One year

It's been about a year since I have been back in the US now. Although I still don't completely feel American, I have pretty successfully integrated back into society. I have a stable job, some friends, a place to live, and DQ about a mile away. I'd say this makes me feel pretty stable. For now.

I am content with everything God has given me, but I know this is not where I will be spending the rest of my life nor what I will be doing for the rest of my life. This is unsettling to me. I still feel like there are a million places I can be (Indiana being one of the places I least desire to be). I don't know where God wants me. I know I just need pacience.

dichotomy

A comment by a fellow TCK (third culture kid) recently on facebook reminded me of a dichotomy I have felt for some time. I think that many children that have grown up moving around can relate. The dichotomy is as follows: 1. Since my childhood was relatively "unstable" I want to establish roots in one place and live there for the rest of my life. 2. I don't think I can stay in one place for more than a couple years or I will go crazy! I so have my prefences on the topic, but God is ultimately the one who chooses.

In high school and through most of college, I was convinced that all I wanted was one home. One place to come back to. One church, one job, same friends, etc. I longed for stability. This was understandable. I left the home I knew, my school, my church, my friends, and my siblings. After a few years I returned to my "home" country not thinking I would live there again. This did not bother me. The following four years consisted of living in the dorm room during school and any available home with a job in close proximity. I was tired of starting over in each town I went. I was tired of getting accustomed to new house rules and norms. I wanted something that was mine.

For the past several years, I feel claustrophobic if I do not leave the [current] country after being there a year (or maybe less). In Peru, after a year I had to leave the country on some type of trip. The country was closing in on me. After two and a half years of living there, I felt some time in the US with my family would do me some good. Being in the United States has made this worse. I moved back in February and left in May. A few months have passed, and I am ready to leave again. There exist few Latin American countries that I have not visited, so my traveling desires have expanded. Next summer I travel to Europe. I want to see it all as well as parts of Africa.

One desire has not changed over the past several years, however; the desire to not live in the United States. I believe that I could live contently in Lima for a long period of time, if not the rest of my life. I would need to travel sporadically to feed the insatiable desire to travel internationally. I do realize that whatever place or circumstance God puts me in, He will help me and sustain me. I must always remember that my citizenship is in heaven. This world is only my temporary home.

Reverse Culture Shock

When preparing to live overseas, one learns much about culture shock: the loneliness, the frustration, the crying, the irritability, etc. What one does not learn, however, is that you experience the same thing when returning "home" to live. I found this experience to be even more frustrating than my culture shock in Latin America.

I first experienced reverse culture shock upon returning to the US after 10 months of living in Lima after graduating. One clear instance demonstrates my devistation. I was walking around Borders looking around at the CDs and books when I began to cry. Yes, I cried in Borders. I realized that the CDs I looked at were all Latino Bands and the books I looked at were in Spanish. This is not typical for an "American" girl.

What I felt at this time was an identity crisis. I looked the part of an American, but did not feel like one. Many of my ideas, experiences, perspectives and interests clashed with those of most Americans.

After two months in the US, I could not take being there anymore. Being the spoiled last child that I am, I got my parents to fly me back to Lima. A year and a half later, I returned to the US again with a more prolonged period of reverse culture shock.

The identity crisis continued along with other symptoms of reverse culture shock. Most of these new manifestations occurred in the area of socially appropriate behaviors and relationships. For the first several months, I was overly outgoing and bold. I would say things and do things that were not appropriate in either culture I've lived in. I believe my lack of sensorship was due to the fact that I didn't remember how to act. I wanted so hard to fit in and figure things out that I did it wrong in many occasions.

Building relationships with people caused me much heartache. As mentioned in a previous post, I have had difficulty in developing real friendships with people. Trying to enter into someone's already established life is difficult. I also am having a hard time making friends with males where I live. They are very different from what I am used to. I also do not know how males here work in terms of a romantic relationship. Americans are very different from Latinos in this area.

I am sure I could come up with many more examples, but these shall suffice for tonight. Gratefully, reverse culture shock has diminished a great deal, and I am much more comfortable living in the US. God has been good to me and has helped me through these difficult times.

Mundial (World Cup)

The World Cup. To most Americans, this name has little to no meaning. To the rest of the world, this is THE competition. No one other sport is played and loved as much as football, soccer, futbol, etc. I did not come to enjoy this sport until I lived in Latin American where futbol is life. I know few Peruvians who did not dream of being a professional soccer player growing up.

Since there are very few who watch this competition in the US, I have found it difficult to enjoy one of the best parts of futbol watching in Latin America: community. During the last World Cup, I lived in Connecticut. I spent most of my work break in the lounge catching bits and pieces of the games and always kept the play by play on the computer. Needless to say, I was mainly unaccompanied watching the games and mainly conversed with a Spanish man about the happenings.

This World Cup is different. I am in Indiana and work mostly at night. I will probably watch the games during the day at home, alone. I may get to watch with a friend or two over the weekends.

I long to be in South America where the World Cup is watched communally. To be in a room stuffed with people, to eat too much food, and celebrate together would make this experience a thousand times better. I am hoping to find others with international tastes with which to watch this magnificent event.

What am I doing wrong?

A friend of mine erroneously told me that all you need to do to make friends is to be nice and be a good friend. This friend has not had to move as many times as I. I lived in the same area for the first 14 years of my life. Since then, I have lived in two foreign countries, three states, and many houses within those states. Family members, friends, acquaintances, and strangers have given me a place to live for a time. In all of these experiences, I have learned that it is very different to make friends.

Each country has its own difficulty. In Peru, (Christian) girls are hard to get to know. They are generally timid or reserved. Their families protect them, so many times they cannot go out, especially at night. In Buenos Aires, I found the people to be generally cold and uninviting to reticent people as I was at the time.

Even though I lived most of my life in the US, I still find it a difficult place in which to make friends. I could give many examples but will limit myself to the present.

My last few years gave me much confidence and brought out my out-going behavior. I hoped that this "new" me would help me as I started a new life in Indiana. I was quickly able to make a couple friends with similar interests as mine. I would be prefectly happy with the two new friends I have made, but they are often busy. This summer both will spend a significant amount of time out of the country.

Although I have put in much time and effort, I have failed at my attempts to make any other meaningful friendships here. I don't get it. What should one do to make a friend here? I call people, text people, invite them to do things, go out of my way to talk to them. Yes, they are nice and talk to me when I talk to them, but I get little to nothing in return. I feel like I'm loosing the strength to keep trying yet lack of socialization weighs down on me.

My only consolation is that God is with me and is in control. He has brought me through many a worse situation. I pray that he gives me wisdom and provides me with opportunities to get to know people better.

The Nomadic Lifestyle and Friends: How Do They Fit? Part 1

If there were such a thing as a moving complex, I would have it. Common symptoms would include weeks of fatigue after international moves, the suffocating feeling when in the same country for over a year, the inability to completely unpack in your new location, the failure to decorate the new living quarters, and the exciting yet scary and tiresome task of finding a job and meeting new friends. The last of these manifestations will be the prime focus of my discourse.

My first move was to Lima, Peru in 2000. I had attended the same school district for my whole life up until this point; I had many friends and a happy, energetic disposition. The move to a new country with a new culture and language and a new school proved quite unfavorable to my newly forming identity in many ways. One of which would alter my social abilities for the next 6 years; I became shy.

Because of my low comprehension level in Spanish, the unwelcoming behavior of the members at my church, and my newly acquired attribute of reticence, I did not make any meaningful relationships with Peruvians. Fortunately, God gave me a talkative, lively friend, Lisa, at my American school, and many lovely friends from my youth group my last year in high school.

Going to college, where I did not know anyone, proved to be one of the most difficult transitions in my life. Fear of the unknown enveloped me like the tangled mass of blankets surrounding me on a cold, lazy January morning. I did not want to go to college. I did not want to have to meet people.

After a few weeks at school, I found other third culture kids and spent time with them. It was not long, however, until I started dating a crazy, outgoing missionary kid (mk). I felt like I had all I needed and did not have to try anymore to make or maintain friendships. I had him. My dependence on him was detrimental to my social and emotional health and ultimately caused the termination of the relationship.

At the time of the conclusion of the relationship, I inhabited a small town home in the distingue city of Buenos Aires. My social skills here reached its all time low. Because of my emotional state, I had not the ability nor the desire to put forth the effort to make friends. It was too hard; the people too cold.

The dread continued as I had to return to my friendless school in the US. Fortunately, a new roommate (a childhood friend) and supernatural help from God aided in the path of making new friends.

Little by little I gained more confidence and felt more like my true self. During my last semester of college, I had a large group of friends and enjoyed the best social period of my life to this day.

After college I returned to Lima for lack of knowledge as to what I wanted for my life. My confidence grew leaps and bounds as I independently made a life for myself in Lima. Although I became notably sociable, I still desired stronger friendships. I did have my best friend and confidant, Ruben, yet I longed for close female relationships. In Lima, this is not an easy task.

Girls in Lima tend to be more quiet, reserved, and protected by family. They do not go out often with groups of friends especially at night. A lack of common interests made it difficult to converse and have a deep frienship or even a superficial one.

The time came when god directed me back to my "home" country to yet again start a new life...

Walking

I miss walking. No, not walking from the car to the door at Wendy's or from the couch to the refrigerator. I miss walking that leaves me tired, wears down my heels, and lets me view the world from the sidewalk. In the United States, we only walk when absolutely necessary whereas in other countries walking is more important. In South America, people walk all the time. I wish people would walk more in the US.

I first noticed this phenomena in Lima, Peru about 10 years ago. Most people walk, because they don't have cars. They must walk to get to the bus stop, to get a cab, or to get to wherever they're going. Some people walk (or run) outside for exercise.

My favorite place to walk (and to watch people walk) was Buenos Aires. I would walk 20 minutes to school everyday and would walk to get to the bus stop, the subway, the internet cafe, or the ice cream shops....

The best time to walk in Buenos Aires was in the morning. I would walk the flooded streets at about 8am and see a wide variety of people. Some usual walkers included the businessmen (briefcases and all), dog walkers with up to 5 or more dogs (watch out for surprises on the sidewalk), men shouting out their piropos (flirty remarks), and elderly people inching their way down the side walk.

I realize that it is difficult most of the time to walk in the US. Without public transportation, walking is almost impossible. Places are just too far to walk. Our busy schedules and general laziness tend to eliminate any possibility of walking even short distances. Walking could, however, help the grotesque amount of obesity found here and help the overall health of our nation.