friends from the market I frequent, the day before I left for the States

I have at least a couple blog posts backlogged in my mind about things that happened in my last few months in Bangkok.  But first I thought I’d jot down some of the random things swirling around in the front of my mind as I transition back to life in America.

This time, unlike my visit half way through my term, the change feels less shocking.  I think memories of that first reverse culture shock have helped me to be less surprised.  But still, this is a big change.

I was often over-stimulated in Bangkok, being the crazy, noisy, city full of contradictions that never sleeps or slows down that it is.  But somehow I often feel over-stimulated here in small-town Oregon, too.  In stores, I can’t just scan over items anymore– every product and label is unfamiliar or at least something I haven’t looked at in years.  I forget what items are common and what aren’t (where are the long rows of soy sauce?  single-serving soy milk?  pepsi max?  nescafe packets?)  I don’t know what things are supposed to cost.  And there’s just things for sale now I’ve never heard of (enhanced water??).

Other times, I’m struck by the vacuum of sound.  The only time I was ever in a silent environment in Bangkok was on a relatively quiet night with my earplugs in.  This is something I longed for there, and don’t get me wrong– it’s nice.  But sometimes it can seem a little, I don’t know, creepy.

It’s also weird to live in such an isolated bubble from my neighbors.  The people I see or even who come to our house are connected to us in some way other than geographical, for the most part.  It’s strange to leave the neighborhood and come back without greeting people, having a couple little kids grab my hands and walk me home, buying some fried snack being sold by a neighbor along the way.  I miss that.  The independent side of me (and it is a well-developed side) likes the privacy and freedom of this lifestyle, but also feels the loss of that kind of community I’d lived in for five years.

I’m always cold.  Except when I’m in my bedroom with the space heater on high and many layers of clothes on.

I never have a sense of what time of day it is because it’s so dark all day long.  Ah, Oregon, I love your beautiful hillsides and colorful leaves, but you sure can be gloomy most of the time.

Everything is easier about life here.  Hard to believe I got so used to 20 minute walks to the bus stop every morning, breathing in black traffic fumes, sweating all but a couple hours of the day, dodging downpours, switching between languages, struggling to keep food fresh, setting out glue traps for rats, cooking (and eating) on the floor, doing laundry by hand and trying to get it dry in muggy weather…  I kind of like how that has made little things feel like luxuries now.  I feel so spoiled by our washer and dryer, for instance.

I love the abundance of cheese and good bread here.  I miss newly-harvested Thai jasmine rice.

The whole “going green” movement started while I was gone, so that’s new– but I like it.  I’m having to get introduced to pretty much all of the TV shows on.  The news on TV is so full of graphic effects that it’s kind of distracting and feels even more like entertainment than it used to.

I finally caved and bought a pair of those huge sunglasses that somehow became popular while I was gone.  I kind of didn’t believe people were really wearing them until I got here and yep, that’s all they’re selling now.

It’s weird to eat so many things out of cans or bags or boxes rather than bringing home fresh produce and meat from the nearby street market.

My parents got a new dog, my house has a whole new kitchen, the church I grew up in has a new fellowship hall, my hometown gained several thousand residents and several new stores and restaurants.  People I remember as kids are now teenagers or adults.  Coming home felt a little like time travel, or waking up after a really long sleep.

But ahhhhh…. it’s good to be back.  I feel like I can breathe again (literally and figuratively).  There’s space to rest and reflect, I can blend in if I want to, I don’t have to translate or wonder about my grammar, I get to enjoy people and simple pleasures I’ve been away from for so long.  At some point I will start longing for the home I left behind, but for now I’m just enjoying the return to this one.