"Was it strange whenever you came back? Did you feel like that?" asked my sister having experienced a little bit of living a life away from home herself recently.
"Yes," I replied. "Till I realised you can't live two lives, because if you try, you aren't living the life that's in front of you right now and you'll miss out on all that life has to offer by holding on too tightly to the past."
Three years ago, I left home to live and work in SH. The first time I came back it was for a month and I spent the first two weeks feeling like a stranger in my homeland. It's unsettling. Everything's familiar and yet tinged with a subtle difference you can't put your finger on. It's frustrating. It's disconcerting, and it has a name - reverse culture shock.
It took me the next two weeks to readjust and just when things were starting to feel normal again, it was time to go back.
It was strangely comforting going back to SH, which in a 180 degree turn had become more familiar to me than home, even as I was feeling the tug of family left behind. For the first few days, I chatted to my sister every night and emailed my parents daily, trying to keep those ties fresh and immediate. Then work and SH life took over again. I reverted to texting occasionally and emailing periodically.
The next time I came home it was less of a shock, now that I knew what to expect. Perhaps it was also because I was only home for two weeks. It was easier that round, but it still took me those two weeks to feel part of home life again. When I left (once more), I did so determined to keep in better contact with my family and friends. Again, it didn't last.
And it happened each and every time I came back till I left SH to come home for a long-term stop this June.
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