Strange travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.
- Kurt Vonnegut
I suppose I’ve danced more than a wee bit, and it’s time to take a break, but I’d be eager to dance some more if I have the chance in a year or two! I already miss the constant newness of being a temporary expatriate. Before I stop, one last post. Thanks again for reading!
I’ve been back in the U.S. for almost a week now, and I’m still in shock. Coming back, I knew I would be different, but I had no idea how different my country would seem to me. If I’d gone somewhere where there was overwhelming poverty or widespread war, I would have expected to be shocked by the U.S.—but, on the surface, New Zealand isn’t that different from the U.S. I didn't think I'd have to adjust much upon my return. New Zealand is a democratic, fairly prosperous, Western country. But the people, their attitudes, and even their culture are actually vastly different from ours.
I miss how everything in New Zealand happens slowly, inefficiently, and fairly. I miss walking, biking, and taking the metro. I miss controversial conversations, strange and fascinating randoms, mismatched clothes, tea times, and all my new friends. Of course, I’m happy to be at home again and very glad to catch up with people I care about deeply. But there’s a part of me that wishes I could take everyone I know to New Zealand and stay there forever.
In some ways, I feel a wee bit like Rip van Winkle, coming home to find that everything (ok, not everything, but a lot) has changed since I’ve been gone. Postage has gone up, the original Willy’s (my favorite Mexican restaurant) has been renovated, Shirlee (my family’s hairdresser for the past forty or so years) is moving to a new location, and my cats have grown fatter. It’s the little things, really, that make home seem so different.
After adjusting to the driving rules of New Zealand, I just can’t deal with Atlanta traffic—six lanes of speeding, rude drivers is just too much to handle! I’m used to two-lane roads where slower drivers move to the side to let the faster drivers overtake them. I keep putting on my windshield wipers instead of the indicator (blinker) because they’re on the opposite sides of the steering wheel here. Suburbs and cars seem highly impractical, and just about everything here seems so big. And fast. And chaotic. Basically, I think there are a few too many people here. On the other hand, I do appreciate feeling a part of an important country - as opposed to New Zealanders, who tend to have an inferiority complex about their country's culture, location, and status internationally. It's nice to be in a country that creates its own culture, literature, etcetera, and doesn't have to import just about every food item and product from somewhere else in the world.
I’m going to try to keep Kiwi culture fresh in my mind as I begin my senior year . . . in the hopes that I’ll be able to enjoy it as much as I enjoyed New Zealand. I want to have flat dinners and crazy adventures, deep conversations and real discussions. At the very least, I want to have tea times (biscuits included), take bike rides, eat kiwifruits, adore sheep, go new places, and, of course, keep yelling out windows.
