reverse culture shock sucks. just in case you were wondering...

Fall

Today was a marvelous day...Charles returned from Cambodia on Wednesday and rode the train into the city to visit.(Unfortunately, Crystal was ill and stayed home.) We met the new couple that will be moving to Prey Veng and working with one of my old partners, NILH. They are a young, enthusiastic couple who are looking forward the the adventure of working in international development in rural Cambodia; I think they will do well.

After the meeting, Charles and I went to the Reading Terminal Market for lunch, bought honey and apple cider for my roommate and headed to Chinatown for bubble tea. It was refreshing feeling like I was back in Asia...ancestor shrines and all. It was also good to see another friend with whom I have many shared experiences.

Earlier this week one of my classmates said I always seem calm and have a peaceful presence. I was a little surprised because I often don't feel like I emit peace...more like a frantic bewilderment. But I noticed today that I don't stress about little things, or big things for that matter, so much anymore. Somehow in the greater scheme of things it doesn't seem necessary; everything will work out. And compared to life in Cambodia, life is relatively tame here....but it's still an adventure. I love exploring the city...this place surprises me when I least expect it. I found a building with Khmer writing on it in my neighborhood, between 46th and 47th. Fall has come to the city as the my tree lined street bursts with oranges, golds and reds. Biking invigorates my body as well as my appreciation for old houses, flowers and dodging cars. Farmer's markets are full of apples, pumpkins and spinach. The diversity of peoples, cultures and languages is comforting. This city has a rhythm of its own...mindful awareness simply allows me to join in the melody.

I used to hate fall, its arrival announcing the return of cold weather, gray skies and numb appendages. But autumn is breathtaking. My perspective is different; change is eminent and oh, so beautiful.

church

I don’t know where I belong anymore. Let me explain.

I'm afraid Christianity in America has lost its passion. It’s become mainstream, selfish, narcissistic, bland, couch-potato, feel good fluff. Core values include promoting creationism, pro-life, heterosexuality and “saving souls.” These are good things to promote and I respect those who strongly believe in them…but I’m don’t fit in there. I don’t see these as pressing issues in my faith. I need a gut-retching, enduring, bold challenge to seek justice, love, peace, understanding, and tolerance. I need a community where I can be held accountable, not only for my daily actions and prayer life, but for the greater ills of society. The pain and hurts I’ve caused by compliance, compliance with a world that is inherently broken with systemic injustice. I need something real and tangible. I’ve just spent three years of my life in a corrupt country with few resources to bring about lasting healing; I need to know it wasn’t in vain. I need to know there’s still a community willing to take me in and care for me as I rediscover this strange reality of America.

I don’t know when I became a liberal...if that's what you want to call it. I guess I never realized that justice, nutritious food, a safe place to sleep and health care were all part of the liberal agenda. Why is America so polarized in politics? I’ve never been much for politics…it just seems like a bunch of people arguing and no one ever budging on their stance. Throughout history when a new sect of Christianity emerged, those who followed were labeled as radicals. They were bold, passionate, crazy, and liberal. Yet in the Bible Belt today, being a liberal is bad. Heaven forbid we think of the poor, malnourished or lame when policies are made. Has Christianity become so individualized that we talk to God, but not each other? God empowers individuals en masse to generate lasting change; it’s essential we work together…and yes, that requires talking to each other. Listening. Praying. Weeping. Celebrating. Greeting. Caring.

I never felt like I fit in well in established, mainstream Christianity before I lived abroad. Now I certainly don’t fit.

What now?

Classes started Monday. I enjoy them immensely, except for some minor confusion about my one class. It's a 500 level graduate class that is combined with a 300 level undergraduate class and my lab section meets before lecture. It's a bit confusing, but I think it will all work out.

I'm in Philly doing what I had wanted and planned on for so long...going to graduate school and working towards becoming a registered dietitian. But something is wrong. I don't seem to know who I am anymore. From a logical point of view, I understand the whole re-entry culture shock thing. I know my identity has comepletely changed with returning to America. I know I'm going through culture shock by moving to a city when I have lived my entire life in the country. I know I moved to a place where I didn't know anyone (I'm meeting new people every day).

Yet, there's still this innate fear that unsettles my soul, a fear that I'm no longer serving God. God took me to Cambodia and I had an amazing adventure serving Him. But I'm no longer doing that, so how do I continue to know I'm serving Him? Is grad school just a selfish desire that is distracting me from further bettering the world? There was no dramatic calling to study, just a path that was created for me.

When Jesus called his disciples he asked them to abandon everything - their families, jobs, reputations, social status, everything - to follow him. What have I abandoned? Hardly everything. Yes, in Cambodia I gave up some things, but I was able to return to a very similar life that I had led before. And now I seem to be baffled as to how to continue to serve God. And once more, I have this fear God will abandon me because I am no longer in Cambodia and am off pursing selfish desires. But that is totally ridiculous since He has said He'll never leave me.

"sounds like you're a Buhrman"

or so my brother replied when I told him today that I don't like moving. And how can that be since I love traveling and experiencing new things...yet tend to utterly dread the process of transitioning from one place to another. Perhaps I'm just more of a country girl than I realized and I really am afraid of the big city.

Perhaps...

Or maybe I'm still trying to catch up on all of the things that have happened over the past three years...and things that haven't changed.

Like how bumpy my parents' backyard is. It's not flat! There's slight hills and little grooves even thought it looks flat.

Like how all of my Buhrman cousins are either married, engaged or soon to be. When did we grow up?

And, seriously, when did we grow up? When did I get into this much debt? How has my brother managed to save more money than I'm in debt for?

How do people my age own houses?

When did people become discontent with their lives and start to complain about everything. What happened to the joy?

How did I accumulate so much stuff? And it's not even valuable or useful stuff but yet it fills up a whole storage shed.

When did I become unable to transform my anxiety into words so that the only way they could escape was through tears?

I always thought the hardest thing I do was to leave and go live overseas. I now believe returning is where the true difficulty begins.

a new adventure

I have decided to keep this blog and continue to post what life is like transitioning back to America and my new adventure as a graduate student at Drexel in Philadelphia.

Food Security in America?

For my one class, I read "Garden-Based Nutrition Education Affects Fruit and Vegetable Consumption in Sixth Grade Adolescents" from the Journal of the American Dietetic Association. This study confirms that nutrition education along with gardening is more effective in increasing fruit and vegetable intake than just a nutrition class or no intervention. Although fruit and vegetable intake doubled, averaging 4.5 servings, this is still below the recommended 5 servings a day.

In the four days I've been home, I've noticed America is rather fat. One in three persons in the US is overweight or obese, using BMI. Food is everywhere; it's advertised, sold, and produced...everywhere.

In Cambodia, food was a life or death commodity. Overconsumption of calories is still rare in the provinces. Rice production is dependent of rainfall and flooding and if it's a bad year, there's no food. Food security is a huge issue and the one organization I worked with was working to meet this need. Integrated farming systems, including home vegetable gardens, rice production, and fish ponds were encouraged as a way to sustainably produce food for a poor family. The health of the family likewise increased by the consumption of nutrient dense food.

In America, food is also a life or death commodity. However, it's overconsumption that can kill. And yet, fruits and vegetables are not eaten in adequate amounts. For some places, fruits and vegetables are not available due to seasons, cost or dislike. But isn't this a food security issue? Shouldn't there be enough nutritious food available for everyone...whether coming from a rich country or a poor country?

Is there a correlation or am I just trying to see something that isn't there? Is this my way of grasping at something I can understand? I don't understand my home country anymore. Maybe I never really understood it but just assimilated because that was the easier path. The simpler path. The expected path.

Why do we travel? We do we move? Isn't it just easier to stay put? It is. But it's so bland, so dull. Challenges and opportunities for personal growth don't arise when we remain in one place.

I'm challenged by the stark contrast I see between overweight Americans and underweight Cambodians. I admit it's part of a greater personal struggle to try to tie this two worlds together and possibly understand each a bit better.