Home far away home

It is astonishing for Travis and I to think that we have been away from home for 11 months now. Moments of this year have flown by, yet at other times it felt like time stood still. When you are away during different holidays especially (including those American holidays not celebrated abroad), it almost feels as if they haven’t happened yet and things at home are where we left them. Obviously, this is not the case, and we are very intrigued to see how America has moved forward while we were away. As we lived in different cities and countries this year, we noticed that some of the settings and moments we experienced could have been somewhat replicated in a location in the USA. This was especially true in the developed cities where McDonalds and Starbucks were just as present as they are at home. There were other times however, that we couldn’t have felt farther away. It was at those times we wondered, “If anything happens to us, will someone be able to find us?” This of course, we’d attribute to the thrill of the journey.

Times when home felt millions of miles away:

Train station platform, Casablanca: A stretch of desolate desert in front of us, a busy cosmopolitan city behind us, and sounds of the Muslim call to prayer amplified from a nearby mosque. Things didn’t feel anymore familiar when we bordered the dark train to Marrakech in a carriage surrounded by men robed head to toe in Berber dress.

The journey to Los Penitas, Nicaragua: The bumpy taxi ride on the torn-up road to the ocean was just the beginning. The driver had to ask us midway for our fair to pay off a policeman when he was pulled over for not having the right licenses. Then there was the stop for gas, as well as two more stops to ask for directions to find our accommodation. Our lovely seaside cabana turned out to be a diamond in the rough, but don’t ask us if we’d ever be able to find it again.

Walking the perimeter of Quetzaltanango, Guatemala: A lonely, dusty road around a densely populated city in the chilly, windy valley of Xela. Women and children in colorful Mayan dress walked by us on their way to the market, while we had to watch our backs to heed the warnings of the dangers for tourists in certain parts of this country.

A narrow street in Carassai, Italy: With hundreds of tiny, hilltop villages in Italy, it was hard to keep track of them all. Just when you think you’ve found your bearings, one narrow road leads to another, and the church steeple is hidden from sight. If it’s siesta time, there’s no hope for finding an open café to ask for directions.

Crossing the border into small town Slovenia: Evidences of a past regime of communism are not hidden from sight. The familiar scenery of Italy had disappeared within moments and we were transported into a society that felt stuck back in time, about a hundred years ago.

Riding Camels in Austria: Wait a minute, aren’t camels supposed to be in the desert? Apparently not. Trekking through the mud with whips in hand for herding purposes, the thought of a casual walk down a city street of our home in Pasadena couldn’t have felt further away.

What about the culture shock?

Surprisingly, even though we found ourselves at times in remote and offbeat destinations, we rarely suffered from culture shock. Part of this is because we love to research and read all we can about countries before visiting them. However, we do have two incidences that would fit in this category.

1. The first day of our trip (August 30, 2008)- Arriving in our rented flat in the center of Madrid, Spain: Just off the redeye flight with our freshly packed luggage, we were only just beginning our new way of life abroad. No longer owning cell phones, vehicles and being away from all people and things familiar, what would the year hold? I distinctly remember being so tired and wanting to just take a shower and go to bed, only to find our place had no towels. Thus, dirty and sleepy-eyed, we set out to find an open store and made our first purchases using the Euro. Interacting in Spanish with our timid beginner levels and trying to decipher the Spanish labels on items at the grocery store was all so daunting and overwhelming. Yet, at the same time I can still feel the exhilaration and excitement knowing we had months of adventures and new explorations ahead of us. Would we repeat those first weary moments of shock? In a heartbeat.

2. Our second moment of greatest culture shock has actually not yet occurred. With this year coming to a close of living abroad anonymously, unconventionally, sometimes spontaneously and sometimes planned, we’re predicting that the moment we step off our plane at LAX in less than two weeks will be the most shocking of all. What will it be like to be in America again? To be surrounded by English language? The most mind-boggling to us is the thought of being tied down again by possessions, commitments (aka “real jobs”), a place to live, a car to put gas in, bills to pay (other than just one- our storage unit), and a cell phone ringing. Will all these things be necessary again for us to live an American life? We’re not too sure. Let’s leave that for the next few months to find out…