Reentry. That word stared me down right from the beginning of Peace Corps. I think most volunteers assume that the transition back to homelife will be easy, but I have experienced it before, and easy it is NOT!
After a mere 5.5 months in Tanzania (study abroad, Associated Colleges of the Midwest) I was knocked completely off balance, and it took months for me to settle in again. It doesn't help that, after such times abroad, everyone you know has inevitably moved on with their lives. That first time, my support network that had got me through the ups and downs of sophomore and junior year had... graduated. Mostly, that is. Those that were still there had made some decisions that were good for them and their mental health, and ended up being not so great for mine. I hold no grudges, for they are not my keepers, but I now recognize that I ended up in a vulnerable position. It's a struggle.
No change. It's a struggle. You depend on friends, and they are away, married, mothers, at school, self-absorbed, sympathetic, distant, but... not there like you are used to. Like the 10 Moroccan mothers I had, the 15 sisters, the handful of real friends. You depend on family, but they expect much of you, and you dare not disappoint. You depend on yourself, but who is that, in this new place where people do not look up to you automatically, where you do not know your next pay check, or next schooling, or path... I don't even know for sure my dream to follow.
I have many dreams.
So I'm taking classes, readjusting, soaking up the good food and the good company (whenever I'm lucky enough to have it!), and the good family (it's AWESOME to be close to them again).
And the language muddles, and I miss the mountains like I missed the lakes and the trees, and I miss the tajine and the couscous, so I try to cook it and miraculously it tastes good! I miss friends from home who were my lifelines abroad, and I miss the travels afterwards.
I'm at a home though. It is a quiet place, and thus is worth quite a bit.
