Peace And Smiles
My adventures as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Thailand:The Land of Smiles
10/7/2019 1 Comment 6 Months LaterIt’s officially been six months since I’ve moved back to America. Six months of having easy access to peanut butter and understanding every conversation around me. Six months of reveling in the luxury of washing machines, tap water, and warm showers. Six months of searching for food that is spicy enough, cursing when the weather drops below 70 degrees, and missing the life I had in Thailand.
I wanted to believe that the transition home would be easy. Despite all of the conversations about reverse culture shock and the warnings that we might feel different in a place we were once the most comfortable, I had convinced myself that I would be fine. I had left home for long periods before, and coming home was always weird, but nothing I couldn’t handle. But these past 6 months have been more challenging than I ever could have imagined. Everything is shadowed with a feeling of nostalgia that surfaces at the most unexpected moments. I baked bread and realized waiting for dough to rise is far more fun when there’s a yai inspecting my work and a gang of neighborhood kids to play cops and robbers with to pass the time . I bought a brand new road bike and went on bike rides nearly every day, but constantly found myself wishing for my beat up hybrid bike with the broken pedal, because riding that meant I had my squad of tiny friends following me. I call my tiny neighbor squad, who tell me about the games they’ve been playing and the bike rides they’ve been on and I inevitably wind up in tears, thinking maybe I shouldn’t have left Khong Chai- it’s filled with so many people I love. I met the team I would spend the summer biking across America with, yet even as we grew closer, I felt lost existing in a group that was not the one I had spent the past 2 years growing alongside. At the end of our trip,I said goodbye to my team, yet could not help but remember a much more permanent goodbye that had left me crying for weeks. The cereal aisle overwhelms me. Repeating my stories exhausts me. The slow, suburban life that I once missed no longer feels comfortable, but I’ve found solace in the fact that I’m not alone in this. During my cross-country ride, I reunited with 3 different returned Peace Corps volunteers, all of whom had experiences similar to mine It validated my feelings of not fully fitting back in where I once did. I’ve had over 2 years to learn and re-learn who I am and grow into that person- so why would 25 year old me fit into the space 22 year old me left behind? I don’t, and that’s okay. 25 year old me fits into other places, and though it hasn’t been easy, I’m slowly starting to search them out. If nothing else, I have a pack of tiny neighbors on the other side of the world reminding me that Khong Chai will always be there as the home I will someday return to.
1 Comment
Mary Indacochea
11/11/2019 08:12:08 am
Oh Kayla! I loved this! ..... I totally understand your feelings..... I hope you go back.
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