Coming "home": a reverse culture shock story (part 1)

The terminology is seemingly innocuous : coming back home.

It doesn't matter how it's worded:  "Are you going home this summer?" "When are you coming home?"  Whether I'm coming or going, everyone refers to the place I originally came from as home.  But what if it isn't?

The concept of home carries so many implications -- security, intimacy, familiarity, acceptance, belonging.  But what if that isn't the case?  What if I'm not coming home, but simply relocating to a place I used to live?  I don't mean to sound heartless, but the associations that come with the mention of home do not necessarily ring true for me.   The most I can say is my hometown is familiar to me.  It is not secure or intimate. Can I really claim my hometown in Oregon as "home" if I haven't lived there in a decade? Yes, it is a town I've lived in the longest - about 15 years - and yes, I still have family in town.  But is it still my home?

While living overseas, I've had to consciously stop myself from correcting others when they ask when I'm "going home".  I set down roots.  I made Thailand, and then Korea, my home.  I did not see myself leaving Asia anytime soon.  Yet to expats and locals alike, when summer or Christmas rolled around, the inevitable question would pop up innocently enough: "Are you going home?"  I wanted to tell them, "I am home!"  "This is my home!" But I knew what people meant: a return to where I once lived. Perhaps I recoiled from the idea because of the overall implication that where I was currently living was only temporary; that I'd eventually return to my "hometown".

Little did they know that I carried home with me.  Home was where I lay down roots; found a community; invested in the life around me; learned to function in a culture different than my own.

So did I return home?  The difficulties in answering this question is that when I came back to Oregon, I already knew it was on a temporary basis.  I couldn't lay down roots and settle in because I was already planning on leaving 6-8 months later. This has made reverse culture shock extra difficult to manage, mostly because the entire process of acclimating to a new culture (or old in this case) is allowing yourself to settle in.  I couldn't settle in because it would make uprooting even harder to handle.

I'm content calling this "home" for now.  But in a few months, Greece will be my home.  And after that, who knows?

I know the world is only a temporary home.  One day I'll be in my forever-home.  It makes drifting from one place to another infinitely easier.  I hold people and places loosely.  I cherish friendships when I am present, yet feel blessed to have friends world-wide.

I've learned to hold home close to the chest.  It is not a place; it is a feeling.


Note: I don't know how long I will write about this subject, but there will be a few installments concerning reverse culture shock.

A reflection on the past

For someone who thrives on living life abroad and the continuous challenges that come with the territory, transitioning back to America has most definitely been the hardest thing I've had to do in a long time.  Moving to Korea in 2016 had its own challenges, but it was a change I sought.  And somehow it was a change that allowed me to regain some semblance of control.  (Yeah right).  When I made the decision to move back to Oregon, it was purposeful, but I knew, I knew, control was not in my grasp.  I knew I was giving up independence.  I knew I was giving up space.  I knew I was giving up financial security.  And I knew I was giving up a community that had become my safety net.
I also knew that I would be entering the phase of reverse culture shock. I tried preparing myself by reading what others wrote on the subject.  But in the same way reading a travel book is nothing like experiencing that travel destination, knowing about the challenges of re-entry didn't lessen the blow.  However, this is not a post about reverse culture shock.  I know, it really looked like I was finally getting into the subject I've been hedging for several posts now.  One day I'll get around to writing about it -- the good, the bad, the ugly.

For now, let's take a look back at 2018...

I took not one, but two trips to Guam within about 5 weeks of each other.  This island holds a lot of special memories from childhood, but is also breathtaking in its own right.  Although I was young when I used to live there, none of those memories were diminished by returning as an adult, (as is often the case).  Actually, I believe the nostalgia intensified my joy at being back in a place I first called home.  It was wonderful experiencing it with first my brother, and then with some friends. 

I was thrilled to be able to attend the Winter Olympics held in South Korea in February.  It was incredible, although entirely too cold for me.  The events I focused on were ice hockey and ice skating; both indoor sports of course. Sharing it with these folks made it all the better!

The end of March brought me and a small YISS team to Bangkok for our short-term mission trip.  I went last year, but this year I had the privilege of leading the team back to my old stomping grounds.  It was both fulfilling and stressful.  We had a lot of last minute challenges pop up, including losing team members, but through it all, God was faithful.  The girls were safe and had a great time.  It was beautiful seeing them step up as leaders and minister to both children and women. (It took a lot of scrounging for pictures; somehow I deleted all of mine! Yes, I'm devastated.)

I've mentioned my Seoul community before, but now I want to show you them, because they helped keep me sane, grow in my faith, and support me through my self-discovery. Everything from after church lunches and hangouts, to beach trips, to potlucks, to weddings - my heart was filled to overflowing with this bunch!

But then the arduous task of goodbyes came, and I eased some of the pain by visiting SE Asia before returning to America.  I spent my birthday in Chiang Mai with friends, visiting the children's home I had become attached to, and eating my way through the city.  With a brief stop in Bangkok visiting with my old church family, I was on my way to Manila for a whirlwind visit!

August/September brought me to Greece for two reasons: volunteer with Lighthouse Relief again, and conduct a vision trip to gain a greater understanding of what lay in store for me with GEM as I raised support.  This trip was so incredibly crucial! Not only was I able to gain first-hand experience with refugees and learn more about the situation in Greece, but it helped me figure out where I want to serve once my support is raised.  I thought I'd be heading back to Lesvos, but God showed me the need in Athens was much greater and where I could serve to the best of my abilities.

And finally, learning how to live life in rural Oregon again.  Eight years in giant metropolitan areas conditioned me for a different lifestyle, but returning to Oregon where everyone speaks English and engages in small talk on a regular basis made me feel like a fish out of water.  It's not the thriving one might expect returning to one's hometown.  It's not the ease, the relief, of slipping back into the intimately familiar.  But, that's for another post.  Instead, it is reacquainting myself with childhood friends.  It is remembering how to socialize with Oregonians exclusively.  It is readjusting to a slower pace of life with nature at one's fingertips.  And it is ultimately a time to thank God in all things -- even when I do not feel thankful.  Because how can I be who God wants me to be without being sharpened by the people He brings into my life?

As I look forward to what 2019 holds, I am confident that God will carry me through the challenges and bring me out the other side more resilient than ever.