It is finished. Seven years overseas- a life of adventure in Europe- came to an end three days ago as we flew home to America. I suspect I'll be in transition mode for some time, which means I cycle through a range of emotions hourly. This post is a stream of consciousness that attempts to capture the moment.
This is admittedly hyperbole, but right now I feel like Frodo Baggins at the conclusion of the Lord of the Rings. At the end of his quest, he returns to the Shire, where he had spent his entire life before embarking on his epic journey. The Shire hasn't changed (in the movie version, anyway)- but he has, and he finds it difficult to fit in back home as a result. That's me right now- minus the whole ring of evil stuff. I've spent seven years on an adventure, and returning to the familiar seems anything but.
I'm trying to quantify why it seems so hard to return. Perhaps it's this: my boundaries and awareness have both changed considerably since 2007.
Boundaries
By boundaries, I mean an undertaking or adventure that we're likely to do, yet think of as significant. I think the sheer size and geographic isolation of the United States tends to give Americans 'small' boundaries. Not physically small, necessarily- but culturally small. Many Americans stay put because it takes so long to get anywhere significantly different. We bound ourselves by county, state, or region- it's cost-effective, familiar and accessible. That was me, anyway, for the first 27 years of my life. As a child, adventure was going to another county in Pennslyvania, or to an adjacent state. During and after college, adventure increased to going up and down the eastern seaboard. But it was still the eastern USA, still familiar, and still easy to get back home if the going got tough. Then came Germany.
When we moved to Germany in 2007, by necessity my boundaries increased by several orders of magnitude. There was little familiar- I had to engage in and find my way through a vastly different culture (not to mention language). Not just culture, but cultures- Europe is small and accessible, and from where we lived, in the time it took to drive from New York to Virginia, you could drive to 8 or more different countries in Europe. We once stopped in Belgium for dinner on the way from France to Germany (think about that statement- it sounds impressive, but really isn't, due to size). All I once thought big- driving from PA to Maine, for example- now seemed small indeed. The culture shock I experienced when visiting family in South Carolina seemed laughable compared to trying to understand the Italians. In short, life overseas made my world a whole lot bigger- it expanded my boundaries- and subsequently changed the way I perceived life back home.
Awareness
By awareness, I mean cultural, historical, and travel-related knowledge of things outside the United States. Again, most Ameicans (myself included) are very focused on America. If we know any history, it's ours. Foreign things are unfamiliar and can be viewed as inferior. We are Americans, dang it. We use more energy, have more space, eat more garbage, and drive huge cars because we can. Those Europeans are crazy! Small cars, expensive prices, national healthcare . . . it must be horrible living over there. Then came Germany.
When we moved to Germany, again by necessity my awareness of things not American increased dramatically. The Germans lived life differently- and different was okay. Yes, some things really bothered me. Dryers taking forever, expensive fuel, unusual homes/cars/medicines/cultural idiosyncracies . . . it wasn't all roses. But some things blew me away by how wonderful they were. Beautiful nature, fantastic history, magnificent structures, unlimited speeds on the autobahn, the German fests and their amazing cuisine . . . some of the differences were awesome. The overall lesson from seven years in Europe is this: the world is different than America, and different is okay. Different is okay. Sometimes, different is better. Simple lesson, but incentives given to Americans to encourage them to live overseas belies our underlying cultural belief that different is not okay. Life overseas helped me realize that belief just isn't true- and subsequently changed how I feel being back home.
The Overall Effect
Now, I'm an ex-expatriate. And, due to the increased boundaries and awareness mentioned above, I'm finding the transition back to America harder than expected. Those who have done so already told me this would be the case- and now I see why. America hasn't changed- but I have. I love my country- but I love things about other countries, too. I think America does some things better than any other country- but there are other things that the Germans, British, French, Dutch, etc. do better than us. My first days home have seen frequent emotional oscillations between delight and sadness. Delight at being back with family, friends, and culture long gone. Sadness as the realization that some preferences developed from overseas living are now beyond easy reach. I won't get to visit a castle or abbey on a whim next weekend. I can't pop downtown to pick up a schnitzel or sticky toffee pudding. Those things- and many others- are now a thing of the past. Relegated to cherished memories, I now must turn my focus to a new adventure- fitting in where I haven't lived for seven years with a new mindset. It will be hard, because it will be different. But different is okay. I know that now; may I remember it always.
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