The Return

I lasted five weeks. I tried, I really did. I tried to be American again. To drive to the overstocked grocery store and pay $5 for a round trip on an organized train system. I enjoyed the blessings of fine international restaurant dining and the company of friends who understand my jokes. I used abundantly my cell phone that doesn’t cost a dollar a minute and drank all the clean tap water I could swallow. I eavesdropped on the conversations of strangers at every possibly opportunity, relishing in the fact that I could understand every word being said. I marveled at the ease of shopping, at not having to go to six different parts of town to purchase the components of one outfit. I threw out my eye drops and breathed [moderately] fresh air. I flipped through every last one of our 6 trillion cable channels and heated 12 different brands of diet microwavable gourmet meals. I [normally] showed up on time for meetings and nearly died of a pleasant shock every time everyone else would do the same.

But despite all my efforts, you will note that I write this blog from Lima, Peru. I came back. I am living in an apartment the size and smell of a gas station bathroom and am currently unemployed and relatively aimless. But life is good. Turns out I don’t mind walking a few miles with 50 pounds of groceries cutting off the blood circulation to my hands. And I actually enjoy a bus system that is 30% tact, 70% luck, and only costs 30 cents a trip. Microwavable meals are severely overrated in comparison to having friends come over and teach you how to cook. Also, I have learned that most conversations are not worth being overheard and that the occasional physical trauma of accidentally ingesting too much tap water in the shower does wonders in keeping me humble.

I’m not sure what’s to become of me. I don’t know what it means that I am equally incapable of fitting into the culture of my childhood and the culture of the country that I am beginning to call home. I don’t know how long I’ll stay here and I don’t know what I’ll do next. But if there’s one thing that I’ve learned in the last year it’s that there is a refreshing glory that can be found when the curtain of ambiguity and anxiety is pulled back to reveal the morning sun, and I intend to thrive in it.