I'm home. America home. Far, far away from the ham and the siestas and the all-day espanol. I'm in my house in Scarsdale. With my parents and my siblings and my dog. I'm eating Trader Joe's and homemade cookies and my phone has a QWERTY keyboard.
I don't think this reverse culture shock will hit me. Not at all saying I am an exception to the rule, or I'm a cold-hearted being with no relational changes based on the last our months - just that I don't feel like any time has passed. I'm just home, after a semester, or a vacation. Everything looks the same, everything is the same. I am pretty much the same.
When I woke up this morning, earlier than ever (but 2 PM Spain time), I just felt well-rested, as though I've been in a hypnotic dream state since September and someone just gently shook me awake. Get up, you're back, it's real, and you've got places to go and people to see.
My sister made a sign for the garage door, just like every other vacation. This one read "Bienvenidos a casa, Estefania!" The 30+ likes on my facebook status were a sweet virtual welcome home. Then I got a surprise visit from two excellent friends, who stayed with me until my eyes were shutting. At 9PM. As I mentioned, I'm having time difference problems.
Other than the schedule, nothing else seems to be too tough. Warm showers that don't shut off, my own big room with a lot more clothing, a kitchen with multiple types of cereal. I don't even really like cereal, but it's just fun to read boxes with English on them.
Yes, I miss my senora and the smell of her kitchen. I miss loud Spanish TV gameshows I will never understand. I miss the smell of smoke from my host dad's daily cigarette wafting up to my window. I miss the slippers they gave me to wear around the house.
So, while my feet are cold, I'm not getting cold feet about being home. I'm happy to be back. I have a lot of thought processing to do. But, you can ask me about that when I see you soon.
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