No discussion about returning from a prolonged period abroad is
complete without thorough time devoted to reverse culture shock. And
within the larger folds of a discussion about reentry, the conversation
inevitably turns to perspective. Specifically, that people don’t seem to
have any. Of course this isn’t a fair statement, but coming off of
long-term travel to the developing world often leaves you in a
fastidious state of mind. However, there is something to be said about
travel also crystallizing your perceptions, honing suspiciously naïve
sentiments into firm sets of belief. Even within the context of culture
shock, it can help keep life in perspective. And if you concentrate
enough, it can help mold you into the person you strive to be.
During my time in Burma, I spent a week in a tiny town called Hpa-An.
Staying put for so long wasn’t in my plans, but something happened my
first night in town that changed the connection I felt to the tiny
village in Burma’s Mon State. That something was this:
I was exhausted when I arrived, coming off of a fairly ridiculous
gauntlet of nightbus to daybus to tuk-tuk. I checked into one of two
places in town licensed to house foreigners and joked with the other
tourists that I was going to sleep at 7 and if they didn’t see me in the
morning, it merely meant that I was planning to sleep thorough another
day. I went to sleep at dusk and woke up to faint screams and panicked
scurrying in the attic, the Rakhine boys who worked at the hotel trying
to stuff their belongings into a bag. Disoriented, my mind in still
cobwebbed from sleep, it didn’t register that the air was thick with
smoke. I tumbled out of bed and ran down the three flights of stairs to
the street. Several buildings were on fire, and given that much of the
town was made of wood and that it had no fire station, people assumed
the worst. Next door to the hotel was a doctor’s clinic and women
ferried in and out carrying supplies to waiting trucks. Grabbing the
most expensive ones they could find (a microscope, medication,
laboratory equipment), hoping to save what they could. One woman stopped
to catch her breath. "This is all,” she blurted out, roughly gesturing
to the chaos behind her. The hotel owner explained: no insurance, no
savings. If her clinic went down, so did everything she had. |
