I am writing this from a table outside my university’s library, after spending the morning in one of the beautiful reading rooms inside the library. I was thrilled to have an academic work space available to me, but eventually I had to leave, because even my warmest flannel wasn’t able to keep me from freezing in the AC: three years in a tropical country really changes your tolerance for cold.
I’m back in the United States, even back in New York State, and this time I’m staying. I have no immediate plans to run off to Indonesia again, the way I have had for the past three years. It’s a strange feeling, I must admit. Indonesia has become such a huge part of my life: not knowing when I will visit again (because I am certain I will do so someday) feels almost wrong in a way, to not have a return date.
This is not to say that I am not happy to be back in the U.S. I am thrilled to be home for an extended period of time. I still get excited every time I see a water fountain, and I have a new appreciation for the efficiency valued by most Americans. I walk into stores that already have their Autumn decorations on display, and while everyone around me grumbles that it is too early to be thinking about Halloween, I have to resist the urge to dance for joy: I am a girl who loves the changing of seasons, and I have been limited to two for the past three years. I entertain fantasies of subsisting entirely on pumpkin-flavored drinks and candy corn, and I am already looking forward to Thanksgiving turkey.
Of course, I do miss Indonesia from time to time, and readjusting to life back in the U.S. hasn’t been completely smooth. I sometimes forget how to say certain phrases in English, or use Indonesian words without realizing what I am doing, confusing everyone around me; I am so far behind on American slang that often when others speak, I am the one lost. Already, I find myself craving the friendliness that permeates so much of Indonesian culture, continually finding Americans almost rude in comparison. And as excited as I am for good New York pizza and my mom’s pie, I would do ghastly things for some fresh sambal or krupuk.
Years ago, now, towards the end of my first ETA grant, I wrote a piece that touched, in part, on my mixed feelings of having to leave my site. Someone quoted a part of this back at me a few weeks before I left Indonesia, and it has stuck with me as I have tried to adjust back to life Stateside: “…since I cannot be in two places at once, I now no longer have the privilege of ever living in a place where I am not missing someone.” This has proven to be the hardest part of being home thus far. True, I have already gotten to visit with beloved friends that I haven’t seen in person in years. I have friends and family members who plan on getting married in the next year, and this time I will actually be able to attend, and celebrate alongside them, instead of just look at the photos later. This is amazing. But all the wonderful friends I have made in the past three years are on the other side of the world, and now it is their turn to only interact with me via Skype calls and WA messages.
Living in Indonesia was not always easy. Coming back to the United States and preparing to start grad school has sometimes been hard. They’re different, but one is not preferable to the other. I just exchanged one challenge for another.
I will find ways to blend my two homes, and keep them together in my heart. I will learn which chilis are the best for making sambal, and make my own. I will teach those close to me my favorite phrases in Indonesian, so that Bahasa Campur becomes somewhat more acceptable. I will shamelessly wear batik at least a few times a week. I will learn to no longer be surprised by the elements of American culture that I missed for three years, but I will also, I hope, never come to take them for granted. I will find a way to fit all my friends, from whatever country, into my life no matter how busy my schedule gets.
If there is anything that I learned while working with the ETA Program in Indonesia, it is that everything is a process, and that process never ends. I may have left Indonesia, but that doesn’t mean that I am finished with my experience there: it will continue to shape my experience here in America, and as I continue to learn and grown, my own understanding of my time there will change as well.
I’m excited to see where the journey takes me.
For those curious about the details of what I am doing next, I am pursuing my master’s in Applied Linguistics (with a TESOL focus) at Stony Brook University, on Long Island. I’ll be here for the next two years, studying and exploring the local area and New York City (a mere hour and a half train ride from me!) when I am not drowning in all of the reading and writing everyone has been warning me about. It’s sure to be very different from what I have been doing for the past two years, but I am excited for the challenge and the chance to learn more about education and language.
I have not yet actually decided whether I will continue to blog throughout my time here, but I would like to. I have come to love the platform, and goodness knows I will in for some adventures that may be worth writing about. However, I don’t know if I will have the time or energy to blog, in addition to all the writing I will need to do for grad school, and, so, I make no promises.
 I find this especially hard, for some reason, when ordering food. I think a lot of this stems from the fact that I rarely ate out prior to living in Indonesia, because it is so much costlier to eat out in America. I learned how to skim a menu and ask questions of a waiter in Indonesian, not English, and now I have to re-learn these skills in what I assumed would be a familiar context.