We've been home a week
now and it feels odd. Its an extremely odd feeling/ mixture of
emotions.
The first few days were
great, actually a lot less depressing than I had expected. I found
myself taking mental notes of all the novel little things, things I'd
never noticed before but was suddenly acutely aware of and
experiencing through a fresh pair of eyes. First and foremost, I
found the concept of flushing toilet paper down the toilet and not
putting it in a bin, ridiculous. For about 3 days after we returned,
I had to constantly fight the urge to bin the paper and kept worrying
I would block the drain/ kept imagining where the toilet roll must be
ending up.
Another thing I noticed
more was flies. I found myself more interested in them, more aware,
more wanting to avoid them/ squat them. I had never had this
relationship with flies prior to our trip.
Other little things
that took some getting used to included not using foreign phrases to
say please and thank you, and not having to accept/ give things with
my left hand (as is done in Asia). I seemed to be more aware of
strange noises such as lawnmowers and helicopters in the sky and I
liked being able to drink tap water again, although I was hesitant
and cautious at first (ironically, having gone 10 months around the
world and travelled through some of the world's poorest countries
without ever having to go a day without a shower, the day I got home,
the water in our neighbourhood was off and I had to skip my shower
and brush my teeth with bottled water!). One final thing that I found
novel for a few days, was being be able to sit with the soles of my
feet pointing upward and it not be considered rude/ an insult.
But now its been a
week, and all of these novelties have more or less worn off, and what
I'm left with is a sort of fear and realisation that its back to the
real world. Its only just hit me tonight, as I attempted to pack a
holdall for a weekend away and struggled (!) doing so, what an
achievement the past 10 months have been. I think I have been
blocking it out for the past week, not looking at any pictures or
allowing myself to contemplate what has been and is no more. It's
only just hit me that its over. We planned it for two years, it came,
and now its over. We're not just having a rest at home and then
getting out our shells (rucksacks) again to re-pack them. Nobody will
ask us how long we've been away for and we will no longer proudly reply '10 months'. We wont do laundry, struggle with zipping up our
bags, fumble with currency or check tripadvisor. I wont steal tooth
brushes, spray mossie guard, take malaria tablets or wee in a squat.
Its officially over and now the question is: what next?
