(Source: twoifbycarpet)

The past few days have triggered reverse culture shock in surprising but mostly positive ways.

Among a myriad of things, shopping without an exchange rate, standing in speedier lines — a welcome change from Europe’s “leisurely” (a.k.a. slow) pace — hearing accents that are easier to understand, and seeing people and places I’ve missed have made me deliriously happy, in spite of my sprained ankle, about being home.  I smile at strangers.  I forget to check my email.  I’ve let go of all the little stresses I must have accumulated during my year (as ridiculously amazing as it was) in a foreign country.

There are moments when I’m caught off-guard.  Sometimes, I ask people to point my way towards the “toilet” instead of the “bathroom” or to get me a tea “for take away” rather than “to go.”  I need to get re-used to bussing my dishes in cafes.  And, according to amused friends, I now say certain words in a pseudo-British accent.

Right now, my main concerns are letting my ankle(s?) heal, preparing for my work at Breakthrough Cambridge, finishing my creative non-fiction piece for my Kenyon seminar, and continuing to unpack.

I think it’s safe to say that, after my year away, I’ve slipped smoothly into another life.  That’s not to say my memories won’t stay with me forever.  They have — and will continue to — shape my worldview.  I look forward not only to returning to England, but also to traveling and seeing as much of the world as I can.

But, for now, I’m exhausted, and home is where I’m meant to be.

I wish you all an amazing summer in the U.S. and abroad.

This year I…

Cried about leaving home; climbed the cliffs of Tintagel, King Arthur’s birthplace; visited the ruins of Exeter Castle; took a late-night taxi to the main hospital in Prague; wrote two film scripts; gazed upon the skeleton of one of the famous Irish Giants; ate a massive amount of chocolate in Bruges, Belgium; saw Jane Austen’s handwritten manuscript in the British Library; walked through Amsterdam’s Red Light District; climbed to an ancient city at the top of a mountain in Greece; rode a horse through Ireland’s lush green landscape; went to Shakespeare’s house; had a “life-path reading” in Glastonbury; climbed up the Tor; saw the sun rise over Stonehenge; had my first Cornish pasty; went a-wassailing; watched “Antony and Cleopatra” at the RSC; visited a childhood friend in the icy wonderland of Heidelberg, Germany; saw the Berlin Wall; took tea in the Exeter Cathedral; discovered a field full of cows on my way to the train station; and, while taking the train to London for the last time, sprained my ankle.     

My dad asked me over Skype last week how I felt.  Sad?  Happy?  Nostalgic?  Glad?

The only answer I could muster?  ”Tired.”

I had just spent my last week in Exeter writing final papers, researching and writing my creative non-fiction project (FYI, on the public display of human remains and the complicated ethical history surrounding the subject) for the Kenyon seminar, cleaning my room, shipping boxes, packing, and running around town doing last-minute errands.

I was tired.  I was DEAD tired.

Then, on my last night in Exeter, when everything was packed and ready to go, I started feeling differently.  The only way I can describe it is that I feel cleaned out, like all the drawers I emptied in my flat.  I’m sad about leaving England but SO ready to crack open my school year, take away my stories, and bring them home.

At the moment, I’m enjoying my last couple of days in London.  In spite of my exhaustion — and my sprained ankle (grrr) — I can honestly say this city never fails to delight me.  I’m flying out tomorrow afternoon, but I’m seriously contemplating returning to London in a few years for grad school.  I guess we’ll see.

For now, I have an amazing summer to look forward to: a reunion with my family; walks with my puppy, Juno; a move to Davis Square with Rivka; salsa-dancing with Bill; long conversations with good friends; and an exciting teaching job in Cambridge!!

Finally, I’ll be psyched to return to Kenyon at the end of August.

Thank you all for supporting me through this year — it’s meant a lot to me.

With love.