Re-entry Shock

In pre-departure training they prepare you in many ways for the culture shock you will face upon arrival to your mission field.  They also warn you that when you return home to America you will face “reverse culture shock”.  The last few weeks I have been trying to prepare myself for this reentry shock, and on the days before leaving Zambia I had some conversations with my experienced missionary friends about what to expect and how to handle it.

I think the thing that is most shocking to me, is how shocked I am.  All of my physical, emotional, and mental senses have been bombarded by what feels like a whole new world.

Upon stepping off the plane in JFK I was hit by a wall of HUMIDITY.  After months of dry dry air, my lungs clenched up immediately and huffed and puffed as I walked through the hallways of the airport. My skin felt the dew of sweat forming, and most unusually, remaining all over my body.

The efficiency of the workers of the airport made me smile when I overheard fellow travelers complain about minor hold-ups in quickly moving lines, and the inconvenience of removing their shoes for a few moments on the “disgusting” floor. 

TSA agents greeted us with an informal “howsitgoin” and “Ya’ll need to take yer shoes off”.   No more, “how are you today Madam?”

Past security and into the jetBlue terminal I stand overwhelmed with the café options.  I spot to my right a display of beautiful yellow bananas… they are unbruised, perfect in shape, scientifically grown and maintained to aesthetic perfection.  I pass through shelves and shelves of muffins, cookies, and cereals.  Buffets of hot breakfasts, lunch or dinner options.  Counters of giant coffee containers with all the possible creamer and sugar options the world can offer.  Overwhelmed by the choices thrown at me I choose a banana, find a bottle of water, and get in line to pay. 

The cashier is friendly and she tells me the price of my banana and bottle of water. I pull out American bills from a wallet that hasn’t been used since I left home and hand her a $5 bill.  Her speed in giving me my change surprises me and all of a sudden I have in my hand American coins and bills and things are happening to fast for me to process if I’ve received the right change or not.  I feel confused by this new currency in my hands, and am no longer certain of the value of each bill and coin… I actually calculate how many kwacha my banana and bottle of water are worth.

Dunkin Donuts.  Automated toilets. Powerful hand driers.  Soap on the sink.  Toilet paper in the stalls. I feel inclined to capture these moments of discovery with my camera, yet laugh at myself for finding it exciting and realize that no one else would want to see pictures of these things.

As my plane ascends over New York State my eyes are glued out my window.  For the entire 55 minute flight I cannot stop staring at the world that goes by beneath me.  Green. Hills. Geometrically perfect fields of multiple colors that indicate a healthy season of crop.  Rivers. Ponds. Lakes. Clouds. I find it all fascinating, yet again laugh at myself for being so hypnotized by it all.  

My mind plays tricks on me as I see the tan-colored paths of roads beneath me.  They are dirt roads.  No... they cant be.  They are paved.  Paved with grey cement.  But paved roads should be black.  Not these ones. These tan roads are not dirt roads.  

A finger lake passes below me, and I’m not sure which one it is.  Another comes into sight and I am fairly certain that it is Keuka Lake, though it is too hard to tell.  My heart starts pounding with excitement as another comes into view… and yes.  There is the marina, Kershaw beach, Wegmans, main street… it is Canandaigua.  Tears start pouring down my face as I find my church.  My eyes seek out Canandaigua Academy with its magnificent athletic fields and expanse of buildings.  I trace the road from the school and there is my house.  My home.  Home.  It is all right there below me.  Right where I left it.  All there waiting for me to return.  I am weeping now, thankful that the man next to me is sound asleep.  10 minutes till landing.

One last airport hallway to walk through and a glass wall separates me from my parents.  The wall opens and we rush into each other’s arms, an embrace that has been months in coming.  We hold each other with tears streaming, unaware of the people watching and passing around us. 

Exiting the airport my nose smells strange smells.  Clean.  Grass. Flowers. Fresh air.  I breathe deeply, inhaling a dustless, pollution free air.

In our short ride home we pass new buildings, new construction. It is amazing what can change in just two years.  My eyes are bombarded by the brilliant color GREEN.

Entering my home I am enthusiastically greeted by Rosie, our family dog.  She is clean, healthy, and soft.  And she is INSIDE my home. 

My bedroom is overflowing with STUFF.  I look forward to purging of all the unnecessary things that have accumulated here, and am grateful that I left behind as much as I did in Zambia.  So much that I simply don’t need.

A long hot shower causes me to cry tears of relief.  The temperature of the water remains stable without having to adjust it every 10 seconds.   10 minutes into the shower and the water is still hot and strong.

A bowl of fruit.  Fresh fruit.  Strawberries, cantaloupe, raspberries… my taste buds are overwhelmed.

Phone calls to family in the same time zone.  Trying on a bridesmaid dress.  Visiting with the bride-to-be, my best friend Emily.  It is a whirl of excitement and adrenaline.

In the midst of it all I feel the need to write.  The need to process.  The need to open my Bible and cling to the only unchanged Thing in my life. 

I have been home for less than 24 hours.  It is so GOOD to be back.  It feels familiar and so normal to be here.  It feels like just another summer day at home.  And yet my mind is humming Tonga hymns and my heart is aching for the family I have left behind in my Zambian home, reminding me that it is not normal to be here.  It is once again new, and it is shocking to me just how shocking it is to be here.

Relief. Excitement. Exhaustion. Sadness. Happiness. And peeking out through this pile of emotions is JOY. J