Although I have a hard time admitting to it, it seems I'm still going through the grueling process of reverse culture shock. I'm not sure I can explain it well, but it's enough to recognize I'm dealing with it on a daily basis. I read enough travel blogs and see the pictures of both friends and strangers who are having the time of their lives. Who are finding themselves in the same position I was in just a few months ago. Who are finding themselves. And while I couldn't be happier for them, it breaks my heart.

Traveling is an experience like no other. With friends, strangers, or by yourself, it opens you up to ideas and possibilities that you never even knew existed. And that, I have to remind myself, is what brought me here.

I'll never forget the first few times I met foreigners in Can Tho. You always go through the same sequence of questions. "What brought you here" I'm not sure. "What did you study in school?" Music. People never understood what that meant or why I wasted my time or what the hell I was doing here. (Or was I just so uncomfortable with the thought myself that I assumed all of this? Maybe they admired it. Maybe not.) Everyone had plans for "life after Vietnam". Mostly for grad school. I felt like I was in high school again and everyone assumed everyone else was going to college, because that's what you do. These people all assumed that grad school came next. Sure they were taking a year off and traveling, but grad school was always in the future. Not once in my life prior to these moments did I ever consider grad school. Not only was it out of my reach financially, but music industry kids don't need a Master's. Hell, they don't even need a Bachelor's. But it made me wonder why I never thought of it as within my reach. Why couldn't I get a Master's? Why couldn't I learn something new, get a second chance? I had already fallen of the music industry boat (and gladly.) My time away presented me with new knowledge and ideas that I never had accepted before. I was eager to explore, eager to learn. And then all of the sudden I was eager to come back. So I made it work. I put myself in the position to obtain a Master's Degree starting as soon as January, and I could completely it as slowly or as quickly as I want, and all for free. So what's my problem?

Every once in a while I have a slight anxiety attack that dances around the question what have I done. Why am I in contract at a full time job with a salary and benefits? Unable to leave at the drop of a hat. I'm settling into the rush of American life. The money. The worry. The stress. Not once in Vietnam did I have to deal with any of that. Not in the same way, anyway. You want to take a nap? Sure, we'll close down the town for two hours every afternoon so we all can nap! You want your meal to be made fresh right in front of you, with the freshest ingredients I just picked from my backyard? We can do that! Do you want a market where you can buy fresh fruit for practically nothing, every day? We'll put one on every block! These are the simple things that I miss.

And now I miss people. I miss everyone in Vietnam. I miss all of my friends who are on their own travel adventures. I miss my students who thought I was amazing and perfect no matter what I did. I miss everyone smiling at me as I walk down the street.. just because they are happy to see me... even if they don't know me. I miss laying in a hammock. The list goes on.

The irony of the whole thing, and I should have seen this coming, is that I missed home so much. Not "home" persay, but my friends and family. I missed having my network of people. I missed being in college and going out drinking and making stupid decisions and not being judged, because everyone else was doing the same thing. It opens up the discussion of.. are we ever satisfied? I, apparently, am not.

I think I'm afraid to make a life for myself here because I'm afraid I'll get stuck here. I work with amazing women who worked full time to get their Master's degree, too. One got an MPA, one and MBA. And they're still working at Northeastern. They've settled. And if they were happy with that decision, I'd be happy for them. But the more I get to know everyone the more I hear about how they would rather be any where else. And maybe they aren't talking travel, or even leaving Boston. But they're still in the same place (albiet any promotions) that they were ten years ago. And they aren't happy. And even when they aren't talking about it, I can see it. They only make me want to leave even more. So what do I do now? I stay on my toes and try to remember that I am here because I wanted to be here. And I don't have to be here forever. And I can take trips and explore America on the little dime that I do have. And instead of sitting around missing people I can make a life for myself here. As long as I remind myself that one day, I'd like to be able to leave.

"Transitory routine. A travel paradox. At some point I’ll have to reconcile the love of getting settled with the love of leaving, the love of routine with the love of novelty, the desire for newness with the desire for familiarity. Or not."