In reference to what it was like when I first moved to America, I was recently asked, "What were some things that took getting used to?"
I've been pondering this. There are the obvious things:
+ you drive on the other side of the road
+ your light switches go the opposite way off/on
+ you all have accents (yes all of you)
+ the money is different, and in different denominations
+ your slang is different
etc.
Then there are the more subtle ones:
+ social politeness nuances that offend people before you know they exist
+ finding that most everything at the grocery store has the same name but random small items you need but can't find for months don't, until by accident you discover they've been sitting under your nose all that time disguised as something else
+ realizing that for some reason my accent and the various other accents have trouble understanding each other, even though we know we're all speaking English. it's frustrating for them as much as for me, because they're expecting I'm American
+ random car styles, house styles that have the same name look completely different
+ going into a situation that seems familiar, but finding out part way through a process or tiny aspect is different, throwing you off and making you feel small, stupid and foolish, because it is inevitably followed by an annoyed look, a sarcastic comment, or some other belittling gesture that lets you know exactly how dumb you are for being in your mid-twenties and apparently unaware of a very adult thing
+ having your lack of friends and family, job, church and independence reveal every possible insecurity you have, often to people who don't care about you, as you have to slowly over many years piece back together all the parts of your life thrown open wide by marriage, moving and subsequent grief and loneliness
+ being afraid to go outside because stepping outside your door will only show you again how unfamiliar it all is.
+ being brave enough to step out your door, only to find yourself rejected
+ not being able to recognize yourself
+ constantly feeling like for every step forward, you take two steps back
+ having questions on why people do things the way they do, without being able to find reasonable answers
+ making all new friends, sometimes with people you HAD to befriend
+ going without platonic hugs
I'm sure there are more, but my brain is wrecked.
Oh, and I promise this is not a pity party - and to that end I'm considering disabling comments on this one because I don't want people compelled out of pity or compassion to write something in return. Ok, I've thought about it, and I won't disable them. Just please don't write me because you feel sorry for me ok? I'm just answering the question, as much for that person as for myself, because I am reaching or perhaps have reached something of a turning point, where I feel like I can say these things and realize they are a part of me - a significant part of me - but I'm getting over it. It's time to get over it.
Of course, I say that now and 2 or 3 months from now I'll probably hit some situation and think, "wow, I didn't think that would affect me" or "wow, I thought I was over that", and feel disappointed in myself.**
On a brighter note -
Things I am looking forward to about going back:
+ driving on the right side of the road
+ seeing my family
+ seeing my friends
+ sausages in bread, tasty cheese, instant coffee and biscuits, peter's ice cream, custard in a carton.
+ fish and chips, sausage rolls, chico rolls and dim sims
+ familiar grocery stores
+ my kids staying in the house I grew up in, taking them to places dear to my younger heart
+ funky other little stores that I can't get here
+ having my rings re-dipped in the right carat gold
+ wandering downtown and being a grown up again
+ the Wok-on-Inn
+ passionfruit gelati
+ Guruva
and last but not least,
+ seeing my little sister get married
**It didn't take 2-3 months, it happened tonight.
