Home Sick

I was born July 25, 1983. My passport was first stamped May 11, 1984. Of course, this first big trip was with my family, but it wasn't long before I was taking trips without them. In middle school and high school I loved school trips and summer camps. Although I lived on my college campus just 40 minutes from home, by the time I started my sophomore year at college, I'd spent more time on internships in Florida and Suzhou than in class / in Michigan. In each case, I constantly met people crushed by homesickness - yes even at college I consoled Michiganders. It always seemed so strange to me. I couldn't imagine ever feeling like that.

Then sophomore year I joined AIESEC, whereby I traveled to 26 more countries, and become a temporary resident of Canada, the Netherlands, and now Jordan. Things changed a bit in AIESEC, with regards to seeing people being homesick. Folks in AIESEC pride themselves on strength and determination in the face of challenge or differences. Not letting any difference shake our values of tolerance and understanding. While to my hometown friends, living in Jordan is absolutely inconceivable, to my AIESEC network, its just another match.

Well, its happened. I'm homesick. I am not superhuman. Damnit.

There are numerous factors that can set the stage for homesickness, how intensely homesick you are, and how long and often you feel homesick. In my case its partially because I've never felt home was so inaccessible, based on available resources like time, money, and distance (I'm not that much further than, say, the Netherlands, but transit time with stopovers is a whole lot hairier / requires even more time off work). Its partially because I'm here for a 12 month contract and at 6 months, the pending decisions I'll be making lead to questioning how long I want or can handle to be away from home, and if it would ever be possible for me not live in the US permanently again. And finally, its partially because, if I look back, I chose to feel this. I remember ending my AI year, having been in 20 countries within 12 months, and thinking: my brain has been stretched but something is missing - I was always on the go, which was hard, but also meant when something was uncomfortable, I knew it was only a matter of time when it would no longer affect me. Jordan, amongst the many reasons for coming, was part of learning I wanted, of being in an environment I might not be comfortable, and couldn't just say - sod it, next!

So I decided to reflect upon my feelings, and also share them. It’s refreshing and uplifting, not depressing, for me to do so, so I can be conscious of, appreciative of, and learn from what I am experiencing. I feel at peace recognizing that this isn’t easy. Sometimes, because amongst peers moving to Jordan is so normal, and because we expats try so hard to be strong, that we fool not only the people around us, but ourselves, into thinking this is a cake walk, and become self critical and surprised when low and behold, it sometimes isn’t. And I almost feel like its not fair to only share to only tell people about all the amazing things I’m learning about the society, politics, culture, and business, the new people I’m meeting, and post pictures of the crazy cool places I’ve have the privilege to see.

So here’s a quick snapshot of the tough side and my experience of homesickness:

It isn't easy being an American, to move to a developing, Muslim, Arab, Arabic-speaking country. It isn't easy never knowing what the rules are, and if you thought you learned them, they change. It isn't easy adjusting to big cultural differences - like people telling you something that is not true because they are trying to help, but you feel you’ve been lied to and have subsequently wasted exorbitant amounts of time and energy using false information. It isn't easy not being able to speak the native language, and therefore always need to ask others for help, feel like a burden, and need to wait for others to make time or care >sometimes, naturally, they don’t<. Its not just about the wait, but the helplessness of not being able to do simple things like set up your internet. It isn't easy wanting to just settle in, but have people gawk and stare at you every single day. It isn't easy never allowing yourself to be excited about anything anymore, because things are inevitable to change, so disappointment is veiled by the misuse of “inshallah”.

And its just as much about the cultural challenges, as the inner conflict at every moment of frustration or intolerance. Being American, you feel you have this chip on your shoulder to be particularly culturally sensitive, so people won’t assume you’re ignorant, as they almost always initially do. And as it is about missing home. Just hanging out family and friends who know you and love you and don't judge you nearly as pettily and quickly as new people inevitably do, just based on less encounters to create a perception from. Or the moment you crave picking up something from a store that isn't here.

And here again is another disclaimer, in closing, in fear of seeming utterly intolerant and negative: this isn’t a tirade against living abroad, or in Jordan. Although, we are all inevitably ignorant and to some extent initially intolerant of what we have never seen, which Sarah eloquently reflects upon. This says nothing of all my learnings and smiles here. Like I said, its just empowering for me to be conscious (in a balanced way) of what I'm experiencing. >self pat on back for taking this challenge and for being homesick for the first time<