My third day into being carless in the suburbs of the Bay Area, I was overjoyed when my younger brother finally handed me the keys to his car. Freedom! In N Out! Target! Americanism! I got in the car, put the music on to the highest volume I could tolerate without my ears starting to bleed and car-sang like I HAD NEVER CAR-SUNG BEFORE. The wind was blowing in my face (ok, it was the heater, but who’s counting?) and I was so excited to go to Target that it was almost embarrassing.
Finally, I got to Target. As I was walking in, this guy who was collecting money for something charitable complimented my dress and I was thinking, “NOT NOW BUDDY! I’m on a mission to spend $100 on things I don’t need, but want only because I SAW IT AT TARGET WHILE I WAS SHOPPING.” Instead, I went for “thanks” and walked into the store.
Then, my phone rang. It was my brother. His work called and he needed his car. Did you hear that? Yeah, that was the skip in my step dying. Damn it. So, within two minutes of stepping into the sweet, sweet taste of freedom, I had to turn back. TURN BACK! My backyard used to be Piazza Navona, The Pantheon, Campo de Fiori, and one of the seven wonders of the world WAS A BUS RIDE AWAY. Now, I can’t even get to a damn Target. Oh, how the mighty has fallen.
I get in the car and my brother calls as I’m driving away. We get into a little “disagreement” and when I get off the phone, something RIDICULOUS HAPPENS.
I start bawling my eyes out.
OVER TARGET.
Target.
TARGET!
Legitimate tears are smearing my eye make up and in my head, I’m stupidly thinking of funny tweets like, “Don’t cry over spilt Target” or “Nobody puts baby in the corner” and I’m like, WHO AM I!? I’m crying over Target and trying to think of ways to tweet about it that doesn’t make me sound pathetic, but also is self-deprecating enough that it’s funny. I’ve had prouder moments.
So, yes, if you were wondering, I AM HAVING REVERSE CULTURE SHOCK. I’m disoriented and definitely jet lagged and I’m feeling like a prisoner in my own house because my mom sold my car and the best thing I can do is walk to Starbucks which is over a mile away. When my family is here, we laugh and have fun, but since they have jobs where they actually leave the house, I’m stuck here hoping to god that I don’t get so bored that I slip into some sort of depression that causes me to mope around the house and eat Nutella out of the container. WITH A KNIFE.
And, I keep trying to explain it to my mom, but it only makes me sound like a complete freaking freak. “But, Mommmmmm, you don’t understand! I used to be able to walk outside my door and have ROME THERE. Here, I can’t even leave the house to go look at bras and underwear at Target.”
“Jamie, this is a good time to be with your family.”
“I KNOWWWWWW. BUT STILLLLLLLL.”
Rich. Compelling. Fascinating.
Also? My mom officially thinks I look different. Europe changed me. But, what it didn’t do was make me look hotter, sexier, maturer, or anything else-er. Apparently, according to my mother, I look 17 again. Which, would be awesome, if I was, I don’t know, in my 30′s, but considering I’m only 24 and now it looks like I’m barely legal enough to operate a car and not even close to being able to purchase an alcoholic beverage, it’s actually quite disconcerting.
So, to recap, not only did Europe make me a total snob and complete dramatic crybaby, but it also made me look 17.
SO GLAD I WENT.
{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
Brilliant. Try to do the European thing: “im imprisoned so i’ll write a book.” If that doesn’t work,Target.com
Haha, I totally felt the same way when I went home for Thanksgiving, but thankfully that was only for about four days… Suburbia, for the lose!
I get the same feeling when I go from living in DC to the suburbs of Massachusetts. When I’m home for the holidays I feel trapped, even though I have a car Boston is an hour away and there’s only so much you can do in Target.
Sorry, I’m not seeing the downside to looking 17! :p
But yeah reverse culture shock is very real…. sometimes I think it hits you harder because you totally don’t expect it and it hits you all at once, whereas regular culture shock you’re sort of prepared for and take in over time.
oh girl, I’m STILL trying to get over this not living in Europe thing. I think it might have ruined me.
This too shall pass baby….
Reverse Culture Shock can be a big issue. Europe might provide a stark contrast to Suburbia, but each environment presents an opportunity to flourish if you look hard enough! Focus on the positives on your environment rather than the negatives compared to Roma!
I’ll be having to try this advice out soon enough I feel
Eating nutella with a knife. Been there. Reverse culture shock is, well, shocking. Just start planning how you’ll get back. Even if it won’t happen for a while, just knowing you’ll go back makes it easier.
Aww! Poor girl. I’m so familiar with reverse culture. It’s ok, it sounds like you’re actually handling things fairly well. It’ll get better, I promise.
Ah, I remember that feeling.
How amazing is it to drive for the first time again? Love it.
Glad you went
It’s your attitude that makes you look and seem younger. That little skip in your step. The bright eyes, the glow in your skin. The high on life and excitment that you had, has given you a new take on life. It’s that walking journey in Italy that given you those rosy cheeks. It’s the excitment in your voice! And yes, Although you look years younger, you definetly don’t act it. You are beautiful and sophistcated and you hold your head high with confidence. And the stories you write and talk about….Forget about it….. they are so incredible and fun!!
That’s what I meant when I said you look like you were 17 again. You got your wonderful youthful sparkle back!!!! xoxo
Don’t worry, on my first day back in England after 10 months in Asia (mostly provincial China) I got so freaked out when I was walking along a street in my town by the quiet, and absence of people/cars/buses/bicycles/random dogs, that I spent far longer than I want to admit wondering if the world had ended and I was the only person left alive. Mmmm jet lag.