Reverse Culture Shock

Let me give you a brief education on culture shock. There are usually four phases: Honeymoon, hostility, negotiation (readjustment), and home. Within a household of six individual people, the phases come at different intensities and paces. The last time we went through this, my husband was in hostility stage and I was in the honeymoon phase. I was trying to convince him we could order pizza in a totally unknown language and make the best of it. He rode his bicycle two miles in -5F to pick up the pizza himself. Though his beard was frozen, he had warm pizza.

Now we have experienced reverse culture shock. Coming back to the US, the honeymoon phase was good. Going to places like Target on a Saturday night was like a salve for the soul.

Customer service is pretty good here and I cannot get over the ultra friendliness of everyone. Whether it's fake or real doesn't matter. They seem to care about my cart of stuff. I've noticed my kids smiling a lot. They're singing in the stores again. In Russia we maintained the indifferent face everywhere we went. They are also enjoying wearing jackets and hoodies on warmer days instead of being forced to wear hats, scarves, and full snowsuits. My apartment felt huge, I loved hopping in the car to go anywhere, and I couldn't wait to go see the sights in DC.

We got our shipment, our apartment feels smaller (even after THREE trips to Goodwill), and I am annoyed having to drive certain places. Isn't there a bus that goes there?

After six months of being in the US, I am still utterly shocked at how loud patrons maintain their volume. We went out for dinner at Johnny Rockets for Valentine's Day with the kids. The lady behind us belted out a blast laugh every few minutes. Number 2 kept jumping out of his seat and eventually quit eating because he was afraid he would choke after such surprise. It seems loud everywhere, even the library.

On the up side, I bought all beef hot-dogs and Kona beer at my local supermarket last night. And Twizzlers, Bugles, and Hazelnut Creamer. Oh, and that Breyer's Ice Cream and the HoHo's.
I went to the Weanie Beanie and had a Washington DC special half-smoke.

I was reading a study today that said some are unable to assimilate into their host culture and end up adopting ghetto mentality. This means they find people who are similar to them in culture, experience, and memory. Without even realizing it, we've done that. Lots of people around here have lived overseas, packed up their whole lives, and whisked their families away for the adventure. Many have come back, managed to begin again, and still always feel out of place. We find these types of people at church, the supermarket, the library, and even at the local parks.

We are living among our peers. I find that I naturally gravitate toward those military spouses whose husbands are deployed. I find friends in single parents where I don't have to justify that my spouse is gone 70% of the time. I find friends in people whose demographics are starkly different from mine. The fact is, I've found people. People who 'get' me. People who are willing to invest in a relationship whether it's two months or two years.

This summer, some of my favorite friends from everywhere will stop by. We'll be together again, even if it's just for a short time. We'll enjoy baseball, beer, and memories of days past. And if I missed you this time around, I'll see you before too long. People like us can't stay away.