Coming Home and Moving On
When I ask people whether going on a mission or returning home is more challenging, most say that coming back is harder. That has been my experience too. It sometimes takes me a long time to feel “normal” again, to feel comfortable and to decide how to move forward with my life. I can share how I felt in coming back to Canada. As you read, please insert your own home and cultural experiences.
In this, the first in a two-part series, we will consider why coming back (or transitioning to a third place) is difficult. In the next, we’ll look at strategies for processing what happened while we were away and for moving on.
Why should coming home be difficult (and what good will come of it?)
When I stepped into the unknowns of my first mission in a new cultural environment, I carried solid objects like my toothbrush and typewriter (it was a while ago.) I also took both my conscious knowledge – skills like reading maps and making work plans. Finally, there was a large supply of unconscious knowledge – the values, beliefs and perspectives that made me who I was, both personally and culturally.
I dealt successfully with many challenges at the material and conscious level. I grew intellectually and in my skill sets. I became comfortable and knew how to make things happen.
There were also unconscious changes. I not only bargained now, but felt that it was normal and right. I not only managed the theater of time-consuming greetings but now understood that personal connection paid off in improved productivity.
My discomfort – my ‘culture shock’ – in the early months arose from the growth that was taking place at both the conscious and unconscious levels. By the time I left I scarcely thought about how I had changed. Things that seemed awkward or even wrong when I first arrived now seemed normal.
The idea of “right” – the right way to do things – is subjective. “Right” is whatever a group of people agree it is. Some drive on the right and some on the left. In one culture men and women acquaintances kiss on both cheeks. In another they don’t touch or even shake hands. In one culture we work and then, maybe, we socialize. In another we must party together – and then we can work effectively.
Culture shock is like having the chance to be born again, into experiencing another part of human existence and potential.
Then we return home. I went overseas with one perspective on life, distilled from all of my experiences to that point. I returned as a different person, with new skills, attitudes, joys, sorrows, tastes, habits and desires, all mixed up with the ones that I held before I left. The new “me” now experienced home itself as a new place.
The Canada I left was what I then thought it was. “Canada” for me was an idea – an unconscious collection of my experiences and upbringing and status and dreams. It is something different for a new immigrant or an aboriginal elder or an unemployed miner or a new graduate with her first job in the big city.
Because I was a different person from the one who left Canada I experienced home in a different way when I got back. While I was away I remembered Canada fondly and looked forward to relaxing in its embrace once again. But when I returned I no longer fit in the same way. Some things I didn’t like – consumerism, ignorance, the feeling of being an insignificant fish in a large and unexciting pond. Some things I found myself loving with an appreciation I didn’t have before. Canada was here to be discovered again just as I had the chance to discover the country and culture of my mission abroad.
I also experienced my friends and family in a new way. They didn’t know the new me and weren’t sure how to connect. To me, it seemed like they were the ones who had changed. Those who were most important to me needed to be re-discovered and understood from a new place, as they needed to rediscover me. In some ways this was a wonderful process and strengthened bonds and relationships. In others it was uncomfortable and a lot of work. It helps if everyone understands that no one is bad or broken, but that a normal process of change has taken place. When we are together, changes are gradual and almost invisible. When we are apart they may seem dramatic.
When I returned I reverted to many of my ‘old’ Canadian behaviours. I shook hands instead of bowing. I drove on the right instead of the left. I came to meetings early instead of late. In other ways I chose to remain different. I kept my love of spicy food. I remained more respectful of the elderly, and more determined to work for human rights and justice. I listened more critically to the news.
To some of those who knew me, these changes seemed strange. Internally, I was busy sorting and consolidating. I was recognizing that there was a broader range of possibilities than I knew before I went away.
As the culture shock on mission was uncomfortable – and a gift, so this re-entry culture shock is uncomfortable – and a gift. We need to treat our return much like we treated our moving abroad – as an opportunity in which we may feel confused for a while and from which we will emerge stronger and richer.
What if I’m moving on instead of coming home?
Sometimes we don’t come home. Instead of returning, we make a move from one new cultural exposure to another. We may have left Montreal to work in Mozambique and now find ourselves moving to Manitoba or Mauritania. Or we may have gone from being a manager to being an advisor and are now being hired as a teacher. How will this affect us?
Re-entry culture shock for those who come home is the pathway to resolving the confusing mix of old identities and new. When we move on instead of returning, we enter the third experience with that jumble of identity and idea pieces still inside us. We don’t know if our reactions to Manitoba are informed by our Montreal selves or our Mozambique selves.
We are more fully alive when we are being challenged and learning. In order to profit most completely from new experiences, however, we need to step back, process and integrate what we have learned. This is more challenging when we remain in motion with a new location or job.
It will work out. Resolution will come if you haven’t returned to a home base. It is important to recognize and respect the jumble inside. This is a great time to do a lot of reflective writing, or to have a friend with whom you can talk and bounce ideas and questions.
Application
A private journal is a friend in times of transition. Many of us keep one when we are away. Use it to continue capturing questions, observations and feelings when you are settling into home again, or moving on. Try the following exercises.
- Draw three pictures of yourself. (Don’t worry about not being an artist. Use stick figures and symbols or words – anything that will capture your reflections.) The first will be how you saw yourself before you went away. The second will be how you see yourself now. The third will be how you think others see you now. What changed between the first and second images? Make a list of everything you can think of to celebrate in the second picture, the you who emerged from this experience. In the gaps between the second and third, what is important to address and what can be resolved with time and acceptance?
- Indulge in the exercise of contemplating what you like and don’t like. Make two lists. In the first, in two columns, write down the things you are missing about the place where you were working abroad and then the things that you are glad not to deal with on a daily basis. In the second, in two columns, write down the things that you are rejoicing in now that you are home, and the things that you find harder to accept. Find someone who has been away to share your lists with and invite them to share what they would have written. It is reassuring to know that we aren’t the only ones with these kinds of reactions.
- As we continue to grow personally and professionally it is useful to have resources for reflection and learning. One of the best for those of us who work internationally is the Headington Institute www.headington-institute.org.
