When it Hurts to Come Home!

It’s extremely difficult for settlers to understanding Reverse Culture Shock. However, I will try to explain.

The shock we receive upon returning home from places like Africa, is more complex and difficult than the culture shock we first experienced moving to Africa. Yep, it’s harder to come home than go. It has taken me six years to crawl out from under my reverse culture shock.

The more deeply we bond and identify with the people of another culture, the more difficult it is for us when we get home. Why is that? Well our culture, our view of the world, has been inextricably and forever altered. We no longer think or view the world like the “folks at home”.

As a result we often feel like an alien in our own home town. I have never experienced a greater sensation of “alienness” than when I returned to Prince Edward Island. We have become what is referred to as bi-cultural, meaning comfortable and at ease in more than one culture. In fact, liking some things about other cultures better than our own.

I have been returning to Africa each winter for the last 3 years to work with my old villages and friends. When I arrive in Ivory Coast, within 3 or 4 short hours, a tremendous sense of peace settles, and it feels like I have never left. There isn't any disorientation or need to slowly get my feet under me. However, when I return to Canada, that is quite a different story.

After returning from 6.5 weeks of village work, Lynn referred to me as a basket case.
I could not follow complete sentences well, because my mind was on information overload trying to process a wealth of African experiences & conversations & trying to make them fit with the excessive life we live here.

Lynn has since made the policy that I’m not permitted to be around people for at least 2 weeks after my return. We have found it takes one month before I can even begin to process what happened while overseas. People anxiously ask questions, but I find it almost impossible to say much as my mind is overloaded with images, impressions, feelings and thoughts that are to hard to explain. I feel my words are inadequate to vividly explain what “really” happened, my words seem like a watered down version of “real life” and it frustrates me terribly to write or speak about it early on.

One year I was in the village with Prosper (See phote). As we ate, talked, and slept together in the village, over 4 weeks I lost 20 lbs, as we just did not eat much. Times were hard economically for the village people in Ivory Coast because of the coup and the rebel situation. Anyway, I did not see much volume, nor variety of food that whole month.

My second evening back home, my Lynn had to rescue me. I guess Lynn heard me saying, “Wow!” over and over again in the kitchen. She was concerned at the sound of my voice and she could hear me pacing around so she came out to see if I was Ok. Lynn peaked around the corner and watched.

Apparently, I had been looking for a snack to eat. I opened the fridge and was so thoroughly overwhelmed by the shear volume of food in there, that I was stunned and saying; “wow!” I shut the fridge door and went to the cupboard and the same overwhelming experience happened again, then off to the pantry- same thing. I was on my 3rd round of three destinations, overwhelmed, and I did not even realize I was doing it . Lynn realized what was happening and she grabbed me by the hand saying; “Come with me”, and she led me like a little child to the bedroom and tucked me in bed like a kid. I closed my eyes.