I've been gardening like crazy. Pulling weeds, planting vines. When I went to the nursery, Steve the owner said, "You know it is August don't you" and raised his eyebrows when I told him I just felt like working in the dirt. I realize that it is likely that none of the plants will live, but for some reason I just have to be out working in the yard.
People who do research on cross cultural adjustment have found that reentry (coming home) can be even more difficult than the initial adjustment to a foreign country. This can be true even when the trip is relatively short. The first time I came home from Africa (after being there for a year), I was miserable. I felt disconnected from my friends and family. I felt like everything I was doing in my life was trite and unimportant in light of the tremendous injustice and suffering in the world. I did not know how to reconcile life in the US with life in Ghana. I moved into an apartment with a bunch of my college friends, but I couldn't handle it. Too much smoking and too many hair products. I moved out and went to live with Rob's parents. During the first few months I had trouble doing normal things like going to grocery stores or the shopping mall. Rob and I went to a mall in the Bay Area and I was so overwhelmed the loads and loads of clothes, shoes, accessories, CDs, trinkets, fake plants and scented candles that I practically had a panic attack and ran out in tears. It was a disorienting time.
Thankfully I had not had such strong reactions the last few times I've traveled. But, even so, I still feel surprised at how I feel when I get back. I am glad to be home and excited to see friends and family but there is part of me that is not ready to talk about my experience. People have called and asked me about it and I sort of stammer like I don't really know what to say. Even though I've been thinking about it and writing about it, it is still really hard to put into words.
To be honest, I feel a little sad. Not depressed, not discouraged, just mildly sad. I am not sure the exact source of it. It is not like I am sad to be home or sad about Ghana. I guess it is like how plants feel when they have been freshly transplanted- a little wilty.
Perhaps I should be journaling and processing the details of everything. It would be wonderful if I could get through the sadness and on to the stage where I am able to summarize my experience into a set of bullet points.
For now I am just going to sit in the garden and let the transplants soak for awhile.
