#081816

last week i had the opportunity to return to the states to stand in my cousin’s wedding and i just returned to Bangkok early yesterday morning (at least two weeks now by the time i finish this entry). as i was preparing to return to the states, i anticipated i’d experience at least some form of culture shock, but when i arrived in Chicago i was surprisingly disappointed. i went through customs with no problems and managed to get a wifi connection to get a hold of my friend, Cate, who’d be picking me up from the airport. although that last part got a little complicated, everything was smooth and the only thing i was feeling at that point was tired from spending literally the longest day of my life traveling across the planet and through time. 

Cate and i spent the afternoon hanging out in Chicago before heading to Milwaukee where i’d meet up with my cousin, Koua, who’d bring me the rest of the way home. we went to a cafe and drank coffee that likely costed more than i’d ever want pay for a single drink--i finished the whole cup. we had ice cream at a little shop down the street that had more flavors than anyone ever needed. i caught a total of three pokemon while hopping from wifi to wifi. none of this bothered me in the slightest; i felt no dissonance. now maybe i was just too worn out to feel anything, or maybe there simply wasn’t anything to feel.

the remainder of my stay went more or less the same way. i ate out with friends too often, paid too much for food, and caught too few pokemon while hopping from wifi to wifi. of all the things that i encountered, only two things really frustrated me: getting a good night’s sleep and speaking in Hmong. it took a total of four days for me to be able to sleep past 4:30 am and another two days to finally be able to begin crawling through conversations in Hmong. every time i tried to speak, at least two words came out in Thai. it was strange. in Thailand, i often feel crippled by my limited Thai, but while i was in the US, i felt crippled by the inability to shake it off. i tried to talk to my aunt, and i accidentally asked “how are you?” in Thai. in an attempt to annoy my mom some more regarding my persistent, rebellious hair color, i accidentally asked, “aren’t i handsome?” half in Hmong and half in Thai. it wasn’t as funny as i’d hoped. my mom couldn’t understand the second half. i was disappointed. i’m usually funnier in the States.

although i was doing a lot of things i would have normally done, it all felt just a little more special; nothing quite felt normal. sure, i was meeting a lot of familiar faces, i was speaking a language that sort of rolled off my tongue easily, i was in a place where i knew all the streets, but it all felt slightly foreign. it felt like work. everything from having to re-learn how to use toilet paper to just sitting at home with a constant wifi connection. the nostalgia was so heavy in the States that even breathing the clean, Wisconsin air felt slightly laborious--and it wasn’t until i had touched down in Bangkok again that i began to feel as though i no longer had to try as hard to exist. it wasn’t until i crawled onto my sleeping mat at 4.30 in the morning that i felt at home. as i laid in “bed” i recall a sense of joy filling me up inside, like, “Finally.” it wasn’t too hot, too loud, too bright, too anything. it just felt normal, like i belonged here. and maybe it’s because i’ve lived here for almost a year now, but maybe it’s also because i really do belong here. maybe here is home.