It’s been an interesting transition back to the United States. Not only the present, but the past seems so foreign to me.
The Lydia I am now doesn’t seem to fit into this frosted world of frumpy coats and boots and frozen smiles. When I click through old photographs, it is difficult to recognize the middle child of my family, to place myself in her unguarded eyes. As the daughter of two missionary kids, I’ve heard the basics of Reverse Cultural Shock 101. I knew that I was going to feel like an alien. I just didn’t realize the extent to which I would feel unfamiliar unto myself.
Dad said I can’t just forget the old me. I need to accept the chubby middle-schooler, the too-nice, naively people-pleasing high-schooler, the chubbier college freshman, the save-the-world, Spanish-speaking, orphan-hugging sophomore, and the invisible, love-sick, hidden hermit junior as all part of what’s shaped the present me.
So, instead of deleting the rest of all my unflattering old Facebook photos, I deactivated my account (again). I decided that it’s all I can do to keep up with my face-to-face friends without trying to include past pages in the present chapter of my book. Seriously, though, people. There is always email.
In a rare moment of isolation and inspiration amidst the almost-Christmas bustle, I managed to pen this poem to express how quickly time and transitions can run away from you.
Uma semana já Passou sem parar Passou sem me permitir Tempo pra pensar Uma semana já Passou sem parar Passou sem mim ver O sol nem céu azul Uma semana já Passou sem parar Passou sem mim conversar Na língua que me apaixonou Uma semana já Passou sem parar Passou sem mim sentir O rítmo do mar Uma semana já Passou sem parar Passou sem mim andar Nas ruas do meu coraçãoCreative Translation:
One week already Passed by without stopping Passed by without allowing me Time to think One week already Passed by without stopping Passed by without me seeing The sun nor the blue sky One week already Passed by without stopping Passed by without me talking In the language that I’ve learned to love One week already Passed by without stopping Passed by without me feeling The rhythm of the sea One week already Passed by without stopping Passed by without me walking Through the streets of my heart