In the Bardo

August 1^st, 2019

5:29 P.M. Hastings, NE United States

It’s been a strange last few days. I’ve traveled back to the United States before I leave again in 4 weeks to Montevideo, Uruguay, and I feel isolated, physically and mentally.

Let me explain.

For the last 3 weeks, I’ve spent literally every moment with 50 incredible individuals from all over the world. After learning about their lives and why they chose the same path as me, I’m in awe. I’m so impressed by all of them that I question as to why I was chosen to be a part of this group. Every single person has something remarkable about them. How do you get that many incredible people in one room together? We became a family unit. We ate every meal together, we sat in long sessions together, and we traveled out to the provinces of Cambodia together. We were never without one another. And we all had a roommate as well, so believe me when I say, we were NEVER by ourselves.  

As an extrovert, I loved this. As a learner, I loved this. And when I woke up in my bed in Nebraska a few days ago, I felt uneasy. I walked out and it was so quiet. I walked around my house wanting to see people, but there was no one home. Even my dog was at the groomer getting a haircut. I was literally alone. The next day I went out to run errands and I kept imagining that I was seeing some of the people I spent so much time with in Cambodia. I’d see their faces, do a double-take, then realize it wasn’t them. They were in a different time zone, either sleeping or carrying on with their own lives.

I didn’t think I was away long enough to experience reverse culture shock, but apparently being surrounded by such a close community (even for a short amount of time) is enough to bring it in full force.  

(If you don’t know what reverse culture shock is or have never experienced it, see this link: https://www.marquette.edu/abroad/reentry-reverse-culture-shock.shtml )

I feel like I’ve been living in this middle space. I’m not fully in the United States, but I’m not completely in Cambodia either; it’s a bardo of sorts. My body is here, but my mind is there. I can feel something new beginning, but right now I’m just sad. I’m still calling, texting, and using every form of social media to talk with the many people that became my family, knowing that in a few short weeks our communication will stop and I won’t see most of them ever again. We can’t help it. It’s just reality. But it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Every single person I talk to says the same thing.

“I miss you.”

“Are you doing okay?”

“Do you miss everyone as much as I do?”

“I feel like I’m in this space of in between."

"I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Love and miss you!”

Part of me feels guilty for feeling this way. Am I allowed to feel this? It was only 3 weeks. How is it going to be after I live in Uruguay for 2 whole years? (I don’t even want to think about that!)

Then I hear my friend Elma’s voice in my head: “We had a great time together and so many good conversations. We’re not robots. It’s okay to feel.” (I foresee there being several more words of wisdom coming from Elma in future blog posts.)

Will we get over it with time? Yes. But it doesn’t mean that it’s still not difficult. But I think sometimes we as humans figure that if we move on as soon as possible then it will be easier to keep that happy memory with us without being sad about it. I want to advise anyone reading this to stop doing that. Listen to Elma. It’s okay to feel. It’s okay to be sad that something good is over. I want you to take what you feel and use it to create new spaces of goodness.

Grab ahold of the good you find. Keep it. Use it to recognize that goodness in other places. It’s easy to think we won’t find it again. But it does pop up. I promise. Time helps if we’re willing to work with it.

Right now, I’m still sad. But I’m letting myself be sad. I’ve been here before, and I’ll be here again. Because although I may struggle to have breakfast without 17 other people surrounding me, or I’m missing the fact that I don’t get to hear 13 different languages being spoken every day, I know that the people that helped me feel this sadness are helping others feel joy. At this very moment they are sharing their gifts and what they’ve learned with so many others, and that gives me enough happiness to be okay.