As I write this, I'm sitting in place
far different than where I would usually compose my blog posts.
Today, instead of a white powdery beach and a vibrant blue ocean
constituting my field of view, green, lush deciduous forests, soft
grasslands, encompass a gentle lake and fill the scene. It is
beautiful. The weather is nothing short of perfect, and this is no
exaggeration. Crisp clear air wisps over my skin chilling it
slightly. Before I chill too much, the sun warms me up, but never
too much. Cordial and fluffy clouds flow through the sky; all of
them carry themselves without the threat of rain. This is
magnificent.
Returning home has certainly been an
experience; one that I've never experienced before. In that sense,
it's been fun for many reasons. Social norms here are certainly
different than in Fiji and in Thailand. For example, if you were to
walk do the street in Fiji and waved, smiled, nodded, raised your
eyebrows (that's a popular way of saying yes or “what's up”), at
literally anyone, you would receive some form of acknowledgment back.
It's just the way it was. Here, it's not the case. I find myself
saying “hey” to a lot of strangers on the street (especially on
lakeshore path while on a run) and most of the time, I receive no
acknowledgement of any kind. What I receive is usually a cold stare
straight ahead and usually down towards the ground. Some even go as
far as to look at their feet. Some, however, do shoot you back a
smile or nod, but it's certainly rare. That's been hard to get used
to, actually, as I made it a habit while I was abroad to look
passersby in the eye and acknowledge them in some way. It isn't a
problem, but it is something that I never noticed before. To be
honest, I've taken a liking to the mentality of acknowledging, even
celebrating, instead of ignoring those who occupy the space around
me, especially when running or hiking. William Allen White, whom I
wasn't familiar with before I stumbled across one of his quotes, once
said:
“If each man or
woman could understand that every other human life is as full of
sorrows, or joys, of heartaches and of remorse as his own... how much
kinder, how much gentler he would be.”
I'm betting if
someone took this to heart, they would gladly acknowledge others
around them.
UW-Platteville put
together an pamphlet for study abroad returnees and one of the
“symptoms” it described was called the “critical eye.”
Someone returning from abroad might look critically at the home
nation. They may be disturbed by the amount of waste Americans
produce, or quality of fast food, for exampke. It's good to be aware
of though, because I found myself thinking some of these things.
However, just as I may have thought critically about Fijian ways of
life, I got used to it. The same story applies here.
It's funny that,
no matter how hard I try, I will never
be able to explain my experiences with justice. It simply won't
happen. At first, it was a bit bothersome, but now I understand.
It's not the stories that you'll tell others that define a trip.
It's who you spent it with, mostly, but also with what you
experienced and how those experiences changed you. Jared, one of
Kyle's buddies, just got back from China. Today was the first day
that he got the chance to describe to us what China was like for him.
He would be asked a question, and, not
long after he starting answering, we would be distracted by something
else. I really don't think he ever got to fully answer a question of
ours. It wasn't that he was boring, but rather because everyone else
couldn't connect the dots like he could. There was, and forever will
be, a disconnection and there is nothing to be done about it. He was
a good sport about it though, it never seemed to bother him.
