Croissants and Culture shock

I came home for a weeklong work visit.  I came home to check in with my management team (yes, it takes a whole team).  I came home to attend a conference.  I came home to get some respite from Juba.  I came home to surprise my family.  I came home because we always get a break at 3 months.  I came home because I could.  I missed 2 epic parties, saying goodbye to one of my best Juba friends, and a chance to visit my friend's home village.  I spent 40 hours in transit from Juba to DC.  I ate thousands and thousands of calories (mostly in hamburgers), saw over 40 friends, spent over $2000, and cried more tears than I thought possible.

Why this emotional upheaval?  Well, let's go through the checklist:  Jet lag is a bitch, but this time it didn't hurt quite as much as I expected it to.  All my bags made it safely, and none of my gifts were broken.  On the flights, I wasn't seated next to anyone smelly, sick, or loud (this includes babies).  There was one fatty who was also drunk, but I'll take what I can get.  My parents were happy to see me, saw my best friends in the whole world, got to hang with 3 of my 4 brothers... I got a pedicure and LOADS of gossip from my friends, great hugs all around, a couple of happy hours - this honestly is the best week I could have asked for.  So why do I feel like I'm walking around in a cloud of self doubt?

I think my Aunt Chris put it best, "People want to know about your life overseas for all of 7 minutes."  This week was surreal - half the time I was comparing life in DC to life in Juba, and the other half I was thinking - in 3 days I'll be back in South Sudan, in 2 days I'll be back in South Sudan...  It's hard to go shopping when people who live right around me in Juba are sleeping under grass roofs.  It's hard to know that $60 for that dress at Gap (seriously, every dress at Gap costs $60) could pay for a family's meals for a month in Juba.  It's hard to be confronted with suffering, with no real outlet for these emotions.  You would think it's hard to live that way in Juba - like, why isn't it just as hard to brush my teeth there, knowing that the boda boda drivers are using sticks to brush their teeth?  Well, it is hard - but the contrast in the U.S. is so much stronger.

The last day I was home, we had a huge electric storm - with power getting knocked out all over the commonwealth of Virginia.  People were SO afraid of these 100 degree temperatures - without air conditioning, what would they do?  And I thought, "This is exactly what people in Juba deal with on a daily basis.  But they haven't had the privilege of education, fuel, or a full belly."  ugh.

I went through the week looking at people like their heads were screwed on backwards, or maybe like I was viewing them from underwater.  Maybe someday this culture shock thing will not hurt quite as much, but today-- it hurts.  It makes me scared to come back to D.C. in August, and it makes me scared to keep up this lifestyle of travel.  I thought I was invincible, but reality eventually catches up to us all.