About the only thing more daunting than adjusting to life in a foreign country, is dealing with life coming back.
Known as reverse culture shock, I watched many Japanese students stumble into the tar pit of shock and despair upon their initial efforts to repatriate into society after living a year or two abroad.
They were not alone.
My readjustment to life in the US, after two decades overseas, was itself mildly traumatic. On previous home-visits to Los Angeles, the longest I could bare staying in the country was about 10 days. After that, I started getting “the hebegeebies”.
But this time, I was home for good.
I remember nervously walking into a popular dive-bar downtown, in search of anything that could mimic the warmth and inviting atmosphere of the Far East. Instead, I quickly found myself the only black person in a room full of jovial whites southerners. Being the odd man out in a sea of caucasian faces is part of what drove me from the States in the first place.
Just then, an attractive blonde looked my way.
“Hi there! I’m Heather.” She said, as she stretched out her right hand.
Delving into a pretentious conversation--especially before ordering a stiff drink--was not what I needed, but I saw no purpose in being rude.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Darrell” I replied with an artificial smile.
“I’m visiting from Texas” she said. “Won’t you join me!”
As much as I wanted to, it was hard to refuse her invitation, so I reluctantly took a seat next to her at the bar, doing my best to feign interest in her frivolous banter.
She leaned into me even more when a man carrying burgers, chips, and brew made his way through the crowd. His painted on frown suggested he was less than enthused.
“Oh. Darrell this is Mike, my husband.”
"Hey man." I said.
Little did I know, my reintroduction to the USA , and indeed the Deep South, was about to get that much more REAL.
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