A daunting return

I've lived and worked for the last 13 years outside of the U.S. — including 11 years with Mercy Corps —in Azerbaijan, Indonesia, Lebanon, Eritrea and currently Kosovo. But today, I am preparing to return "home" to the U.S., where I will continue working for Mercy Corps from our global headquarters in Portland, Oregon.

While I am an American, America itself is a strange place to me. While I know the language, I am no longer familiar with the customs, practices or latest trends. I don't have an iPhone, Twitter account, netbook and no hint of wireless anywhere. I bring with me a British husband and our three-year-old-son who have been only infrequent visitors to the U.S. — so we are all in for a big change.

Don't get me wrong; I feel privileged to have the opportunity to work and live in such rich cultures and spend exciting, eventful times in each location. And I hope again to return to the field. But as I turn to move back to my "home" in the U.S., it feels a little daunting.

Some refer to this as reverse culture shock — a term generally used for former Peace Corps Volunteers who have been in remote villages, as they return to the developing world and react to all the modern conveniences. This is not the case for us because, while we in some instances we only had basic conveniences, we've always had at least some access —admittedly intermittently — to modern conveniences.

I am a bit nervous about the transition. Over the last 13 years, when I've moved from one country office to another, there has always been a team of Mercy Corps adminsitrative and logistics staff to help in the transition: finding a house, installing generators or extra water tanks, getting a local driver's license and installing a telephone line whenever possible. But this time, it is up to me and my family. It's not that we can't manage it ourselves, of course, but as an expatriate Mercy Corps staffer, such assistance in settling in has always been the custom.

And then there's the challenge of trying to do things remotely, through use of technology rather than human interaction. Already I have run into a few glitches in trying to do things like find a preschool for my son or buy a car. I've spent much time researching on the internet and finding email addresses to contact. The usual kind of response I receive is: give us our number and we will call you, or come in and visit. When I inform them I am overseas, I usually get silence or they tell me to contact them when we've arrived.

By no means am I asking for sympathy for my transition — I'm simply reflecting that, for the first time since graduate school (I am not telling how many years ago that was), I will be living in the U.S., and for the first time with my young family. After years spent overseas, I'm not quite sure what we'll find or how we'll feel.

I've got to run. The packers are coming and we have to divide up the items we plan to donate here, as well as figure out what we will need to take for the first month or two until the rest of our household goods arrive. Moving "home" promises to be an adventure.