Ten Month Review

Well, here we are.

I have a few things to admit. I haven't been writing, because it makes me feel too emotionally attached to experience. I haven't been taking pictures, because I've convinced myself there's nothing to see. I haven't been keeping in touch, because keeping in touch means I'm not there anymore. Let's face it, I've spent the last ten months in denial!

Leaving a country is hard. And it gets harder the longer you're away from that home. Whether it's the home you grew up in, or the home you made for yourself - it's not easy. A constant note that's been running through my head is a conversation I had at Christmas with my cousin on the phone. He spent nearly a decade in Scotland. He asked me, "How have you been finding it?". I replied, "...It's an adjustment." He told me, "No, it doesn't get any easier."

And it doesn't. And I guess what I've discovered is that it won't. But it's at the point where it's either I have to come to terms with it, or drive myself mad. I think I'll try the former.

I've recently received my certification in TESL/TEFL, and one thing we talked about on the course was culture shock. We talked about symptoms - physical, mental and emotional, about causes and about ways to combat it. Then our instructor asked, "Can you get culture shock when returning home?" The class was silent for a moment, and then a conclusive "yes."

I felt guilty thinking back to 2010 about the summer I spent in Russia. I soaked EVERYTHING up (including copious amounts of vodka) and was so excited for every single cultural experience. But there was a student in my class from the U of M on the trip who was not so keen. He spent countless hours in his room watching Family Guy, drinking Pepsi and eating Lays chips. He wouldn't come out with us, he skipped a lot of classes and he didn't want to speak any Russian. He didn't care to see the city or go to restaurants or try any of the traditional Russian dishes. He sat and watched his Family Guy and ate his North American comfort food. And it bugged me. Why wouldn't you want to love this country with every cell on your body? Why wouldn't you want to hang out with locals and drink local beer and vodka and eat borscht and pelmeni and blini every single day? Why sit in your room and only eat the things that remind you of home?

And when I realised, in our discussion about culture shock, that I completely misunderstood culture shock. It's not because you want to sit in your room and eat hobnobs, drink buckets of Yorkshire Red tea and watch BBC programmes and post numerous "Hey Mate!"'s on your friends' Facebook profiles who aren't there.

It's because coping is hard. Escape to your comfort zone is easier.

I'm learning to see things in a different light. Slowly, but learning at least.