I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced “reverse culture shock,” but the term “reverse culture stress” resonates a bit with this TCK. Returning to one’s passport country sounds like it should be easy and a welcome reprieve from some of those hard differences another culture can bring, but the truth is that it carries its own challenges. Some might be pathetically minor, but it’s crazy how they can still affect my everyday. For instance, what’s up with this shreddable, soft stuff people call toilet paper here? And why does choosing a loaf of bread take me 10 whole minutes?
Some of the changes are indeed wonderful. I’m speaking of you, air conditioning on those three-digit-degree days, and you, Caribou Coffee (where I currently sit). I both love the freedom to run to the store on a Sunday afternoon and at the same time wish the neighbors weren’t mowing the grass. How am I supposed to take my Sunday nap? Give me all the Mexican food, please, but you can keep all that ice away from my drink, thank you very much. I’m grateful I know how to speak up for myself in restaurants and that customer service is such a high priority that I will always get what I ask for, yet I wish they wouldn’t rush me out of there after 45 minutes. I’m here to visit with my friend!
Far trickier culture stresses are the internal ones I wrestle with in my mind: should I be bringing a hostess gift to dinner? What’s the appropriate time frame for showing up to an appointment with someone? 5 minutes early? 10 minutes late? How and when do I offer to pay, and how or when do I allow someone else to pay on my behalf? Are there signals to this dance? How long do I wait before reaching out a second time to someone who hasn’t responded yet to a message? These thoughts feel barely worth mentioning, and yet, because I don’t live here day in and day out, these are the minor stresses I conscientiously think about often.
Sometimes it just helps to verbalize: belonging to a place that you don’t live in regularly isn’t always comfortable. But I wouldn’t trade being here for the world either. I learned at a workshop once that stress isn't good or bad. It just is. How we respond to it is the more telling part in whether we're keeping healthy or not. So here I am, staring reverse culture stress in the face, and saying "Bring it on! I'm here, and I'm grateful." Just another part of the TCK life.
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