An Ode to Culture Shock

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor … or, I guess, rock strewn path, mountainside, whatever.

Yes folks, that bit of Poe-ishness is in celebration of the fact that I have been “home” for about a year now. Is the culture shock finished? For the most part, yes. I still awake in the wee small hours of the morning and have a few moments of “where in the world (literally) am I?”

You see, I moved so many times during my year before living in Guatemala, my almost two years in Guatemala and now my almost one year returned from Guatemala, that my brain has yet to settle into one country, let alone one building!

I do tend to float out of sleep every now and then, completely convinced that I am lying in my bed, just off of the open-air courtyard of my co-expat Valerie’s home. I can smell the tropical breeze, I can taste the earthiness of the air, I can feel the unbridled freedom that accompanies living abroad.

My brain slowly starts to whirl with its own little checklist of what I need to buy from the market; should I chill at the park today? Where will I be lugging my laptop today? Do I need to say a few prayers (because I need to ride the chicken bus)? Whom do I need to meet up with?

Should I make any calls today or should I just disappear into Café No Se’s dark, eccentric, traveler-laden interior and see who I can meet? Or should I disappear into the surrounding mountain towns again; really feel the third world’s jungle close in about me?

Then it hits me. Nope, I’m in my condo or I’m at my amazing girlfriend’s house. Snap out of it, dude.

As the holidays approach, my mind tends to turn to my people abroad. Last year at this time, I was barely a member of these United States again. Thanksgiving crashed down upon me. I sat at a table, surrounded by numerous friends and family, people who had – just days before – been thousands of miles away from me.

In front of me was a plate piled high with food. I could not wrap my head around the abundance going on in front of me. I had went from beans and tortillas for lunch every day (when in Guatemala City) and small portions of exotic street foods and fruits for dinner, to this mammoth plate of meats and starches lying before me.

My mind was spinning. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. If the Safe Passage kids could see me now! They’d be like, “Que en la mundo?”

The joy of being “home” was only equaled by the sadness of being non-Guate once again.

Christmas came just as fast as Thanksgiving, it seemed. The lights and trees and abundance of giving brought my mind around just enough to enjoy my most favorite of holidays. But, yet again, there was a layer of sadness present underneath my joy.

Christmas in Guatemala was spent on the ocean, hotter than I’ve ever been, taking long draws off of cold Gallo and peeling the skin off of my freshly caught, perfectly cooked fish. There were gifts, there was a tree, of sorts, there were friends, but there was no familiar Christmas cheer. The Christmas I knew in Guate (along with the Thanksgiving that brought a weird, yet lovely, mix of Italian and Guatemalan fare) was raw, it was completely new and it ended under a barrage of fireworks that filled Antigua’s valley with various colored smoke.

This year, I feel that I am ready for the shenanigans that surround our most treasured of holidays.

Armed with my Bell’s Christmas Ale and fresh off the Turkey Trot stomach, I am supremely prepared for two, yes two, Thanksgiving meals. The Lions better win as they will be my only entertainment in my near coma/paralyzed state.

And, armed with my 3-D glasses and my State Theatre tickets, I am more than prepared for Christmas fun.

That’s right world, I am (mostly) back. This past year has (mostly) healed my mind of culture shock.

Yet, there remains a sadness within me, however slight. I feel it now. It yearns for Guatemala and Toku Bar.

This year, I am thankful to have had something so very amazing in my life that I should pause and miss it so very much.

Feliz comiendo! (Happy eating!)