Now what?

Coming home to Indiana after a semester in Cairo felt surreal.

I got questioned in Germany about why I was in Egypt, along with four veiled women. Once in America, I held up a line as the security guard went through my passport and called another guard over to double-check it. My third flight was delayed due to snow — something I’d forgotten about.

When I walked out of the final terminal in Indiana, I saw my parents standing there, waiting for me, and I ran to hug them. The relief of being home was overwhelming.
After being home for two weeks, all I can think is, “now what?”

With study-abroad programs, you are warned about reverse culture shock. Your perspectives have changed, as have you, and that’s going to cause some conflict when you return back home.

Some of this is true. The first time I went back to Kroger, it was like sensory overload. The first time I went to a Starbucks and spoke English, it felt uncomfortable.

American traffic will always be funny to me now. The way drivers allow others to go first, or stop at stop signs. The fact that we have stop signs. I smile when I see pedestrians trying to cross the street, so tentative compared to how we hurled ourselves across highways in Cairo.

It’s strange to hear English all the time and to understand all conversations. It’s strange to eat clean food and breathe clean air and not have to worry about drinking tap water.

But even with all of that, returning home was relatively easy to adjust to. For me, reverse culture shock hasn’t been the problem.

The problem is the stagnation you feel when you drop back into a life that hasn’t progressed at all from when you left.

All of my friends’ lives have moved on for months. They’re in new relationships or new jobs. They have internships this semester and some have even changed majors.
Of course, my life has also progressed, but it did so in a country few have been to and with people they’ve never met.

I have changed, but nothing in my life here — my real life — has changed to show that.

It feels like I’ve fallen behind, or like I need to hurry to catch up. This isn’t true, but that’s what it feels like.

It’s hard to explain to people back home everything that happened while you were there. It’s not so simple as a series of events. How are you supposed to explain a total mental shift? How are you supposed to explain what it feels like to see some of the things you saw, or be a part of such incredible events?

You can’t. At some point, you realize that and you stop trying to explain. But then you also realize that doesn’t make the experiences any less important. They’re just things everyone has to experience for oneself.

Going to Egypt was one of my best decisions. It was also one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’ve changed. Everyone who was there with me changed over the course of those four months.

I have never felt so capable or self-secure. On bad days here, I just think about some of the things that happened last semester, and it puts it in perspective. A bad day doesn’t carry the same meaning now.

This semester, I’ll be back in school on campus. I’ll adjust back to my life at IU, where things like riots or protests don’t constantly interrupt school and work.

It’s going to be hard. Two weeks back, and I already know this semester is going to be a challenge. It’s going to be difficult to reconcile the me that came back from Egypt with the life I left behind.

After a spending a semester living in Egypt, I know I can handle the semester ahead.