I fit in the way I did before, because I'm not yet ready to process what's happened and who I've become. 

At some point, I need to ask a friend to sit down for a while and help me figure it out...but I might need a little more time before that happens. Which is ok, because readjusting takes time.

After all, I've only been here for a week. 

Weird.