I do feel overwhelmed. They said I would and I really didn’t believe them.
Everything is a shock to my system and a lot of my observations elicit a jerk reaction labeling what goes on here as wrong or vile or hurtful or expensive. But it really is my old normal, with about 20% inflation.
I am now the one who is different. Unaccustomed. Unprepared. Lost retrieving old memories to fill in the current context. On the outside no one can tell I´m different. I´m wearing my aunt´s old puffy coat around with mud boots and leggings. The boy at my side with his borrowed rain boots and coat with a beanie. We look prepared even though we are freezing. Every experience and conversation brings up something I want to say about Laos and then my aunt is caught explaining that her seemingly normal Bellingham niece just arrived from living in Laos. People think it´s cool that I am moving up from New Mexico and don´t understand this radical life change and reverse culture shock we are experiencing.
It began before leaving the airport. We taught Camilo how to drink from a water fountain and told him no parasites here. We paid $40 to leave the airport parking lot. We had a nice ride across to the US border where Camilo fell asleep and my arm went numb holding his head up because properly installed child seats. There were no near death experiences, no slamming on the breaks. Cars stayed in their lanes and used signals to communicate when they would be switching. We sat at the border for 30 minutes with fifty other cars all left with motors running and heaters on. It was Christmas Eve and the border agent and I bonded over the difficulty of her 13 hour flight to see her family in Puerto Rico and then Spanish just flowed from me with relief.
When we arrived to our two week home, the home of two intense dogs, a gecko, and about ten chickens and turkeys, we experienced further shock. I flicked off my shoes by instinct and the wooden floor attacked me like icicles beneath my feet. I brought Camilo to the bathroom and calmly explained there was no way of avoiding the frozen toilet seat. And when day came the next morning, the sun didn´t come with it.
I miss Laos and all the familiarity that came with it. We miss the open arms ready to envelop my two year old just for being cute. No annoyed stares or fingers to their lips because of his active energy. We miss the warmth of the people and the warmth of the sun.
I miss being culturally inappropriate in a culture that is so forgiving. Here in America, with such a mix of cultures, there is a slack line to walk to remain appropriate. I know the kiss on the cheek is out, but greeting by hug or hand shake? We were once like family, but should I wait to be invited in now? Camilo stares at a Latino couple in Winco and they speak about him in Spanish…is it culturally insensitive for me to respond in their language?
It´s one thing for me to process through all of this, and another for Camilo who has only ever known Laos. He stares at the tall balding white men at church as though they were aliens. He makes noise and hits things he shouldn´t that were normal back home. He demands sticky rice when out for a diner meal. He doesn´t understand why my sentences constantly begin with, ¨Here in America…¨ when I explain a new concept like using a code to open a bathroom door, putting groceries on a moving belt, or scanning a card to take books home. These are all noticeable, but I can´t imagine his anguish on a deeper unexplainable level. His self just constantly asking, ¨Why do people respond this way?¨
This is not the culture he is re-entering into. It is just a stopover and he knows that. He is proud of his papá who is getting a new home for him in Mexico. He has thrice daily complaints of ¨Camilo go home,¨ to, ¨Camilo go home Aunt Candace´s house.¨ Just a few weeks of confusion before the true realization comes: Laos is no longer home.
I am proud of him for holding out so well. I am confused by my own complex feelings about being in my home, but not the home shared with my family. I am experiencing some reverse culture shock. And I miss the Lao people and Lao friends. That´s the reality of where we are right now.
