Monday, May 20, 2013

One Day More


Today is our last day in this country, and although I KNOW it's our last day I haven't really FELT it. I would have thought it would be a more emotional experience. I'm going to college, I'm an adult now, I'm going to have to get used to crazy Americans and figure out what being a TCK really means. I'm leaving good food, good friends, unique experiences, hard-core reality.
Kind of reminds me of Brave New World, really. I'm like the Savage, and I have no idea what I'm about to get into. But I'll figure it out.
I must remember the truth of the mater, that things won't be as different as I feel like they will be. My whole identity isn't changing, just my position. America isn't Mars; people aren't aliens, and I'm not an alien either.
I think tomorrow, when I land in England and see my grandparents for the first time in months and their son for the first time in years, when I give Myth a big hug and spend the night at her house, the reality will finally have sunk in. No more Urdu, no more fleeting, 'deko, Ungrez!" no more cool clothes and amazing Rickshaws and shocking surprises on the road. I'm going to where cows graze in fields of beautiful grass, not where they graze in garbage heaps. I'm going to where there's more pigeons than falcons, where people wear mini-skirts instead of burkas, where I'm no longer considered an unmarried adult but a wayward, rebellious college student.
And then there's the positive elements, like hair down, no head covering, long walks by myself without a care in the world (Seriously, I can't WAIT to be alone outside for once!). I'll be able to be loud and spontaneous and crazy and no one will think I'm insane (well, at least MOST people won't). No one will stare because I'm fifty shades lighter than anyone nearby. But then I'll get stared at because I'll forget that bus no longer means "cut it out" but actually means a large lumbering vehicle of mass transport. I'll forget that eye-contact with men is no longer totally taboo, but actually what is expected of me. I'll forget that people care about completely different things than the people I've been around for the last three years. I'll forget that people will expect me to be an American, even though I no longer think of myself as one. I'm an Ungrez, a foreign English-speaker, no matter where I live.
I'm tired just thinking about it.

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