On Being Back Part 2

Displacement

I may repeat a few ideas from the post before this*

Some days are definitely  easier than others. I find myself irritated at the little things. The man who didn't say thank you, the kid who was unnecessarily rude, the list could go on. It's the little things that drive you up the wall and I don't realize I've become snippy until I've snapped at someone.

I don't mean to do it, but I do. The irritability is there and it's because... well it's kind of hard to explain. Imagine going through your day with a sense of wrongness about certain things. I'm not using chopsticks at every meal, it's unacceptable to bath together here, and I have a language that is blunt to work with instead of Japanese. Japanese tends to dance around the subject and lets you infer it through the things you talk about. My day feels off kilter because of this, this feeling that certain things are missing.

Not that I'm not happy! Don't get me wrong, I am very happy to be home. I've missed my family and friends, I've missed hanging out with them and just being around them. Like everyone says, it feels just like when I first went on exchange.

I don't let myself think about Japan just as I didn't let myself dwell on America when I first went to Japan. I don't try and focus on the differences just yet, because I'm still the the very euphoric phase of 'I'm home!' and 'everything is so familiar and I've missed so many things'. I have been told that when this phase wears off, you begin to focus more on the differences and judge things differently because of them.

On a side-note, I miss my classmates. I look at their pictures, their gifts to me, and it pulls my heart. These kids, more accepting than most adults were in the situation I was in, let me into their world. Oh yes there was the rocky road of bullying and racism, but once I blasted past that, I felt at home. I miss the talks of mixed English and Japanese, the laughter and jokes that needed no language to be understood. I miss their random hugs and closeness. Don't let stereotypes fool you, Japanese people (once you are welcomed into their circle) have no boundary lines. It's usually male to male or female to female, very rarely do the lines cross in that sense. They will hug you, touch your arm, play with your hair and clothing, and they will touch your face. When someone began brushing up against me, I took it as a sign that I was welcomed to do the same and that they considered me their friend. There was a lot of subtle body language like that, and I miss it. I miss having random hugs because I walked down the hallway, or the hair tugging of friends who wanted me to put my hair down so they could play with it. You could say I miss the skinship/friendship that came with my lady friends.

This skinship also blended into family life. I'm used to laying on the ground and having my kids climb over me and snuggle next to me for a nap, but I can't stand it when my own siblings back home do that to me. It feels like it's not right in the sense that they aren't my host siblings and that it isn't their place to do it. But their are my siblings, blood siblings. Does this make me a bad sister? Or just a confused bi-cultural person stuck between home and home trying to figure it all out again.

I thought the idea of reverse culture shock was stupid. I'll be honest and say that I thought it would never happen to me. I was too well prepared, I was too well informed, but here I am. I didn't realized that I suffered from culture shock in Japan because I took everything in stride in hopes of becoming a part of their world and lives, and now I'm back home going through the same thing. But I'm not sure where I stand. Going to Japan I knew my place, I knew I was an ambassador between the cultures. I was there to show that not all Americans are what the stereotypes of my people portray. Now I am home and without that purpose anymore. I don't know my place anymore. Yes, I am a college student. Yes, I am a Rebound (Rotary term for returned exchange students). Yes, I am an American. But no, I am not an ambassador anymore. I don't go to functions to give speeches about the differences and similarities between Japan and America. I am only asked to talk about 'my trip' or 'my vacation'.  I'm missing a part of my life that had been there when I was living in Japan.

People don't really care to hear about the sadness in life. Few people care to hear the bad parts of your daily life in the first place, no one wants to hear about the bullying, the racism, and the pain exchange students endure to get to best parts.  All of this was my life in Japan.  All of the happiness and sadness was apart of the identity I had in Japan. I my mind, every inch I gained in knowledge made the victories and fun times even sweeter. The struggle was what made it all worth it, but no one really wants to hear about that.  I can't blame them, I can only be frustrated and confide in my fellow rebounds.  Which I have to recommend to others who have also returned. (I will write a blog on the difficult spots)

I find it hard to go through pictures to make a presentation because the memories are still fresh and I haven't really looked into the pain of separation from the people I had welded myself to for a year.  Well, 318 days if we are going to be specific.  I don't want to look at the pictures, because I don't want to be sad.  I want to be happy, being home should be a happy thing and it is.  I just... it's hard to explain and put into words.  My fellow rebounds surely feel this too.  Memories are powerful things.

I feel dreamlike in my return.  I stopped myself from thinking about going home for so long, now that I am home it's almost too surreal to be true.  I'm home, I'm speaking English, I'm communicating perfectly (most of the time, I still screw up English on occasion), and I'm back with my family.  When I speak sometimes I feel like I'm making nonsense noises.  I don't feel like I'm actually speaking but everyone seems to get what I'm saying even if I feel like I don't know what I'm saying.  I just feel detached in that way. 

Starting my job back up has helped, it gives me an outlet where I have to interact with people and it gives me a schedule that I have to follow.  It gives me a busier day that varies, I was used to never knowing what would happen that day.  Adrenaline became a daily part of my life, and now that I'm back, it's almost hum-drum because there is nothing to really surprise me, and no communication or language that I have to struggle through.

Not to say I'm bored, but that I feel at ease.  I feel comfortable here.  I was used to being on the edge of my seat, always thinking, always planning, always translating one thing or another.  It was a rush, always being unsure.  Being back home and in a place that I can easily communicate and read, I feel like I'm missing some edge that I had while in Japan.

There may be a Part 3 of this series eventually, as I continue through this reverse culture shock.  I think the next update will be a little happier.