Free Food!! :: Terrors of Re-entry and Culture-Shock-ish Things

Part TWO of {who knows how many}

So after my body recovered from the alleged Dengue demon, I jumped back on a plane and
flew to Costa Rica to meet my team for month 11 of 11. The month was great, God called me to move back there, final debrief came and went and the world kept spinning.

I said goodbye to my family of 60, knew I would never see a large portion of them again, hopped on another plane and headed home for good - sort of. God had called me to move back to Costa Rica, remember? During my layover I found a Chili's because, if you know me, that's what I do in airports. Every single one.

After thanking my server in Spanish for my water, I giggled and pretended like I did it on purpose.

The young couple sitting {very} close to me had walked straight out of the Hampton's - or so it appeared. With her perfect golden hair, designer carry-on, polished nails and 45 karat wedding rings, she sat there with her business-suited husband - neither of them older than 35 - enjoying a meal like normal, Americanized people would.

For whatever reason I couldn't eat all of my triple dipper. So with a honey-chipotle chicken strip and a full basket of chips on my table, I decided I should stop before I walked out of there looking pregnant. I leaned over to ask the power couple if either of them would like my leftovers. Praise the good Lord He stopped me before the words actually left my mouth. "Oh my gosh, Ashli! You seriously just did that? You almost just did that!!" I thought to myself.

See, on the World Race, resources are very limited. We had to eat on about $4 per day and, let's be honest, it doesn't go very far. So (a) we weren't used to having much food at meal time and (b) if by chance we did have some left over, one of the guys on our team would swoop it up like an owl snatching it's prey. Wasting food simply was not an option on the World Race. Especially after seeing and serving all the starving people we did.

The girls on my team and I found a Chili's in the Philippines!! 

So it was just instinct to look for someone to eat the rest of my food. They probably thought I was stalking them, waiting for a chance to grab her designer and run. But no ... I was just being a freak trying to give away free food. I can only imagine what their reactions may have been had I actually offered.

Again, you may be thinking, "That's so ridiculous. My mind would never go there." And again, it's okay. I laughed at the toothpaste girl and the white-out girl and all the people who said re-entry was just straight up hard.

I made it home and for three weeks I lived the life I had left behind 11 months prior. I visited with friends and family who I had missed so much. I had a really big, fun, welcome-home party where I told stories about the World Race.

The point is, I never really felt like I had missed much. Relationships seemed to pick up where they left off. My bedroom felt normal and my church was just like I left it. I even told lots of people, "Reentry hasn't been hard for me. It's been pretty smooth." I am not really sure why it was so easy then and much different than it is now, but for some reason, it was.

So ya see, culture shock isn't always breakdowns in grocery stores (yes, I did that and I will tell you about it in the next post). It isn't always big, dramatic, and obvious. Sometimes it is. But other times it is quiet, and subtle and if you aren't the one experiencing it, you'd never know it was happening.

I will talk more about this in the next post but if you know someone who may or may not be going through re-entry and culture shock type things, try to be very patient with them. Try to understand even though there is no way you will relate. Let them cry if they need to cry or let them laugh if they need to.

Until next time...