“It’s like that, you know.” Justine pondered, lying on my
favorite couch as I threw the last of my things into suitcases. It was on that
couch where I sat for hours and days as the military cleared the protests. It
was on that couch where I often fell asleep on a seemingly quiet evening during
curfew and awoke to gunshots from the bridge.
“It’s like what?” I asked, immersed in the sorting of
knick-knacks from my dining room. What to pack, what to leave?
“It’s like nothing has changed. When you go home, and you
feel like things should be different. But everything is the same.”
I had just played Bastille’s “Pompeii”, my soundtrack-song
for leaving Cairo.
“But if you close your eyes,
Does it almost feel like
Nothing changed at all?
And if you close your eyes,
Does it almost feel like
You've been here before?”
Matt and Steph were sitting on opposite couches, their
agreement communicated in silence. They had all three been home in the last
year, but this was my first trip. I hadn’t been to America since flying away to
my first international teaching assignment two years prior.
I said my last goodbyes, then, to the three people who
helped shape my time in Cairo. I thought I didn’t have any more tears, but of
course that wasn’t true. I sat alone in my empty apartment and thought about
what Justine said. Would it really be the same as I remembered? I had been so
worried that I would go home and feel lost, feel like everything and everyone
had moved on without me. I was sure I wouldn’t fit-in, imagining a dramatic
Coming-to-America-esque vibe full of new fangled technology and shocking
progress. I was also concerned that I was too different, full of social faux
pas and unusual habits I had picked-up abroad.
I ended up with quite the transition time. Originally, my
plan was to leave Egypt Wednesday morning and be at my parents’ by Wednesday
night. The time change would make the change quick and jarring. But an
unexpected 24-hour layover in O’Hare quite possibly pushed me through the
initial stage of culture shock, instead. I got used to being able to understand
the conversations around me, the clean, crisp, smoke-free air, and the way
Americans travel with intense purpose, even when they are just walking to the
bathroom.
I arrived home and after tearful hellos and a good shower,
settled onto a stool in my mother’s kitchen. I watched her cook, hearing again
the noises of my childhood: kitchen sounds of scraping, clanging and mixing.
And it felt just like Justine said it would, like nothing changed at all.
The memories came flooding back to me. Instead of two years,
I felt as if I had only been gone a week. Egypt was bottled into the back of my
memory bank, and things like driving, watching TV with my brother, and shopping
with my mom were easy, innate activities.
Two years of memories cannot, however, be bottled-up without
eventually overflowing. I noticed little spurts of Egypt creeping into my
comfortable Kansas life. I had to stop myself from speaking Arabic to the servers
in restaurants, I missed the fresh produce and busy streets, and the calm,
quiet demeanor of people in public was a little disconcerting.
I noticed changes in myself, as well. I walked with
confidence and energy, no longer feeling as much insecurity about my weight or
appearance. I felt strongly connected to my family, with a yearning to help
them and care for them in a way I couldn’t for two years. And I felt perfectly
fine sitting alone, no longer sad or lonely, without the need to be around
people all the time.
A week after arriving home, my mother had major heart
surgery, and I put aside any element of culture shock to apply myself fully in
that experience. But the passion and love-for-life I gained in Egypt is what
allowed me to fully invest in my mother and family at that time. I was a better
daughter, sister, housekeeper and friend than I would have been two years ago.
The combination of Egypt and my home in Kansas make me so
ready to continue my adventure in Indonesia. I am grateful for the things that
haven’t changed, and the things that have. I am both excited for my journey and
excited to spend the remaining week here with my family. I am proud to be from
Kansas and have lived in Egypt. I know, as I delve further into international
teaching, the positive changes will only continue.
Well said Megan! I went through many of these same emotions with my friends and family in BC. Now I get to experience them all over again when I visit PEI!
ReplyDeleteLove this entry...especialy: "But the passion and love-for-life I gained in Egypt is what allowed me to fully invest..." Wondeful!!
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