I’m just about to my 10 year Guate-versery, and it’s sparked some conversations about culture, “normal”, and home.

I have so many family and friends in the states, and I love visiting in person. But it’s actually quite complicated.

It’s very hard even.

I heard the term “reverse culture shock“, and always found it an odd idea to grasp- until it happened to me.

The first few visits were not so hard because, home still felt more or less how I left it. It was hard not to be able to share so many details of my life with those I loved, but I could still relate quickly to what was happening in their lives.

The longer I have lived outside of the states however, the harder that becomes.

My view of “normal” has changed, and it takes more and more explaining to share a simple story. I forget the things that are not normal to people in the states.

“We got stuck behind a procession with the kids” leads to a lengthy explaination of Catholic processions, alfombras, bombas, incense, – frankly an entire tradition and it’s cultural ramifications, just to reach why it was so hard to be stuck there with the kids.

My set of normal daily struggles are a completely different now, like flooded streets leaving wild solutions feeling normal to me and distracting when mentioned in stories because “no, that part was not the point!”

It goes the other way too.

I’m farther from US culture, and it’s harder to understand it now.

There has been a solid cultural shift that even folks within the country have trouble understanding others’ viewpoints- and I wasn’t present for it.

It’s hard to know what topics we talk about now, and what we don’t. It’s hard to relate to stories shared because I don’t know the subtitles behind the stories– the state of the current housing market, inflation, and recent crisis to understand why their story holds significance.

They may share their daily struggle problem, and when I try to relate, the experience that I think relates only seems to “one up” theirs because to them it sounds extreme, when I thought it comparable, relatable.

Only, I’m from the states, so I should know the subtitles of my own country, right??

Finally, there is the time factor- I only visit the states for a few weeks, and although it sounds like a lot of time for just a short meet up, it is quite overwhelming.

No matter how much I run around, I always seem to let someone down who wanted to spend time together. All the while, each conversation takes more energy to understand when I don’t know the right things to say anymore.

Folks often suggest “isn’t it nice to be home?” My real rest comes when I get back to my home – back to Guatemala.

Late September I moved out of the valley I’ve lived in nearly a third of my life.

It’s been a lot of adjusting to my new town and its culture, because although both of these towns are Mayan, they are very different!

Many do not realize how vastly diversified Guatemala really is with extreme ranges in culture, topograftcs, weather patterns, economy, and even government influence as some areas are so remote that the military doesn’t have presence there.

After a few months learning my new San Andres, I returned to my old San Andres, within San Antonio, the Vally I’ve called home for so long.

This is to the extent that some local ladies referred to me as “de” San Andres at a check point. Cue the lengthy explanation on why that wording matters in Spanish.

Basically, she felt that I belonged to the town as much as someone who was from there. She said I was from there– but not in a temporary way as someone who lives there for now, but a face that belongs in that crowd.

When I went home last week, it was home to San Antonio. San Antonio, Guatemala.

That’s where my heart called home.

I will soon see family in the states, but my heart called this valley in Guatemala home. I will go to the states, after I visit home.

It wasn’t just because the kids are there. Or even because my family, my second family God gave me, is located there either, though those are the largest reasons it’s home.

But it was also the town itself.

The familiar crests of the surrounding mountains, the volcanoes- my volcanoes who have hovered above my world for a decade. I was also the curves of the streets, community pilas, or awkward obstructions.

The faces passing by just felt right. The traditional clothing was from “my” town, and the kids gathered in the right places to run and play.

I knew how conversations worked, and they flowed naturally, giving energy rather than taking it.

This didn’t feel like visiting the states- an overwhelming weight of not quite understanding what I used to know intuitively before, and not even knowing why I feel so uncomfortable.

This felt like a breath of fresh air- coming home.

I knew how to talk to people, and I understood the significance behind what their stories meant.

A friend had to choose an alternate pigment for her tejido because this one would bleed.

Another friend left her car the town over because it’s fair, so the only road will be cut off completely.

Now how can I possibly explain that familiarity because the town still drives me nuts with some of its cultural nuances that I still don’t fully understand- and maybe never will. How can it be home when I still have to look up a few words, or ask my friend what this practice means?

At times it’s still hard to live in this culture that I didn’t grow up in, even while I understand it better in some ways than the one I did grow up in.

Can you make sense of that? Because I can’t!

Someone recently referred to my struggles in this area as third culture struggles.

And, really, that’s it.

I’m landing somewhere between the culture I was raised in, and the culture that I live in. I don’t quite fit into either, but both are mine.

It’s a personal challenge to be able to see the flaws in my world view through eyes of another worldview. It’s a blessing to get to employ the best of both, even while facing the challenges in them both.

So, if you see me in the states, please be patient with me, and understand it’s harder to be there than to be home— but it’s also great to be there!

This life might include the challenges of two plus cultures, but it also includes the richness of them as well.

I would choose this again a heartbeat!