Not sure how to start this post... It's been so long since I last updated this blog and now I'm debating whether I should try to cram everything into one go or just go off on my typical tirade about what pisses me off in American culture. Hmmmm... This is a toughy ;)
Yes, I have returned to the States. Going on about two months. New Zealand still takes precedent in my dreams and sometimes when I am driving in the car, I realize I'm not on Highway 1 nor am I on my way to see friends in Wellington. The people I met there are number one on my list of things I miss, then the lands, and finally the adventure those open roads offered. This lack of adventure has left me with lots of time to let my mind wander and it only wanders to NZ. I know, depressing. This almost sounds like a bad break-up and I am the one who had their heart broken. Not going to lie: that's what it feels like sometimes. The first month was a hard one. I had highs and lows, but mostly lows. Getting back on the farm has helped bring me peace and re-connect with the lands I was raised on. Slowly, but surely I am climbing out of that hole.
As for the documentary... I'm feeling a bit lost. Days go by where I have to keep my recorder and note pad next to the bed because the creative ideas have overcome my overly vivid imagination. (Note: I get my best ideas at night). Other days, I stare at the computer screen and / or watch footage to get some type of inspiration. It's a tricky situation, but it will come.
Now for the reverse culture shock, oy vey. I think this has been my biggest struggle. I am NOT the girl I was. Simple as. Upon getting off the plane in LAX everywhere my eyes went, there was someone trying to sell me something (in two languages). Then to top off my first American day: after months of only eating out of people's backyards my parents invited me Denny's. Really? When the waitress walked up I asked for wine. This wasn't a menu option. After briefly considering kissing loved ones goodbye and running off into the night to the nearest international airport, I ordered fruit and granola. Being on a plane for 30 hours meant I was far too cranky to appreciate how desperately they wanted to see me. My parents are not fans of Denny's and it showed they were also out of place when I arrived and saw them both in suits and my mother wearing pearls.
Next was the arrival home (my actual house) to realize exactly how many things, useless things, I own. This made me ill and freak out (Hunter S. Thompson style). I'm in the process of clearing it ALL out. So far I have only gone through my clothes. Shoes may take awhile...
Within the first week, my boyfriend decided to treat me to my favorites which I had been deprived of for five months. More specifically, authentic Mexican food. So off we went (my first dinner date in ages). While in the car, I realized just how lavish my lifestyle was before I left. I turned to Rob and said, "We literally have the world at our fingertips here. We can have Mexican on Monday, Chinese Tuesday..." and on it went. This realization was too much to grasp. My nerves were shot and my appetite died quickly as well. The loss of appetite was really no big deal since for the first month I was home, like clockwork, I'd wake up at 3;30 a.m., wonder where I was, and realize my growling stomach was what woke me out of a REM cycle. It was dinner time in New Zealand at that ungodly hour, so don't worry Mom and Dad I have been eating fine.
Television also freaks me out, especially reality tv. Entertainment has consisted of music, movies, cooking, and staying outside.
One major change that I adapted to quickly was using MY shower. I could stay in for as long as wanted and not feel bad for using all the water, truly brilliant. Even with this luxury my training of quick showers remains. Guess it's just nice to have the option ;) Actually due to the abundance of hot water my skin (which went on the wayside while staying dirty and living in cars) is as clear as before I left. Thank the gods! I'm far too old for acne and have a tendency to be absolutely vain. Actually the first thing my mother said upon seeing me was, "Your complexion took a beating." Thanks mom.
Overall, my major obstacle has been realizing that these completely different worlds both exist. You see, during the first month at home, I felt like I'd re-visited a past life and was clawing at the walls to return to NZ. That changed to me questioning whether NZ was just a dream: that I had never truly experienced those wondrous lands with my own two eyes. I was torn between two worlds, living in my own, and dreaming of future travels. A LOT going on in this brain of mine. In reality, I do still get the urge to run, but home is where I'm supposed to be right now and I've embraced it. There are so many lessons traveling has to offer and there are plans to do much more, but for now home and with family is where I belong. This spring may hold other views...
Only in America :)