I've been stateside for one whole week now, and I have felt the most insane spectrum of emotions since stepping off my plane in Detroit. I didn't quite expect the transition back home to be so crazy, after only being gone five months. However, things have changed. Much like the quote from my favorite coming-of-age novel The Perks of Being a Wallflower: "Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody."
I came home on the 4th of July; what a day to arrive stateside. I was greeted by both of my parents at the airport, along with a bag of snacks and enough hugs to suffocate me. Walking into our house blew my mind, simply because I'd kind of forgotten what to expect. My dad shoved a Bell's Oberon into my hand, my mom pulled a dozen Mediterranean salads and dishes out of the fridge, and we ate and drank on the patio. As it got darker, fireworks started. I'm not usually a fan, but standing in my front yard with my mom's arm around me, and hearing her say "We told the whole neighborhood you were coming home-this is all for you!" made it all feel just right. I slept so soundly.
The next few days I got to know St. Clair Shores again: I went for walks and drove my dad's Dodge Ram on I-75 and went to a grocery store. I dropped off some film at a camera shop and did a ton of laundry. I thrifted a few new shirts, bought shampoo, and got my cell service turned back on. Lots of random coming home errands and getting used to the ways things work around here again.
I spent my weekend with my very lovely ex-roommate and still best friend Morgan, galavanting in the Dequindre Cut, DNR Outdoor Adventure Center, and the riverfront downtown in Detroit. We grabbed dinner at Detroit Vegan Soul, visited her dad's apartment, and then made our way to my parents' house to have a bonfire. We swapped stories all night and things felt tranquilo.
On Sunday we packed up the boat and headed out on Lake St. Clair. Morgan and I tubed off the back of the boat, and then we anchored and spent the morning and afternoon snacking, swimming, floating, and talking. It was a lovely way to get to know my lake again. Unfortunately, I got pretty sunburnt and felt seasick for the first time in years. I was also feeling bastante anxious to get home and get on the road to Grand Rapids with Morgan.
Being in Grand Rapids was surreal. It was like everything was still there, like when I'd left, but none of it was mine anymore. It was unsettling, and I ultimately felt displaced. Then I realized going back home to my parents' house would likely bring on the same feelings, and a feeling of homesickness for a home I no longer have struck me, hard.
I filled up my days in GR this week going for walks, going to the park, getting lunch with friends, going out for dinner, running a few errands, and looking for jobs and housing. I even befriended some Latino neighbors and they said I could come over and speak Spanish with them whenever I'd like. But walking around and visiting some of my favorite places still felt weird. I just kept thinking about how different things were the last time I'd been there, and it made me sad. It made me wish I'd never left, because I wanted to feel love and comfort, and instead was just feeling a weird kind of nostalgia.
I never expected to pick things back up where I left off; that would be terribly naive. However, I did expect to still feel like this was home. Very suddenly, without a job or a place to live or dance classes and volunteering, it just doesn't feel like home. At least right now, that is.
It's pretty early on to be having expectations that things will go back to "normal" or that I'll find my new normal. It's only been a week, after all. But patience has never been my strong suit, and while I learned some patience in Panamá, a lot of that doesn't apply so much here. Or maybe it does, and I'm just choosing to be extremely impatient. Needless to say, I've got a lot of work to do to rebuild myself here. I've sent out 6 job applications, gotten one interview (it's tomorrow, wish me luck!), and taken a peek at housing options in Grand Rapids (rent is on the up and up, please send help). I'm rebuilding relationships, tapping into the large professional network I left behind, and trying to stay positive. I've already experienced a few changes I didn't expect to come home to, and am trying to navigate those in the best ways I know how.
One of the hardest things has been spending a lot of time alone. I spent a ton of time alone in Panamá, specifically right before I left the country. It's hard to be alone even more here, because everyone is at work during the day and has a lot going on outside of work, too. I feel a bit inadequate and out of the loop being the stay-at-home RPCV right now, and that's a tough feeling to admit. I know once I'm back to work and dance and whatnot though, that I'll feel a lot better about that. I've just got to give it time. For now, though, it's hard.
I know I made the right decision to come home: I'm happy to be here. It feels so good to be in a familiar place and to be seeing friends. I'm taking my time to visit people and tell my stories, and my gente here really seem to care about what I experienced and want to know where I want to go next. I just need to find the answer for them.
Until next time,
Hannah